"Hey baby, wake up,"
His knuckles brushed my cheek and I lifted my head from his lap. I must have only been asleep for 20 minutes or so, but my hip ached against the cold airport bench.
"Aw, hey sweetie," I outstretched my arms to take Chica's cage from the staff and looked inside at her reproachfully.
"How did you like the flight, Chica?" Pedro wiggled his finger at her and she head butted the cage to rub against him.
We made our way out to his car in the chilling New York night air. In the car, Pedro lifted Chica out of her cage and she settled into his arms.
"I'm a dog person, but I think I'm doing well," he grinned at me. My chest fluttered at the sight of him cradling her.
The everlasting glow of the lights whizzing by as we drove was comforting to me in my sleep deprived state; I had missed New York, as much as I enjoyed the last few months in Paris.
My ears pricked up at the sound of 'Dreams' by Fleetwood Mac that played quietly in the car radio.
"Hey, look at that," I prodded his old fleetwood t shirt and turned it up, leaning back into my seat. He hummed along effortlessly, a warm palm placed in the middle of my thigh as he drove.
"Okay important question," he said as he turned at the crossroads.
"Go on.."
"Favourite Fleetwood Mac song. Go,"
I hummed, wiggling my fingers over the dashboard.
"It's gotta be 'Only over you,' always loved that one," I answered. He raised his eyebrows and smiled.
"I'm impressed, that's a good one,"
"Okay, yours?"
"Sara," he said without missing a beat. "That song got me through so much years ago, when my mom passed and-"
His voice cracked a little and he bit his lip, and I squeezed the hand that was resting on my leg.
"And when I was a broke, struggling actor in this city and had nothing. Now here I am, right in the very same place but I have everything. I mean, I have you," he glanced at my shyly, keeping his focus on the road. Blood shot through my cheeks and I bit back my emotion at his words, not knowing what to say back.
"If I ever had a little girl, I'd want to call her Sara," he smiled weakly in his daydream and flutters stirred in my stomach.
"Mm, pretty name," I said dreamily, biting my nail and imagining my life with him, a family. A smile couldn't help but spread across my face.
We arrived soon after at his apartment and hauled my bags in, huffing and puffing. His apartment was surprisingly beautiful, and huge considering this was New York. I let Chica out of her carrier and she lazily wandered around the place, quickly settling into a beanbag and not moving for the rest of the night.
I unpacked my suitcase a little and got ready for bed in the bathroom, brushing out my loose brunette curls and rubbing at my face with makeup remover to take off the remainders of it. My green eyes were lined with remnants of mascara that wouldn't budge and dark circles traced under them; I wanted to look nice here for Pedro, but something about a long haul flight always made me look dishevelled.
I sighed and ran fingers through my hair, returning to his bedroom. He was already settling into bed having stripped down to his boxer shorts. Noticing me entering he pulled me into his arms, pressing lips to my forehead as we stood in his room. I felt guilty for my lack of words earlier, and as he opened his mouth to speak, I got there first.
"I've never felt happier than I am with you," I blurted, chewing on my lip and looking up at him. His eyes softened and glimmered with a potential tear in the low lighting of his bedroom.
"Me too," he choked, tracing my temple with his finger.
"Hey you have freckles, I never noticed," he leaned in to examine the marks that littered my face, more so on my cheeks and nose.
"Yeah well, they get hidden under makeup quite a lot, never been a huge fan of them," I looked at my feet. He guided my face up to his with a finger under my chin.
"They're beautiful. You're beautiful," he said softly, and my nose scrunched with my smile as I pulled him in to kiss me.
I rarely thought of myself as beautiful; I was maybe regular girl pretty, but spending most of my time around A-list celebrities who looked like they'd been crafted by the gods makes you quickly forget that. I should find it hard to believe he really found me beautiful, especially in comparison to his colleagues, but the cadence and conviction of his voice made me fully believe he means it.
We soon settled into his bed in attempt to get a few hours of sleep before the sun rose for the day of my birthday. I had no clue what we were going to do, but I didn't care. All that mattered now was my bare skin softened against his and warm under his sheets, are bodies intertwined and the rise and fall of his chest under mine.
YOU ARE READING
Forbidden - Pedro Pascal
RomanceDance choreographer Lily is surprised to find herself falling for her newest work in training, Pedro Pascal: the starring role in her Dad's new film. Will they ever be more than a forbidden love?