by C.M. Kars
“I would really like you to eat something, and we can go back to bed, try to watch that game before we were watching last night before we were otherwise distracted.”
TWELVE
Mid-May…
Tonight I get to watch the finale of the fourth season of Leviathan, and I am a complete and utter nervous wreck. Characters have died during the length of the season that I didn’t see coming (and Ayden never spoiled it for me), have been horrifically injured, and the different factions within the ship are finally not only making themselves known, but staking claims. I’m terrified for the precious cinnamon roll that is Chrisander and his best friend, Mage, and whatever will happen to them now that all the shit’s about to go down in tonight’s episode.
I’ve avoided the Internet and social media for spoilers or would-be theories that would make a lot of sense to steer the show in a certain direction, but I don’t wanna know. I’ve lived in a bubble of my own making until I could watch the finale in peace and had recorded it so I could skip the useless commercials and binge it in the forty-three odd minutes it was originally supposed to be seen in.
Bonus points, Ayden’s coming over to watch it with me, which adds a whole other level of nerves to this whole deal. I mean, Ayden knows what happens at the end of this season, God, he knows everything, maybe even has gotten some hints on the direction of where the fourth season is headed from the writers. And he’s going to be sitting next to me, distracting me with his beautiful face and body, and wonderful laugh, and perfect smile, and the cutest serious face I’ve ever seen. I don’t know how I’m going to give Chrisander and all of my babies on the Leviathan all of my attention when Ayden’s going to be here any minute.
I’ve got the popcorn ready, all buttered and glossy, waiting in its bowl in the middle of the couch. Blankets are at the ready, too, along with soda and bottles of water. I’ve been half-tempted a dozen times to turn on the TV and pull up the recording, just to get a few seconds in, but I’m afraid something will spoil me if there’s any indication the show’s going in the direction I think it will go in.
Mainly, I think one of the three main characters is going to die.
And this isn’t Supernatural where main characters can come back every single season, practically. This is a show of science, and science hasn’t decided what to do with dead bodies yet once they’ve reached that point; all in all, no one’s coming back after that final destination.
God, if they kill off Chrisander Gage I’m going to cry my eyes out while rioting.
They can’t. They wouldn’t.
Would they?
I buzz Ayden into the building when my phone goes off, and then unlock and open my door so he can waltz right in as I continue pacing in front of the TV screen, eating up the meager steps it takes to get to either side of my living room. One, two, three, four; one, two, three, four.
“Aria?” Ayden calls from the mouth of the doorway, poking his head inside and giving me a grin when we make eye contact. Now my heart’s beating like crazy for a whole different reason and I’m not sure if it’s any better. I need to concentrate, I need to pay attention to the episode that’s about to start—I can’t afford to be distracted. There’s a special circle in hell reserved for those who talk during important, charged moments in an episode. If Ayden is one of them, so help me. Not that he isn’t already distracting enough.
“Hi,” I say as he comes over to stand in front of me after locking the door and securing the security chain. He smells like outside, crisp air with a bite of cold in it even though it’s May, but it’s May in Canada.
He shrugs off his light jacket and places it gently on one of my chairs that currently holds three different coats of mine, as I never know which one to pull on in the morning and inevitably have to take it off once the day gets scorching hot. Done with the jackets, Ayden walks over to me and puts his arms around me, his long-sleeved shirt baggy, his eyes no longer having that sunken look.
Hiatus is doing good things for him.
While I’m over here, a complete stress ball of nerves that no amount of squeezing is going to fix. I’m pretty sure I have a manic smile plastered on my face, but I can’t help it.
“I see you’re all prepared,” he says, mouth quirking in a half-smile. I read too much into that smile, I admit. Is he hiding something? God, what does he know? And do I want to know before I watch the season finale?
