Fated (A Chris Evans Series)

Compromise

Chris awoke to the sound of Denise throwing up in the bathroom, all the alcohol she consumed the night before was starting to make its way out of her system in the most awful way possible. He grabbed a box of tissues from his bedside table and walked to where she was, kneeling down beside her to grab a handful of her hair. He plopped the tissue box down beside the toilet bowl then gently grabbed another handful of her hair, holding it back as she continued to throw up.

"Get it all out, sweetheart," Chris transferred all of Denise's hair into one hand, using the other to gently rub her back. "Let me guess," he said before she could, "'I'm never drinking again'?" She managed a light laugh and a nod before another load of fluids spewed out of her mouth. "Yeah, we'll see about that. How about you finish throwing up so I can get some food and water into you?"

"I think I'm okay now," she drew back from the toilet bowl and sat on the tiled floor, leaning back against the bathtub when Chris released her hair and got to his feet. He wet a face towel for her while she leaned forward and pulled a few tissues from the box, wiping her mouth and tossing the scrunched up balls of tissues into the toilet bowl. "Why did you let me drink so much?" She asked as Chris wrung the warm face towel in his hand.

"It was your college graduation and you really only get one of those," he shrugged then turned to her, descending to his knees in front of her. "And," he gently wiped her face, "I did try to stop you. You called me a 'party pooper' and I was offended enough to let you make the mistake of drinking yourself blind." She laughed then grimaced at the volume of her own laughter. "That's one experience I'm no longer worried I've stolen from you." She released a softer laugh and he smiled, gently touching her arm. "You're young, you'll recover faster. When I was twenty-two-"

"Ah yes, when was that again? Like a million years ago," she teased him and he rolled his eyes with an involuntary smile. "And I'm not twenty-two yet, thank you very much." Another eye roll as he continued to dab her face. "I turn twenty-two soon, we've got your birthday first. Then Luca's, then Seb's. I'm the last to have a birthday out of the four of us, remember? I'm the baby of the group, the D'Artagnan to Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, the-" She was cut off before she could finish.

"Yeah, you'll definitely recover fast. I mean-" he tried not to laugh as he teased her, "if you can talk as much as you just did then your hangover is not really that bad." His quip earned him a playful on his arm; he bellowed with laughter and she grimaced. "Shit, sorry." He covered his mouth, his loud laughter turned into a soft snicker. "Okay, get up," he got to his feet and helped her to hers. He put the lid down over the toilet bowl and flushed, instructing her to "take off your makeup and have a shower, you'll feel much better after. I'm going to make breakfast while you do that."

"Okay," Denise yawned.

"Okay," Chris chuckled, patting her butt before leaving her to it.

Denise closed the door behind Chris, stripped and stepped into the shower. She turned the water on and waited for it to heat up, shuddering when the cold water splashed on her skin. Eventually when the water warmed, she stepped under it and savored the feeling of the water running down her body. Her memory was foggy, but she was pretty sure Chris woke her up in the middle of the night to tell her he loved her. She had no evidence of such an occurrence, still she found herself smiling anyway. Chris was a romantic, she had evidence of that. She also loved the way he took care of her, so sweet and gentle. It was impossible to have asked for more in a lifelong partner.

When Denise finished her shower, she dried herself off and wrapped the towel around her body. She ran her hand over the fog on the mirror, administering a small space to see herself. She cleansed her face from all the makeup she had on from the day before then admired her bare face, smiling. Before Chris, she didn't feel beautiful without makeup. She knew she was pretty but she didn't feel pretty most of the time. To her, she was average, basic- the kind of girl she believed people wouldn't look at twice unless she really dolled herself up. But Chris? He never made her feel like that, around him she felt as though she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever laid eyes on. Perhaps she was vain but that was a feeling she'd never get sick of.