The Aquarium had been a great day out, even with the minor bump that had been the threat of Heather having a panic attack. After a lazy lunch, Leo had invited Ryan back to his place - well, his parents' place - and without needing to discuss it, somehow Heather and Christian had ended up at the Garabedian house. In fact, they'd ended up in the boat house on the river behind her parents' house, at her insistence. They'd got to the point in the summer when Dr and Mrs could be back any day, and the last thing Heather wanted was for her parents to meet Christian Moretz when he was naked and otherwise occupied. She sat on the edge of the decking in the sunshine, one foot trailing in and out of the water, back in her bikini and daring Christian to comment.
The sun was going down, leaving behind a rich mixture of reds, purples, oranges and greens in it's wake. The shadows from the surrounding forest were long and creeping across the deck, threatening to swallow Heather whole. But, it was Georgia and the heat of the day was just barely beginning to wan. Christian stood on the decking, watching as his girl sat quietly. He didn't want to disturb her peace, so he simply kicked off his shoes and sat down beside her. His feet were placed into the cool water of the river. He said nothing, made no movement to touch her or lean into her. That would be an invasion and Christian knew better than to invade Heather's personal space, uninvited.
Leaning back on her hands, she sighed softly, her face turning toward him as he sat beside her. She could still feel that argument that hadn't yet happened lingering in the air, but wasn't inclined to get it started yet. Lifting a hand, she drew the backs of her fingers along his arm. "Got nothin' to say about my suit there, Mr Moretz?"
Invited in, as it were, he grinned crookedly. "That's a mighty fine suit, Miss Garabedian," his voice was pleasant and calm. "Shows off your God given and blessed assets." He knew she was still a little sore about his initial reaction to the suit. But, now that they were in a somewhat private place, where there were going to be no men ogling and coveting what was Christian's, his reaction was a lot milder.
She smirked faintly, knowing full well that the problem wasn't there right now. "You do know you're just gonna have to get used to me wearing a bikini when I swim or when I'm on the beach, right?" she pointed out just as mildly. "I won't always wear a wetsuit to cover up, and I refuse to stay completely covered all the time. What's wrong with other guys getting to look? You're the only one gets to touch."
"Because men are jerks," he shrugged. "They always want what they can't have. So they look, and then they want." He turned his gaze back onto her as he leaned back and shifted slightly. "And when they want something bad enough, they try to take. You're my girl, Heather. I don't want those jerks to even look at you. You're mine."
"You can't stop everyone in the world from looking at me," she told him firmly. "You're just gonna have to suck it up, because I'm not going to give up sunbathing and swimming just to satisfy your male ego."
"It has nothing to do with my ego," his tone changing as rapidly as his mood. The words were clipped with a razor's precision. "It has everything to do with your safety. I can't be there all of the time to keep the grabby hands off of you. You must realize this."
Heather's jaw clenched as his tone changed, recognizing all the signs of him trying to lay down the law to her once again without even considering how that made her feel. "I'm not your property," she told him in a tight voice. "I'm not a thing. Stop treating me like one."
Christian's neck arched and he pulled his head back. He blinked rapidly at her accusation, completely bemused by it. "When have I ever done that to you?" Everything he'd ever done, in his eyes, was for her pleasure and protection.
"You're telling me what to do, how to be," she pointed out, trying not to lose her temper with his adolescent innocence of what he'd done. "You don't trust me to know what's appropriate and what isn't, and you don't seem to realise that I've spent twenty-plus years without you there to look after me. I've never been raped, or even approached in a way that wasn't acceptable, and yet all of a sudden, you seem to think that I need to be wrapped up in a blanket and hidden away, just in case these rapey psychopaths lurch out of the undergrowth."
Christian lifted a finger to interrupt, but didn't. He waited for her to finish before he spoke quietly. "That was before me, Heather. You saw what that guy in front of the Varsity did. If we're not careful, it'll be so much worse next time." His lack of faith in mankind in general was a definite buzz kill. "You just came into my life. I don't want you to be harmed, just because you're with me."
She sighed, rolling her eyes. "That guy in front of the Varsity was a freelance journalist, and an asshole," she reminded him. "The paps are always pushing it, and I would have handled it, if you and Ryan hadn't come rushing to the rescue. I've been handling the press since I was a kid, Chris. You need to trust that I know what I'm doing."
"Is that what this is about?" Christian leaned back once again and frowned. "You think that I don't trust you?" He didn't know what to make of this current revelation, and he turned his head to look anywhere but at her. "I.. I don't know what to say about that. I discuss everything with you. Explained everything to you. What've I done to make you feel that you can't trust me?"