“Uh-huh. I’ve got popcorn and the works. I’ve got the pizza coming in the next five minutes or so and then we can watch.” A shiver of anticipation runs up and down my spine and I wiggle in Ayden’s arms, which makes him grin even wider. “What? I’m excited and nervous, and I feel like my heart is going to beat right out of my chest. I swear, if you die, I’m going to be bawling my eyes out.”
Again with that infuriating smile that tells me absolutely nothing.
“Anyone ever tell you that you have a great poker face? Because you do. I have no idea what you’re thinking right now and it’s making me mental.”
Ayden leans down to kiss the tip of my nose. “I didn’t get my hello kiss, Aria.” I sigh like this is a chore when it’s the furthest thing from it. God, I love kissing Ayden, the way he sips at my lips in such a lulling way, making my heartbeat skyrocket, my blood pound in my veins. And his taste, Jesus, he tastes delicious all the time, and I know I could spend hours and hours and hours just kissing him. He groans deep in his chest and pulls me closer to him, pressing his hips to mine, straining against his jeans when all I’ve done is kiss him to the moon and back.
“Aria, what are you doing to me?” he groans against my mouth, licking my lips, nipping me, then licking into my mouth where we kiss even harder than before. Suddenly I don’t want to watch the finale at all, but take our clothes off right here, right now and be with each other. What good is watching Chrisander Gage when I have the real thing, flesh and a whole lot of bone in front of me, kissing me like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do?
“Mmm. What am I doing to you? Tell me,” I whisper, our lips sharing the words. Those butterflies explode in my belly, and I’m having a hard time breathing, but oxygen doesn’t seem important right now. I crush myself against him, my boobs flattened against his chest, my ankles straining from being on tiptoe for so long. I wind my arms around the back of his neck, making sure we’re not separated, not even a little bit.
“You make my heart want to burst. I’m completely mad about you, everything you do, everything you are,” he says between kisses, and the words taste like heaven.
Minutes pass and we finally have to separate when my phone buzzes across my kitchen counter, and that means pizza. I lean back, catching my breath so I can nab my phone and buzz the delivery guy into the building. My lips are tingling and kiss-swollen, and judging by the smug smile on Ayden’s face, he likes me looking this way. I attempt to pay the delivery guy until Ayden swoops in like some Golden Age superhero with his credit card out. It’s funny when the delivery kid does a great fish out of water impression, then takes Ayden’s credit card with shaky hands, taps it against the thingie while the kid is pushing the amount in while gaping at my boyfriend.
“Are you Chrisander Gage? I mean, do you play him? Do you play him in the show?” the kid asks, looking to be in high school. Ah, I remember those days. The kid messes up the price and Ayden gently tells him the amounts don’t match, and the kid goes bright red, so much so, I wonder how there’s any blood left in his brain since it looks like it’s all in his cheeks.
Ayden asks him questions, never rushing him, in fact, even when the pizza’s safe on my kitchen counter; he makes sure to have a polite conversation with a fan and even takes a picture, although asking the kid to not geo-tag it or anything because he doesn’t want to mess up my privacy. With the seriousness of a solemn oath, the kid agrees and leaves, a giant smile on his face.
Fanboy meet fangirl. Sorry that only one of us gets to keep him.
Ayden makes sure to lock my door and then moves to my kitchen,
opening cupboards, getting the plates, cutlery and serviettes all ready because I was distracted before and didn’t get to it. I grab the roll of napkins and we make our way to my super-comfy couch and settle ourselves, a couple of slices of pizza on each plate before I take a deep breath, pull up the recording of Leviathan’s season four finale, and pray for the very best and prepare myself for the worst.
I cried during the show, and after the show, naturally, as a fangirl will do when something awful happens to the character she obsesses over and has given her heart to. Ayden’s chuckling to himself while he holds me close and I practically sob into the skin between his neck and shoulder, letting him squeeze me close until the crying eventually stops.
“That’s awful,” I sniff, more tears falling down my face.
“Darling, I hate seeing you so upset over what happens to a character.”
