The Interview • Chris Evans

The Birthday

The sun hadn't yet risen, but you were up, doing your best to move as quietly as possible.

Dodger's head lifted from where he was curled up at the end of the bed, and you picked him up before he could jump and wake Chris. His tail was thumping aggressively as you carried him out of the room. You tiptoed, making it out of the bedroom without waking him.

Dodger's nails were bound to be noisy on the stairs, so you closed the bedroom door behind you, carrying him all the way down to the mail floor, finally breathing a sigh of relief that you hadn't gotten caught. You put Dodger down, and he followed you around as you moved around, getting everything ready.

Over the past five months since you and Chris had started dating, he was always making grand gestures and surprising you and being romantic in ways you appreciated more than you could say.

Today though, today was going to be all about him. Your phone vibrated in your pyjama pants pocket and you pulled it out, checking the bombardment of texts flooding the group chat. Scrolling through the updates, you chuckled to yourself at the unbridled chaos. No one was saying anything immediately relevant to you so you shoved your phone back in your pocket, beginning to set up.

It took well over an hour, especially with Dodger constantly underfoot, until you were done.

"Bubs, you're a friggen tripping hazard," you grumbled, even as you stopped to pet him.

He'd become your shadow lately, never wanting to leave your side. Not like you were complaining, you loved the little rascal. But it was still pretty dark, and you were going to end up with a busted ankle.

Dodger's ears perked up, hearing something you couldn't, and you checked your phone, realizing it was time.

"Bubs, stay," you ordered, and he diligently sat, tilting his head adorably as you opened the front door as quietly as you could.

Scott rolled up as you slid on your shoes and stepped outside, casting glances up at the front windows hoping Chris was still sound asleep.

"Hey," Scott whispered as he got out of the car, wrapping you in a tight hug.

"Thank you so much for doing this," you said, grinning as you peeked into the back seat.

"Chris is gonna flip," he said excitedly, and you couldn't agree more.

The sun was starting to rise, and you knew Chris would be up any minute, his penchant to wake up early speeding your timeline. "Ok, get out of here before he catches us. I'll see you later tonight."

You gently lifted Chris' gift out of the backseat, going back inside as Scott waved goodbye.

Dodger came trotting over, his tail thumping wildly again.

"Come on Dodge, let's go wake up your dad."

And as though he understood, he went barrelling up the stairs, you following after him after you'd safely secured his gift in the living room.

In the minute it took you to walk up the stairs, Dodger had managed to push open the bedroom door and jump on the bed, Chris' laugh deep with sleep as he got attacked with dog slobber.

Deciding to join in on the mayhem, you jumped into the bed, Dodger still licking Chris' face as he tried – and failed – to push him off.

You grinned as he pulled you into his chest, hiding from Dodger in your chest. "Happy birthday, baby."

"It's already my favourite birthday yet," he said, Dodger finally relenting as Chris nuzzled into the side of your neck.

"The day hasn't even started yet," you said, running your hands through his hair. "How can it already be your favourite?"