Next-Door Neighbor ~ (Pedro Pascal FanFic)

Chapter 2 ~ The Drink That Never Happened

(Elena's POV)
I wake up in my bed the next morning and sigh when I see all the boxes around my bed. The morning sun shines through my windows casting shadows of the lines.

"Oh shit," I say in a tired voice remembering I met Pedro fucking Pascal just last night and we're friendly neighbors now.

I reach onto the floor for my phone, unplug it, and lean back in bed with another sigh. I rub my eyes and unlock my phone. I see a message from Pedro and jerk up in my bed and open it.

Received 30 mins ago
Pedro: Good morning. I'll be over at 10:30 like you said.

I check the time. 10:33.

"Fuck."

I jump out of bed and go to get ready.

Me: just come in whenever you're here.

I undress and get in the shower. Even though I'm in a rush, I can't help but admire how big the shower is.

It's all glass (of course) with the exception of one white wall and white tiles on the floor with gold grout in between.

I hurry and wash up and grab a towel from a box in the corner and wrap myself in it.

I walk back into my room and realize I put my box of clothes in the hall outside my room.

Rushing, I run to my bedroom door and whip it open. I collide with something.

"Ah shit!" I yell in surprise as I feel cold water spill on me.

"I- I'm so sorry." Pedro says with panic in his voice as he quickly takes a step back. He was holding ice cold water in a glass which spilled all over him and I.

I can feel myself turn red and I hold my towel tighter around myself trying to warm myself from the sudden change in temperature on my skin .

"Sorry I-"

He tried to use his sleeve to dry me even though I'm literally in a towel.

"You told me to just come in whenever so I.. and I didn't know where you were so.. I.." he stopped trying to dry me off and just looked at me for a couple seconds.

He was wearing tan jeans and part of his gray t-shirt was dark from it being wet in the front.

At the exact same moment we burst into laughter. He has to bend over and grab his knees from laughing so hard. I grab my stomach in pain from laughing and I feel all my embarrassment melt away as we laughed.

After catching our breath our laughing turned to small chuckles a minute later. Like after shock from it.

"I'll let you get ready," he says smiling and wiping a tear from his eye.

He walks down stairs and I laugh to myself as I grabbed one of my boxes and went back into my room.

I smile to myself and for some reason I can't stop thinking about his laugh. It was so.. genuine.

I got dressed in a brown long sleeve oversized hoodie, put on some legging shorts under, and put my wet hair up in a ponytail.

When I go downstairs I see Pedro leaning against the counter trying to dry his shirt with a towel he must have found in one of the boxes.

I laugh and he looks at me and smiles shaking his head.

He puts the towel down and looks around the kitchen.

"Should we get started?" he asks.

For the next couple hours we talked and laughed like we'd known each other forever while we unpacked my kitchen.

I told him about how I'm a photographer and got a job from Vogue to take cover photos for the magazine here in New York.

I told him about my mom buying me the house and how everything just seemed so surreal and crazy.

He told me about how he's taking a break from his acting for a few months but he's waiting for job opportunities from his manager for in the future.

We talked about everything else too. Family life and old girlfriends and boyfriends. It felt like we knew each other better than anyone else I know.

We basically finished the kitchen and we sat on the couch to talk some more.

He sighs and leans back on the couch legs wide and I catch myself staring and look up at his eyes.

Apparently he caught me looking too because he was looking over at me with one corner of his mouth smiling.

That smirk. It makes me feel some type of way.

"How about we have that drink now as reward for our hard work?" he says lifting his head from the back of the couch still looking at me.

I stand and he watches me as I walk to the pantry in the kitchen behind us and grab the wine and a couple glasses from the cupboard.

While I walk back to the couch, I see he turned and leaned on the back of it. One arm propped up and covering his mouth as he watches me walk back over and sit down.

Nervous, I hand him a glass and try to pour the drink in his glass. Of course I spill. All over his pants.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," I say running to the kitchen and grabbing the same towel he was using earlier to dry his shirt.

I've seen the movies, I know what my minds going to do before I even wrap my head around the fact that I was going to do it.

I rush back over to him as he tells me over and over that it's okay while I keep apologizing while I start patting his pants and trying to dry them off.

He gets quiet all of the sudden.

Suddenly I realize:
Wtf am I doing. I'm literally dry.. rubbing(?) him.

I pull my hand away and look at him. He just sits there and looks at me, not moving a muscle. He just sits there. Watching me.

I see his eyes travel down to my lips and he bites a corner of his lip in his mouth.

He almost looks like he's debating something in his mind. Then, his eyes change to something else completely. Whatever debate he was having in his head, he decided.

Holy fuck.