Chris Evans: Short Stories and Imagines

meet cute: brazilian coffee

summary: chris is in brazil where he's filming his next up and coming flick. He decides to go to a corner café to clear his thoughts when he comes across a beautiful Brazilian waitress who chances him her time of day.

warning: fluffy sweetness

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The weather's delightfully warm when Chris shows up to a nearby café. His head is tipped low as he zigzags past a small family gathered around the shopfront.

The locals of Salvador don't recognize him for him, but simply because of the fact that he's a tall, built, white man, sauntering the villas and trying to find his place in the cue.

After spending some time, being out and about and sightseeing in between shoots, Chris knows that he can't afford to circulate any more tabloid attention than he already has.

His phone pings, it's another confirming article from his publicist who reminds him to be weary and not squander alone. The article pageants him sky-lining a nearby trail with his costar, who has been his presuming accomplice in the media frenzy.

If anyone knows Chris they know that he's not one to follow the rules or go by the book. He likes to venture out on his own, be fanatically recluse with his thoughts before delving back into the mayhem of his own accrued lifestyle. It's a little piece of the universe he asks and that's to be left alone, to have some normalcy, be given the opportunity to watch the sun set before admiring another day in the artificial spotlight of his fame and good fortune.

"Hi sir, can I get you seated?" You greet the lost Boston native, who is now speechless when he's graced with your patient presence.

It's with subtlety that Chris is taken by you and how naturally beautiful you are under the scorching Brazilian sun. His flight of anxiety dissipates when he sees the glow of your smile that allures him to stay, even just for a little while.

"Uh sure." He breathes as you walk him to a wrought iron seat that's cast under a small patio umbrella.

Chris wasn't planning on staying. He thought he could grab his coffee to go and then bunker down in his lofty little hotel room for the time being, flip through some telenovelas and admire the gorgeous view from his balcony. But then you came along, telling him to sit, letting his insides flutter while your eyes turn up excitedly, reciting the menu off by heart. It becomes music to his cavernous ears.

"So what will it be?" You finally ask after a long winded sing song of menu musical. Chris smiles and then bows his head to chuckle lightly, it's a breathtaking ordeal that has you holding an involuntary breath. You're poised like a dumbstruck deer as he taps a coin against the cast iron table, leaning back in his seat and musing to think for a bit.

He keeps you waiting while your eyes look to the other wait staff that pass by with some curating, confused looks. There's a cornucopia of awkwardness but it's pleasurable for Chris who makes it known that he's, respectfully, undressing you with his eyes.

"I'll have your favourite." Chris states, his smile doesn't waver when you quirk a brow. Your favourite is meant to be had off the clock but your handsome guest could most definitely handle a drop of it.

"Brazilian coffee it is." You quickly scribble down his order in your memo pad that bends with the movement of your pen. Chris piques and hums while the intensity of his blue eyes cordons you still.

"Sounds good to me."

"Y/N!" The café owner calls out to you, pulling you away from your stand off with Chris whose eyes crinkle at your jittery rigor.