Why Run From It? || Pedro Pascal

1. Freaking out over breakfast

When I woke up, I felt like a truck just had hit me. The hangover was bad and all I felt like was just lying in bed all day, but I knew that there was a man next to me, which was in my house after the one-night stand. I opened my eyes to look at him. He was sleeping on his back, and one of his hands behind his head, under the pillow. He had his mouth opened slightly as he let out a snore, which did in fact make me laugh. I covered my mouth as I laughed not to wake him up. 

He was very attractive, but a lot older than me. It was easy to see. I was in my mid-twenties, while he was probably in his late forties... which I did not mind. I got out of bed and went to my closet to pick some clothes. Nothing special just home clothes. When I was done I went to the kitchen to make some breakfast for us. I drank some water and took a painkiller first because my head was really killing me. 

I made us toasted bread with avocado and a runny egg. Two for him and one for me. I also made coffee for us before going to wake him up. He was still sleeping, although now he was sleeping on his side facing the door. The sun was hitting the room perfectly and I felt this weird feeling as I watched him for some seconds. It was such a weird feeling, I wouldn't be able to describe it. 

I walked to the bed and sat down beside him. I felt nervous to wake him up. I shook him lightly as I repeated, "Hey, wake up... I made breakfast". He groaned and I could feel him tense up under my arm as he opened his eyes. "Good morning," God damn it... his voice. "Good morning," I said and smiled. "I made breakfast... I will wait in the kitchen," I said and I stood up to walk out of the room. 

I could feel his eyes on me the whole time. When I got to the door, I looked back at him. The eye contact, oh, the eye contact made me skip one or more heartbeats. I played it off cool and sent a small smile before closing the door to give him some privacy. I sat in the kitchen at the table. It was an open kitchen. You could see inside it from the living room. The kitchen was big, but I wouldn't have it otherwise. It was a place I liked to be inside, as a chef. There was a small table for two people in the kitchen too which I waited at. 

I sipped at my coffee as I heard the door open and I looked up. He had his clothes on now, which was a shame but I wouldn't comment on it. Describing the silence as awkward would be generous because it was more than that as he sat down. He wouldn't even make eye contact with me. Jesus, I was the mistake he made last night. 

"I made avocado toast and some coffee. I made it black since I don't know how you like it..." I said and he nodded. "Thank you," He looked like he had something he really wanted to ask but didn't know how to. He sipped his coffee before looking at me. "I... I have a question..." Do I wanna know the question at all? My guess is that it will be. Did we have sex last night? Do you remember what happened last night? Both are yes answers. I wasn't that drunk to not remember, but was he? He didn't seem enough drunk for that. 

"How old are you?" Fuck, he is probably gonna freak out when I tell him. "I am 24," I answered as I looked down at my plate. "Holy shit," guesses correct then. "I could be your father basically! What is wrong with me?" He ran his hands through his hair repeatedly as he was thinking hard. He didn't exactly ask for my age yesterday. "How old are you?" I asked. "47!" He would probably freak out even more if I told him he is older than my father. But in my defence my parents were teenage parents so, it doesn't count. 

"I think I need to go... I-" He turned to me and stopped. I had my eyebrows furrowed as I looked at him the whole time. "Don't you think it's weird?" Stupid questions, yes I do. Do I care? no. "I don't really care," I shrugged. "I mean there are people with bigger age gaps out there. "It is like what... 25 or 23 age gap!" I sighed. "23," I said as I watched him avert his eyes from me and look at his hands which he was fidgeting with. 

"Ruby right?" He looked up as I nodded. "I just- we just can't," I let out a small laugh which made him look up at me again and furrow his eyebrows. "Why not?" God, it felt like my relationship was falling apart but it was just a one-night stand. "You are 24," I nodded before answering. "And you are 47, so what?" He shook his head. 

"I really need to go,"  he said as he stood up. He gave me one last glance before picking up his jacket, putting his shoes on and leaving. There I was, alone in the apartment with an uneaten breakfast which I prepared for us. He didn't even touch the coffee. He did not take the age gap well... 

I ate my breakfast and washed the dishes. I hated to throw away food, but there was no way I would eat his portion also. I needed to leave for work soon, but he never left my mind. There was something about him that made me wanna see him again, hear him again, talk to him again, feel him again... 

I would curse his name if it didn't flow so greatly. Pedro Pascal would be my doom if I wouldn't stop thinking about him.