Heather sighed again, dropping her arms to lie back against the warm decking, her hands coming to rest against her stomach as she gazed up at the sky. "I do trust you," she told him, confident of her feeling toward him. "But you act like you don't trust me. Baby, I'm falling in love with you, but every now and then, you come out with something that makes me feel like I'm nothing but a trophy on your arm. And I know that's not how you feel, but that's how it's making me feel. A relationship is a two-way street, Chris. It's supposed to be you and me against the world, not you putting me in a box and holding off the rest of the world with a sharp stick."
"Oh," he lowered his gaze to the water and sighed softly. "I can't help what I feel, Heather," he whispered after a lengthy silence. "I'm proud that you're my girl and if I show you off, I can't help it. I can't believe that a girl like you could even fathom a screw up like me. So I want to protect you, from everything bad in the world." He paused again, that frown remaining between his brows, as he tries to articulate his thoughts. "I just don't know what I'd do if I lost you."
"I know you can't help it," she assured him, wondering just when she'd learned this much insight into how this particular man's mind worked. "What you can help is how you react to it. It's not a bad thing, to want to protect me from all the bad. But, uh, you can't lock me away and show me off at the same time. You have to trust me that I won't let anyone take advantage, and you have to trust the world a bit, too. People really aren't as bad as you seem to think. A few rotten apples don't spoil the whole barrel."
"I do trust you, Heather. We've discussed that much before." Running a hand through his hair, he sighed heavily once again. "I'm sorry that I can't have such an optimistic view of the world as you. There's too much that goes on that makes even me pale." Christian felt as if he were rambling on and losing focus. Closing his eyes, he took a long, deep breath, then blew it out slowly. 5... 4... 3... 2... When his eyes opened he turned his gaze upon her. And with all of the sincerity he could muster, he spoke quietly. "For you, I'll try, though."
Her hand rose, teasing into his hair as he gazed into her eyes. "Just try and rationalize it," she suggested softly. "Yeah, a lot of bad happens. But am I ever gonna be in the same circle as a lot of that bad? I won't ever visit a war zone, or go trekking in a country known to be inhabited by pirates. I'm not involved in corporate wrangling or with the mob, so no one's gonna want to get rid of me. Between you and my dad, I'm gonna be watched by security night and day. There's a whole lot of bad out there that's never gonna even see me."
Christian leaned his head into her hand and smiled. "I know, baby." Only takes one bad apple, babe. He turned his head to kiss her palm before leaning away. "So, this European thing. I get no say so in that, either?"
She rolled her eyes, smiling faintly. "It's a huge opportunity," she told him. "Phil only sends two students out of the whole intake, and he wants to send me. It's working with the photography department of Vogue magazine, Paris, and it's so much experience. I mean, I don't know if I want to do photo journalism, but c'mon, a month in Paris?" She grinned her infectious grin. "You seriously want me to say no to that?"
The sun was going down, leaving behind a rich mixture of reds, purples, oranges and greens in it's wake. The shadows from the surrounding forest were long and creeping across the deck, threatening to swallow Heather whole. But, it was Georgia and the heat of the day was just barely beginning to wan. Christian stood on the decking, watching as his girl sat quietly. He didn't want to disturb her peace, so he simply kicked off his shoes and sat down beside her. His feet were placed into the cool water of the river. He said nothing, made no movement to touch her or lean into her. That would be an invasion and Christian knew better than to invade Heather's personal space, uninvited.
Leaning back on her hands, she sighed softly, her face turning toward him as he sat beside her. She could still feel that argument that hadn't yet happened lingering in the air, but wasn't inclined to get it started yet. Lifting a hand, she drew the backs of her fingers along his arm. "Got nothin' to say about my suit there, Mr Moretz?"
Invited in, as it were, he grinned crookedly. "That's a mighty fine suit, Miss Garabedian," his voice was pleasant and calm. "Shows off your God given and blessed assets." He knew she was still a little sore about his initial reaction to the suit. But, now that they were in a somewhat private place, where there were going to be no men ogling and coveting what was Christian's, his reaction was a lot milder.
She smirked faintly, knowing full well that the problem wasn't there right now. "You do know you're just gonna have to get used to me wearing a bikini when I swim or when I'm on the beach, right?" she pointed out just as mildly. "I won't always wear a wetsuit to cover up, and I refuse to stay completely covered all the time. What's wrong with other guys getting to look? You're the only one gets to touch."
"Because men are jerks," he shrugged. "They always want what they can't have. So they look, and then they want." He turned his gaze back onto her as he leaned back and shifted slightly. "And when they want something bad enough, they try to take. You're my girl, Heather. I don't want those jerks to even look at you. You're mine."
"You can't stop everyone in the world from looking at me," she told him firmly. "You're just gonna have to suck it up, because I'm not going to give up sunbathing and swimming just to satisfy your male ego."
