Just a Hair Stylist - Chris Evans story \\✔️

Chapter Forty

Fucking hell. There it was. Inescapable. Right in front of you. Mocking you. Tormenting you. Reminding you, you had only one thing to do on this press tour...and it wasn't going to be pleasant.

Looking up at you, from the middle of your suitcase, was the red, menacing face of your HYDRA t-shirt from the NOLA comic con. You were having such a good time, you'd forgotten your triple dog dare from Frank. To get his blessings to be gone for the trip, you had to send him a photo from the tour, of you and Chris, with you in the un-official uniform shirt of Team Crossbones. You still didn't know how you were going to make that happen, but you were smart enough to flip the lid of your suitcase closed when you heard the handle of the bathroom door turning to open, keeping the tee out of sight as Chris came back into the bedroom. You made a distracted and casual play at inspecting your long sleeve t-shirt for wrinkles against the morning light in the window, before pulling it on overhead and pushing up the sleeves below your elbows.

It was an adorably domestic morning in Singapore. While you loosely gathered up your hair in one hand, turning from side to side to eye your reflection and debate a hairstyle in the bathroom mirror, Chris reached around you for his watch from the vanity. He could have asked you to move, but instead he leaned to bend under your raised elbow, as you twisted your hair around your fingers to see another style, dotting a kiss behind you ear when he stood back up. You bit your lip with a smile at him in the mirror, your eyes tracking him in the mirror on the next wall back to the bedroom, as he fastened his watch band. He picked up the half-empty coffee mug he'd been wandering around with since breakfast, disappearing into the living room as he checked his phone and sipped his cooling coffee.

You were just tucking in a simple gold colored bar style bun pin, when Chris called from the other room to offer you the last of the coffee. You told him it was all his, moving on to put on a little makeup for the long day ahead. The light addition of copper colored crème eyeshadow was its own accessory for the thin navy stripes that crossed your v-neck shirt you selected with your pale khaki shorts with the cuffed hem and wide brown belt with a gold buckle. The subtle tan that your skin had begun to soak up from the spring sun in LA helped highlight all the effort you'd been putting in to "getting back into fighting shape", as Frank had called it, after your little stitched foot disaster. You gave yourself an approving nod, tucking in an off center tab of your shirt's hem behind your waistband to show off your belt and give you just the right amount of effortless hotness.

Chris crossed paths with you, on his way to the closet for his suit coat and your way out of the bathroom. You both turned to slide past each other, with a cute titter from you both at the near collision. He flattened the collar of his white polo shirt in the mirror and you spritzed on one of your favorite flowery scents from the travel-sized bottle you picked up at Bath & Body Works. You dropped the mini-bottle in your purse and stepped into a pair of wedge sandals. You traded balance from one leg to the other, kicking your foot up behind you to adjust the straps at your heels and caught Chris admiring the view, his eyes finishing their trip up your legs to settle on your ass. Realizing he'd been busted, when you cleared your throat and quirked an eyebrow at him from over your shoulder, he ducked his head, running his hand over his bearded chin beneath a shied smile.

"You look very nice," he complimented.

The sincerity in his voice, mixed with that hint of bashfulness, practically made you swoon. You didn't mind the attention or the compliment, but still decided to play.

"Uh-huh," you nodded, planting your hands on your hips. "Nice try, buddy." You pointed to your face, adding, "My eyes are up here."

Chris laughed, shaking his head at you. He took a few steps forward to meet you, putting a hand lightly on your elbow and turning his face to kiss your cheek. He let go of your arm, reaching behind you to give your ass a gentle swat.