“It’s your fault,” I accuse. “If you weren’t so compelling and interesting to watch I wouldn’t be bawling my eyes out right now. Where are the writers? I’m going to find them and make them write you a happier ending.” God, I’m so upset, and I wipe angrily at my cheeks. My lower lip juts out like I used to do when I was a little kid, and another round of tears hits me, so Ayden has to soothe me back into a calmer state.
“You feel so much, my darling. There’s still hope for him,” Ayden soothes, running his hands against my back, trying to get me back to normal.
I shake my head against his shoulder, completely ruining his shirt with mascara that claimed to be waterproof. Yeah, right. I bet I look like a raccoon right now. “How can there be hope? He’s stranded on a planet, by himself, no friends, no one to help him, and with that last scene, who knows if he’s going to survive!”
“Aria, I don’t want you to be upset.”
“Well, I am! Everything sucks! The whole night’s ruined because of that finale. I want chocolate to soothe away the pain. Jesus Christ,” I huff, trying to take deep breaths ’cause now I’m really getting riled up. I place a hand against his cheek, run my fingers along his jaw, still marveling at the fact that I get to do this with my fangirl crush and now real-life crush. Who knew this would happen to me? Who freaking knew? “You still have a job, right? Do you no longer want to be on Leviathan? Is that why the writers gave you a way out?”
Ayden’s eyebrows jump high on his forehead. “Aria, no, that’s not it at all. I want to stay on the show, I just wanted a bit more of a challenge. The writers came to me with this idea and I was pleased with it, that’s all. I’m not dead, I promise.” He winces at the words and nuzzles into my hand.
I breathe out a long sigh, getting off his lap and going to the kitchen to blow my nose, wipe my face, make myself look like I didn’t have an emotional breakdown over a season finale. Once that’s done, I go to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face, rubbing away the remnant mascara streaks and trying to calm myself down. I could be embarrassed by my display of emotion for a fictional character, but that just means I got attached and I don’t think that’s anything to be ashamed of. Definitely not when that character is played by the one and only Ayden Stone.
“Are you all right?” he asks when I come out to the living room, staring at the TV screen like it holds a bunch of secret spoilers for the fourth season.
“I’m debating if I want you to spoil me or not for next season.” I fist my hands on my hips, still emotionally reeling now that the episode’s over. I feel like a deflated balloon, aimless and completely lost. What do I do now for the months until the season four premiere? What do I do? How do I go on?
“Aria,” he groans, throwing his head back on the back edge of the couch, closing his eyes. “I can’t. You know that. I would, but I can’t.”
“That’s like telling me not to push the big, red button. You know I want to push that big, red button ten times more now, right?” I huff out a breath, mad at myself, kick at the floor with my sock feet. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine. I just have to wait for four months before I can see what happens to my poor little baby, and I don’t know how I’m going to get through it. I need some sort of distraction. Get my mind off how long I have to wait to find out what’s going to happen.” I stare at him, tilt my head to the side, sniff a little more, and try to shake it off.
“A distraction, eh?” Well, I guess I walked right into that one. Jesus.
I shake off the funk of having my heart broken by the hardest episode to watch yet in Leviathan’s history, roll my eyes, but laugh in spite of myself. “Ayden, stop. Can’t you see how upset I am?” The words don’t come out serious enough, but Ayden’s face goes somber.
He tilts his head at me, opening his arms in invitation, and I take my place in his lap, curling myself so I fit underneath his chin and his arms band around me with warmth. “Your heart is such a strong thing, to give pieces of it away like that.” His words rumble in his chest right underneath my ear.
I shiver against him and he ends up holding me closer to his body. Goal spotted and accomplished. “Yeah, yeah, don’t make fun of me.”
“How could I make fun of you for loving me even before you knew me?”
“That’s called being weird, Ayden. I know it already, I just couldn’t help it. You really are a fantastic actor. I usually hate the main character, like they’re owed the lead role because they’re so good-looking or whatever.”
“So I’m good-looking?”
