An unhealthy coping mechanism, that was what it was.
You could acknowledge that, but when you knocked back another shot – unsure of whether it was tequila or vodka anymore – and became a little bit more numb, you knew it was a necessary evil.
It was your newfound secret to loosening up and being more at ease around them, in spite of that little stab of pain in your chest every now and then when you’d spot the tiny – to innocent bystanders – yet utterly monumental – to you – signs of affection between the happy couple. The loving smiles that crinkled the corners of his eyes, the hand holding, the protective cuddle of his arm around her…
You had other people to speak to, and to hold your attention, and it didn’t hurt as much. But that night…
You had been known to sing around the house sometimes, and were a little adept at the ukelele. Chris had heard you playing late at night when he’d get home from set, singing softly to Dodger. It always made him smile a little to himself, not that you’d noticed. But you knew he knew about your little hobby, seeing as on more than one occasion he’d seen you playing on the couch and – sometimes – he’d even join you and just listen, Dodger’s head on his lap. You hadn’t minded then, but you certainly minded now when he brought it up.
“Can we get some music going?” Sebastian groaned, rifling through the cooler box you had all managed to drag outside to the fire pit.
Chris gave you a mischievous smile, and you already knew what was about to be said.
“No. No. Christopher Robert Evans–”
“I know a little someone who–”
“–I swear to God I will–”
“–can play the uke!”
“–castrate you!”
Both of you had been a jumble of trying to talk over one another, you threatening his very possibility for future children and him outing your hidden talent. Or lack thereof. There was a reason you didn’t really play for large audiences.
But they hadn’t heard you, they had heard only him, and soon enough, everyone was asking – no, begging – for one song, just one song.
Maybe the alcohol had made you compliant enough to say yes, or maybe you knew they’d never let it go – whatever the reason was, you retrieved the ukelele from your room and sat down in front of the firepit once more, completing the seated circle around the soft ember glow. You had brought it with you, because what’s a beach house vibe without some uke?
A song to sing… You battled your mind, trying to find one, just a single song to sate the people. Your fingers absentmindedly moved along the chords as you thought and…
One look at Chris, a soft, encouraging smile on his lips, and suddenly the perfect song came to mind. Looking down and away, you cleared your throat, and began to strum.
And then, in the gathered hush of the backyard, fire crackling and ocean waves crashing in the distance, you began to sing:
I’ve been watching you
For some time
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...
