In your ten months of knowing him, Chris had always known how to cheer you up, irregardless of how big or small the issue was.
You would even go so far as to call him a master of distraction – because by the end of the day, you wouldn’t even have known you’d cried at all.
You could recall three times he had been there for you, and the two times you returned the favour.
The first time he had seen you cry – about three months into your living situation – he had been by your side immediately, pulling you flush against his body. He held you in his big arms for the longest time, and just waited the sobs out.
He wasn’t the type of person to press, and he knew you’d tell him what was wrong if you wanted.
Instead, he asked you what you wanted.
You were lightheaded and cry‐drunk, so it took a moment to come back to yourself. “Huh?”
“Do you want to be quiet or loud?”
“I just…” You struggled to find words that didn’t make you sound needy, but you found none. “I don’t want to be alone.”
“That’s out of the question,” he smiled knowingly. “So, what will it be, {your last name}? Quiet or loud?”
He had a twinkle in his eye, one that suggested his question delved deeper than the words implied.
“Quiet.”
And then he was pulling you up off the couch and out the door in total disregard of your chosen attire.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
“Chris, I’m literally in my pyjamas–”
But he was already opening the garage, the creaks of the gears overshadowing your weak protests.
“You’re wearing pants this time,” he winked at you. “So we have that going for us.”
And then you were in the car, location still a mystery.
Any attempts to get a modicum information was shut down with a simple “it’s a surprise.”
“Why can’t you tell me?”
“Because then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”
And you were glad he hadn’t told you, because soon, you were pulling up outside a place you hadn’t been to since you were a kid and going on school trips. You’d never been to any L.A. ones, having moved there only half a year ago. But the way your whole body immediately was overcome with such calm…
It was like you had been hoping to come here since you’d woken up that morning, and had received the news of your grandfather’s admittance to the hospital earlier that night.
But there was no way for Chris to have known that your grandfather had taken you to the aquarium when you were young, telling you about all the fish, helping you make up increasingly bizarre backstories for them.
YOU ARE READING
ocean eyes || c.evans
Fanfiction"He looked at her the way an immortal would describe Galileo's first look to the Milky Way. And if you hadn't been so entranced by the splendor of it all, that look that Robert wore would seem familiar. Because right beside you, Chris was looking at...
