Imagines: Chris Evans - Taxi

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He hasn't said a single word since showing up at your door at 4:30am this morning.  

You weren't even expecting him after the big fight you had just a few hours before that.  He didn't ring the bell, he was just out there, hanging around until you spotted his shadows through the curtained windows.  God knows how long he had been there.  He's still wearing the same thing when you last saw him.

He only muttered a "Hey." as you let him in, but you didn't bother to say anything back because you were completely exhausted with the last-minute packing.  He was supposed to help, but you ended up shouting at each other for hours before he stormed off into the night, leaving you in the middle of the room, surrounded by suitcases and half-packed boxes.

You didn't know what to do.  You knew he would be upset but you didn't see that coming.  You ended up spending at least an hour to stop your tears from streaming down your cheeks.  Stupid Chris...you should have known that he wouldn't be able to keep his promise.

He promised not to bring that up.

He also promised not to see you off.

You know he knows it, and that's probably why he's keeping his mouth shut.

You're torn.  Of course it's hard to see him so pained, but it's also him who told you to go for it.  That dream job of yours on the other side of the country.

You're not seeing each other that often anyway whenever he's away filming

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You're not seeing each other that often anyway whenever he's away filming.  You love him, but he agreed that it's not fair for you to ask you to wait around.  He told you you should accept the offer.

Of course he'd change his mind and ask you to stay instead.  But nothing can be done at this point.

All the air inside the taxi is still.  Nobody is saying anything.  Not even the taxi driver.  

You glance at Chris, clear your throat, ready to thank him for accompanying you to the airport, but then he looks right back at you.  Immediately, your throat closes up.  You're afraid that if you say anything, you'll come apart again.  He probably feels the same, because as soon as his gaze meets yours, he doesn't utter a word, he only tries his best to form a half-smile despite his bloodshot eyes and tired face.

  He probably feels the same, because as soon as his gaze meets yours, he doesn't utter a word, he only tries his best to form a half-smile despite his bloodshot eyes and tired face

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He's unable to make the smile last, though, so he turns away once again, pretending he's admiring the scenery outside the vehicle.  Little does he realise, however, he's just picked the worst time to do just that, because the warm, orange ray of dawning sun highlights the sorrow in his eyes.  

  

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