I snort. “Obviously. But that’s just surface stuff, there’s something in your eyes, Ayden Stone, that makes my heart think it’s running a marathon.”
He places a kiss on the top of my head and I practically melt into his warm body. “I’m glad you were disappointed that day, Aria, at the convention in California. I’m glad I went after you; I’m glad I kept seeing you, even though I was afraid.”
“Afraid? Of me? Now who’s joking around?” I should move to make eye contact, but I’m just too comfortable. Again, all his fault.
“I was, I promise you I was. You cared too much about my character that I found myself becoming jealous, needing you to feel that way for me.”
“I do now.”
“Too right you do, and I love you. Although, I wonder if anything would change if I stopped playing Chrisander.”
“I knew it! He dies, doesn’t he? He’s dead!” I lift myself half-off and stare at him, fisting his shirt in my hands. “Oh man, he deserved so much more! He deserved to be happy! Why are you smiling at me like that? Can’t you see this is a cause for the end of the world to commence?” I palm his shoulders, squeezing against his muscles. “Ayden, you have to tell me, I can take it.” I suck in a breath. “You would tell me, no, if you decided to quit the show? I know it’s not Oscar-worthy or anything, but you have fans, and a lot of people really love your character and the plotlines. I know I do.” I don’t know who I’m trying to convince here, me or him.
Ayden grins at me, pecking my lips. When he isn’t satisfied with that, he gives me a proper kiss that has me moving to straddle his lap, arms behind his head, fingers in his hair.
Then I think of something and pull away, watching his eyes open, glazed over with a haze I put there. Focus. “I love you no matter what you do. You know that, right? As easy as it is to fall in love with fictional characters, it’s always been harder for me to give my heart to someone real. And you’re as real as they come. I don’t want anybody else, okay? I want you, and only you.”
“It was nice to hear the words. I didn’t know I needed to hear them.”
I nod, kissing him gently while his fingers bite into the skin of my hips. My hands roam over his chest, and I make a disappointed sound in my throat because I can’t touch his skin. I push my hands underneath his shirt, laugh at his gasp at my cold fingers and help him get his shirt off. “I can’t believe you’re mine, Ayden. Honestly. How are you even real?”
He palms my face, making me meet his eyes when all I want to do is visually devour his chest and abs. They are amazing chest and abs that have been shared with one poin
t three million viewers according to the stats from the penultimate season episode. But he’s here, and I get to touch him all I want, and that’s something that no fictional character can give me.
Chrisander Gage is out of reach but Ayden Stone, my boyfriend, sure as hell isn’t.
“You’re mine, too, Aria. As real as can be, an impossibility I wasn’t expecting. You’re the most wonderful person I have ever met.”
I want to tell him there’s no way that he has an adequate sample size to make that sort of statement, but Ayden’s kissing me again, scattering my thoughts and all logical thinking processes until I’m nothing more than hot blood running through my veins, pulsing between my legs.
It doesn’t take long for Ayden to take me into my bedroom, to knock down my life-size cardboard cut-outs of his character, and to take me on a very different trip among the stars.
THIRTEEN
July…
I squint up at the San Diego sun, fanning myself with my hand underneath the heat waves beaming down on me from a star far, far away. I’m sweating my makeup off, and I can feel my SPF 60 sunscreen dying a slow death on my exposed shoulders that have been rubbed raw from the straps of my backpack. The line to get into the hall for Leviathan’s panel snakes around the convention center and has my belly fluttering.
These people. These are my people. We get it.
I spy a whole gaggle of fangirls wearing all kinds of merch, some in cosplay, some not, all of them with huge smiles on their faces. I find myself smiling along with them, even though they’re in line and I’m waiting with a bodyguard in a suit on Ayden’s orders. But I was there, in that line by myself, not too long ago, and now everything’s changed, everything’s different.
Today, I don’t walk into the panel as only a fangirl, but as Ayden’s girlfriend.
So much has changed, and so much has totally stayed the same.
