For you| Pedro Pascal

15. Sad eyes

"You're acting weird," Pedro said. I took a sip of my wine. "No I am not." He shrugs and continues to eat. I twirl my fork on my plate, shredding the lettuce in the process. "Andy. You're playing with your food. You said you were starving," he says. I look up and smile. "I am. I was, until I ate all of the bread. Now I'm a little full."

I finished off my wine and waved for another glass. "But not too full for wine? Come on Andy, you've been weird since yesterday. What is it?" I sigh and look up at his eye. Tell him Andy. Hiding it will make it worse. "Sam," I say. "Sam? What about him?" He asks, dropping his fork onto his plate. "Sam was in my trailer yesterday. When you went to that fitting. He managed his way onto the set. The only reason I was able to leave was because someone opened the door as I was leaning on it."

He looked a little upset but concerned at the same time. "Did he do something to you?" He asked. I shook my head. "I won't lie, it freaked me out a little. I thought he was going to. I knew no one was going to go check in on me at the time. Security got him out I'm assuming." He looked confused. "Assuming?" He questioned. I nod. "I didn't witness it. Cassie was the one who called," I explained. He looks down at his food, a little irritated. "Look I wasn't even going to tell you. I didn't want to bother you with it."

He grabbed the cloth napkin and wiped his mouth with his before lifting a glass of water to his face. "Andy. These are the things you should be telling me. I want to be there for you but I can't do that when you don't tell me things. You running to Cassie first, assuming you told her not to tell me seeing as I spoke with her various times after the fitting not mentioning a word of this, just shows that I'm not the person you want to talk to about this." I straighten myself up and shake my head in disagreement. "I... I didn't want to trouble you with it. It wasn't a big deal. And having to tell you about how crazy my ex boyfriend is isn't exactly as comfortable as you may think," he interrupts.

"This isn't about comfort. And if it was, I would at least like to think that it would be comfortable enough for you to confide in me, especially if he's a threat to your safety." I offer a soft smile and place my hand over his. "I am comfortable. I just didn't want to make this a thing. You don't need to be upset about this." He pulls his hand away. "Damn it Andy. You're not getting it. What if he had done something to you? Then what? I wouldn't have known what was going on. Whether you think it wasn't a big deal or not, I should've known instead of not knowing for a full day why you were acting so paranoid. I've been here Andy. I have been here with you for a while now, yet you still feel so far from me. I'm trying to understand you. I know you and I am absolutely in love with who you are and I don't expect perfection from you, yet you continue to shut out the fact that your family and Sam are making your life more difficult then it should be. You don't need to pretend that they aren't an issue. We all have imperfect things in our life. I just want you to share more of them with me so I know how to be there for you in the way you need me to."

I feel my cheeks get hot. "You're in love with me?" I backtrack. "Of course I am. I have never been so sure of my feelings for you. I love you Andy but I'm bothered with the fact that Cassie knew about this mess before I did." I felt the tension in my jaw worsening. "Look, I told her because she knew how to handle it without making a scene. I don't need everyone knowing about this. Plus, you need to cut me some slack. I was a little mortified about the whole thing. Besides to Cassie, I haven't said a word about this. I trust you. I want to share a lot with you, but Sam isn't worth sharing with you. You haven't judged me about it. You haven't dug in to get answers from me."

He sighs and leans back into his chair. "Andy, I don't push for answers. I only get the ones you're willing to tell me. And that is perfectly okay, but when there's a man in your trailer, being threatening with you, I deserve to know about it. If something were to happen to you, I wouldn't have known and I wouldn't have been able to do anything about it. This is only going to work if you are open. I'm okay with taking my time, but I won't be kept in the dark. Not when it comes to you and your safety." I nod my head and reach for his hand. "For the record, I love you too Pedro."

***

"We're doing it. First thing in the morning. That is where we need to start," Pedro says, getting the keys from the valet. "A restraining order sounds a little extreme." He shot me a serious look. "Fine. We'll do it in the morning," I say, sitting in the passenger side of the car. Pedro walks around and enters the car. "So why don't I get to drive?" I ask him. His puts the car into drive. "Because you drive like an absolute lunatic. You'd wrap us around a pole." I roll my eyes and cross my arms. "You'll get tired one day, and I will be the one to drive you home."

The car door opened and I felt someone shaking me. "You are the only one that I know that can pass out five minutes into the car ride home. Let's go inside."
He tugs my arm and hauls me inside, my legs slowly trudging towards the front door. "You have my keys." He rummages through my keychains on my keys, looking for the one belonging to the front door. "You have so many keychains for two keys Andy. If a serial killer was chasing you, how would you get in?" I roll my eyes. "Pedro, I would find my key the way I've been doing for years. I have a keychain for every place I have filmed in."

He pushed the door open, the both of us walking through it. "Where's New York?" I shook my head. "I don't have one actually. I've filmed here before but I don't actually have one from here." I grab the keys from his hands and toss them on the table. He stood in front of the kitchen counter, undoing the top buttons of his shirt. I stare down at his chest, down to his pants, and back up to meet his eyes. His elbows were rested on the edge of the countertop, staring at me with his deep brown eyes. "It's not polite to stare," he says, his face serious but soft. I kick my heels off to the side, slowly taking steps to him.

I wrap my thumbs around the loops of his pants and look up to him. "I'm only staring because you look good. You look so good right now," I say, propping myself up on my toes, my lips pressing to his. He pulled me in tight, lifting my off my feet completely and taking me to the couch. He sat down, my knees spread out across his thighs, my hands grasping the sides of his face. We only pulled away to take in small breaths. I finished unbuttoning his shirt, feeling his hands shimmy my dress up until he reached the point that I had to throw my arms up for him to finish.

He suddenly pulled away. "What's wrong?" I ask, still holding his face. "Do I make you happy?" He asks. "Of course you do. What kind of question is that?" I say. "You have sad eyes. You always have them. And it's hard to tell if they are naturally sad or if it's me." He sighs. "Pedro. You don't cause my "sad" eyes, unless that's your way of telling me I need to wear more concealer." I chuckle, but his expression doesn't change. "Hey, you make me very happy. If I even have them, I don't think it's because of you. Although I think they're naturally sad then."

I almost throw my body to the side, but he clings to my hips. "I love your eyes. I love you," he says, taking me in again. "I love you too," I say.