"It has nothing to do with my ego," his tone changing as rapidly as his mood. The words were clipped with a razor's precision. "It has everything to do with your safety. I can't be there all of the time to keep the grabby hands off of you. You must realize this."
Heather's jaw clenched as his tone changed, recognizing all the signs of him trying to lay down the law to her once again without even considering how that made her feel. "I'm not your property," she told him in a tight voice. "I'm not a thing. Stop treating me like one."
Christian's neck arched and he pulled his head back. He blinked rapidly at her accusation, completely bemused by it. "When have I ever done that to you?" Everything he'd ever done, in his eyes, was for her pleasure and protection.
"You're telling me what to do, how to be," she pointed out, trying not to lose her temper with his adolescent innocence of what he'd done. "You don't trust me to know what's appropriate and what isn't, and you don't seem to realise that I've spent twenty-plus years without you there to look after me. I've never been raped, or even approached in a way that wasn't acceptable, and yet all of a sudden, you seem to think that I need to be wrapped up in a blanket and hidden away, just in case these rapey psychopaths lurch out of the undergrowth."
Christian lifted a finger to interrupt, but didn't. He waited for her to finish before he spoke quietly. "That was before me, Heather. You saw what that guy in front of the Varsity did. If we're not careful, it'll be so much worse next time." His lack of faith in mankind in general was a definite buzz kill. "You just came into my life. I don't want you to be harmed, just because you're with me."
She sighed, rolling her eyes. "That guy in front of the Varsity was a freelance journalist, and an asshole," she reminded him. "The paps are always pushing it, and I would have handled it, if you and Ryan hadn't come rushing to the rescue. I've been handling the press since I was a kid, Chris. You need to trust that I know what I'm doing."
"Is that what this is about?" Christian leaned back once again and frowned. "You think that I don't trust you?" He didn't know what to make of this current revelation, and he turned his head to look anywhere but at her. "I.. I don't know what to say about that. I discuss everything with you. Explained everything to you. What've I done to make you feel that you can't trust me?"
Heather sighed again, dropping her arms to lie back against the warm decking, her hands coming to rest against her stomach as she gazed up at the sky. "I do trust you," she told him, confident of her feeling toward him. "But you act like you don't trust me. Baby, I'm falling in love with you, but every now and then, you come out with something that makes me feel like I'm nothing but a trophy on your arm. And I know that's not how you feel, but that's how it's making me feel. A relationship is a two-way street, Chris. It's supposed to be you and me against the world, not you putting me in a box and holding off the rest of the world with a sharp stick."
"Oh," he lowered his gaze to the water and sighed softly. "I can't help what I feel, Heather," he whispered after a lengthy silence. "I'm proud that you're my girl and if I show you off, I can't help it. I can't believe that a girl like you could even fathom a screw up like me. So I want to protect you, from everything bad in the world." He paused again, that frown remaining between his brows, as he tries to articulate his thoughts. "I just don't know what I'd do if I lost you."
"I know you can't help it," she assured him, wondering just when she'd learned this much insight into how this particular man's mind worked. "What you can help is how you react to it. It's not a bad thing, to want to protect me from all the bad. But, uh, you can't lock me away and show me off at the same time. You have to trust me that I won't let anyone take advantage, and you have to trust the world a bit, too. People really aren't as bad as you seem to think. A few rotten apples don't spoil the whole barrel."
"I do trust you, Heather. We've discussed that much before." Running a hand through his hair, he sighed heavily once again. "I'm sorry that I can't have such an optimistic view of the world as you. There's too much that goes on that makes even me pale." Christian felt as if he were rambling on and losing focus. Closing his eyes, he took a long, deep breath, then blew it out slowly. 5... 4... 3... 2... When his eyes opened he turned his gaze upon her. And with all of the sincerity he could muster, he spoke quietly. "For you, I'll try, though."
Her hand rose, teasing into his hair as he gazed into her eyes. "Just try and rationalize it," she suggested softly. "Yeah, a lot of bad happens. But am I ever gonna be in the same circle as a lot of that bad? I won't ever visit a war zone, or go trekking in a country known to be inhabited by pirates. I'm not involved in corporate wrangling or with the mob, so no one's gonna want to get rid of me. Between you and my dad, I'm gonna be watched by security night and day. There's a whole lot of bad out there that's never gonna even see me."
Christian leaned his head into her hand and smiled. "I know, baby." Only takes one bad apple, babe. He turned his head to kiss her palm before leaning away. "So, this European thing. I get no say so in that, either?"
She rolled her eyes, smiling faintly. "It's a huge opportunity," she told him. "Phil only sends two students out of the whole intake, and he wants to send me. It's working with the photography department of Vogue magazine, Paris, and it's so much experience. I mean, I don't know if I want to do photo journalism, but c'mon, a month in Paris?" She grinned her infectious grin. "You seriously want me to say no to that?"