Chris Evans: Short Stories and Imagines

another hour

summary: after that night and many nights later, chris realizes that you've been the best thing that's ever happened to him and he's not willing to loose you

warning: swearing, lil bit of angst, fluff, the whole works

a/n: this is part two to another day - read that piece first before delving into this one.

-:-

Chris sees you. You are happier. Forgetful of him and forgetful of your woes. He watches you as your delicate body paces the length of the classroom in your little white eyelet sundress. You are talking to a handful of school aged children, all seated and looking up at you in awe. You are full of life, foretelling the known story of Little Red Riding Hood and while standing in the middle of an empty parking lot, Chris is stuck being the big bad wolf, ultimately riddled with guilt and in no way of confronting you.

After that night, he knows you love him. He knows for certain that he loves you back, if not intensely more. Chris knows that he messed up and with every graced opportunity, he hasn't been able to make it right to you. Something within stops him, tells him that he isn't good enough for you and that you deserve better. All is true. But today, today he had to get to you before boarding a plane to Prague. The untimeliness of his endeavor comes abrupt.

But, it's like they say; you don't know what you have is good until it's gone.

And you certainly didn't have to leave.

Chris checks his phone again and notices all the missed calls he left you along with his assistant who hounds him of his whereabouts. He clicks his tongue knowing he had to be in two places at once.

"C'mon Y/N." He anxiously bounces on the balls of his feet, unable to wait a second longer to wrap his arms around your frame and take you away with him.

The school bell finally rings, flocks of children run out to the field and that's when you appear alongside your fellow colleagues. You are laughing, radiantly smiling in your own little world, unaware of the fact that Chris is around, struggling to call out to you, little does he even attempt to do so. He swallows the growing lump of nerves that is lodged in his throat, not wanting to disrupt your peace.

As you look to one of your colleagues, you notice a dark figure in the distance. Your eyes adjust when you realize it's the man you hadn't heard from for days.

After grabbing your attention, Chris smiles at you wobbly as your lips were slightly parted and dry, sorely taken aback. You turn to your cohorts and excuse yourself from a riveting conversation about the spring curriculum.

Your heart skips a beat with every step you take towards Chris who balances himself upright against the bonnet of his car.

"Hey." You fearfully start off your greeting. "You're... here?"

"Look I shouldn't have left that night." Chris cut to the chase, shaking his head while you purse your lips into a thin line. "I know I was drunk but I fucked up and I—"

"Okay, um, this isn't where we should be having this conversation, Chris." You contumely whisper in a hurry, closing your eyes and feeling a slight headache forming.

"I'm leaving for Prague in an hour, so it's now or never Y/N." Your eyes widen incredulously. For Chris, there is not a grain of intuited responsibility and that shocks you, has you wondering why a phone call wasn't enough like it has always conveniently been for him.

"God you just have the worst timing, don't you?"

"I don't care." Chris rebuts.

"Okay so, tell me what exactly do you care about, huh?" You take a small step towards him and folded your arms against you blooming chest, giving Chris a salaciously, vengeful distraction of your cleavage. Fuck. He mentally clocks out every expletive in the book while holding your goading gaze.

"Don't." Chris exhales.

"What?" You snap.

"Don't fucking do that Y/N."

"You think you can just show up whenever you feel like it and magically hope that everything between us will be okay?"

"I want to make it okay." Chris assures with every iota of sincerity that reaches the blazon pits of his cornflower coloured eyes.

"Too late, asshole." You have your palms raised up as you're ready to back away.

"No you don't get to be like that alright?" He gently grabs a hold of your arm right as you try to leave, pulling you into him as you stumble forward. You look at his hand and then up at him, wordlessly signalling him to let go which he does while trying to remain respectfully restrained.

The sounds of squealing children break a slaughter of silence that becomes suspenseful between you and him. You're disappointed but you have some concurring faith that forces you to stay and hear him out.

"Please Y/N." Chris lowers his voice for you and just you. "Let's start over, let's just be us again except we'll take it slow, no sex, just the whole getting to know one another."

"I don't know." You say reluctantly, feeling your insides concave while your mind spins with all the what ifs? Being with him could be disastrous. It could be beautiful. It could be a beautiful disaster. You wouldn't know and Chris wanted to indefinitely be unsure with you, at least be given that chance.

"I want you. I want there to be an us. I'll want it tomorrow and every day after. And if you don't, then that's fine too. But I'm here and I need you to know that I love you, Y/N. I knew I loved you the second we met 5 years ago and for that I've been selfish and cruel and careless with your heart to realize that I was undeserving of you, I still might be. But, it doesn't hurt to ask for a second chance now does it?"

You're speechless, immobilized to his divulgence. He was being truthful. He was hurting as much as you were and it didn't take much for you to give way because there's that exact look you can't piece together but know all too well. It's one of regret that could pan over throughout an unspeakable lifetime, it's an impression that you don't want to leave and so you adjudge his words.

"No it doesn't because this is the only chance I'll be giving you." You finally say while closing the gap and placing a gently hand on his chest. You meet his downward gaze, furrowing your brows concentratively at him and studying the proportions of his face. "Don't fuck this up, Evans."

"I don't plan on it." He swiftly pulls your body close to his, one large hand cups your cheek while the other rests above your clothed bum. He leans in and presses his lips against yours, kissing you with rigour and confirmative passion. You let him, melting into the kiss with your own slew of moans that tell him how much you've missed this, how much you've secretively wanted him back in your life to say the words that sound like pure honey to the soul.

"Come with me. Let's see Prague together." Chris breaths in between in each kiss. He's focused and you're distracted by his hands grazing and squeezing your behind as he keeps your body flush to his, afraid that you'd run away again.

"In the middle of a school year? You're crazy." You lean more into the kiss and he chortles.

"I'm only crazy about you, inamorata."