old soul | matthew gray gubler

17. stairway to heaven

Charlotte felt her purse thump against her hip with each stride she took, ponytail swinging in a similar fashion at the top of her head. Her hands were deep in the pockets of her jacket and she glanced down at Matthew's, moving freely through the air beside him. She was resisting the urge to entwine their fingers considering they were in the middle of Los Angeles. Too many people would talk.

And they still didn't know what they were.

Not that it mattered. Things were going swimmingly, a pattern to their daily lives that morphed into one another. Each free day was spent doing something, anything, together. If they were busy, one or the other, they'd call. And, even then, they'd make some excuse to stop at the other's house in the evening ("you left your jacket...I found this movie....").

In a few weeks, Charlotte would be busy with press, interviews, press, and endless amounts of makeup. The second season of her television show would be released soon, June 3rd, to be precise.

She didn't like to think that she wouldn't be able to stay at Matthew's beckon call. Instead, she'd be across the city, staying with Aisha and Cecelia until the press was over. It had become a promised tradition after they did it for the first time last year, after Charlotte had shown up late for their first interview due to traffic.

And, Matthew started filming again in the middle of May, which was but a month away. He would be preoccupied with that, 12-hour work days, free time spent resting and all.

Needless to say, they were soaking up the time together until they had to spend a month or two apart.

Matthew turned down a block, leading Charlotte as she hurried to match his step again. "You're so quick."

He turned his head back to her, teeth flashing, "You're just short."

"I'm actually quite average. You're, like, freakishly large," she quipped.

He shook his head causing the wild mass of hair upon his head to fall into his eyes. He pushed it back, "Yeah, right."

"No, you are. Have you seen your feet? I think they're bigger than my face."

Matthew slowed, chest drawing back in offense. "Wow, attack Matthew, much? How would you feel if I made fun of your elfish feet?"

Charlotte's nose scrunched up, drawing her brows to the middle of her forehead. Matthew laughed and tossed an arm over her shoulder which tugged her close to his side. Charlotte sunk into his embrace before she looked around her. A handful of people were beginning to recognize either one of them. They were gawking, pointing, with cameras drawn.

Matthew noticed Charlotte tense up, pull away slightly. He saw an alley up ahead and settled his hand around her wrist. He guided them through the piling crowd, who were now trying to follow them. He sped up, looking back to make sure she was following. Her feet were moving twice as fast as his, but she was getting there.

He took them around another corner in the alleyway, back out there that, and then up a set of steps. They had no idea where it led, but at the top was a stretched out balcony, encased by rusted fencing. He continued walking when he saw other steps and started down them.

Charlotte pulled him to a stop on the step below her. "I'm sorry, Matt."

He turned to her, furrowing his face with confusion. His hand was still on her wrist, but he moved so it was cupping hers. "For what?"

"It's not that I don't want people to see us together..."

He shook his head, "No, I know. That's not why I pulled us away. It's just people..."

"People talk," she smiled weakly, "those girls would blast my name across the internet. Death threats...."

"Stalkers," Matt grinned, flicking his eyes and shrugging casually. "Ya know, your daily dose of fame."

Charlotte laughed, squeezing his hand, "I knew you'd understand. The air just felt, like, tense for a sec."

Matthew found her hip, tugging her slightly. She leaned against his shoulder with her palm, smiling down to him. Their foreheads bumped before staying together, eyes boring into the near gaze of the other.

Charlotte pressed her lips to his own, so eager that she pushed him backwards. He caught himself by planting his foot on the step beneath him. Charlotte giggled, an apology hanging on her tongue. He simply marched up the steps between them, cornering her to the railing. He kissed her deeply and embraced her waist. Charlotte wrapped her arms around his shoulders and arched her back to meet his chest with her own.

For a brief moment, Charlotte felt like she was in a romantic movie, falling deeply for the man before her so deeply, it couldn't be real. But, then his hand brushed the hair away from her cheek, his thumb stroking the skin once it was bare. She was drawn back into reality, and she realized this was real.

Charlotte was elated. She felt like she was floating on the air the whole way back to her house. Her mood rose even furthered when, instead of saying goodbye at her front door, Matthew pushed himself inside.

The night was still young.