Sebastian Stan One Shots

rain

a/n: this makes no sense sry

He caught my eye as soon as I walked through the door.

His leather jacket, the messy black mop of hair, scruffy face...and his eyes. Bright and vibrant in comparison to his dark ensemble, brought out even further by a subtle dash of eyeliner. Everyone else in the restaurant disappeared when he was in my line of sight.

I catch myself staring and force myself to slink into a booth with my back to him, so I can't tempt myself to even look. A menu is set in front of me by a faceless waiter as I stare down at my hands.

The man looked familiar, I'm sure I knew him. I had to have known him from somewhere.

"A drink?" I hear through the fogginess of my mind, and I look up to the waiter looking somewhat concerned.

I shake my head. "I'm waiting for someone..." I mumble.

He nods halfheartedly and walks away.

Leaning forward with my head in my hands, I rack my brain for who he might be. Black hair, defined jawline, and those eyes...

"I'm sorry to interrupt, I overheard you were waiting for someone." A smooth voice startles me, and by the time I look up, he's already sliding into the seat across from me. It's him.

My mouth is void of words, my heartbeat picking up and I just stare at him, confused.

He laughs lightly. "You're not mute. Say something?" His voice as gentle as he speaks, and when moves his arm to lean his cheek on his fist, a wave of memory washes over me.

Though I don't remember where from, I'm certain, now, that I know him. The memory was just out of my grasp and now I'm even more lost.

"You know how to flirt, right?" His smirk is driving me crazy.

I ignore him, speaking through the buzz in my ears. "What's your name?"

"Sebastian." He puts both arms on the table and leans in toward me. "I should get going," he whispers, "can't keep you waiting for your date."

Sebastian starts to move out of the booth, but instinct makes me grab his arm before he can get too far.

"Don't leave." I whisper, locking eyes with him.

Slowly sinking back down into the seat, he pulls his arm back to hold my hand. "Why did you come here tonight?" He asks, holding the eye contact.

My brow furrows as I seriously consider his question. Why did I come here? I've honestly forgotten for a moment until it comes back to me.

"I was supposed to meet someone." I finally reply, and the voice that comes from my mouth seems detached from me.

Sebastian smirks, not condescendingly, and reaches his non-occupied hand out toward me. His fingers are gentle as they brush a strand of hair that's obscuring my vision and I blush, but don't look down. His fingers slowly drop from my cheek to my hand, so both of our hands are intertwined.

"Sebastian," I articulate, speaking slowly to feel every syllable of the new word on my tongue, "do I know you?"

He shrugs, pulling back one hand to run it through his hair. It looks so nonchalant the way he does it, for it being the usual "I'm-bad-and-I-know-it" move, but it suits him. His dark, now-tousled hair matches everything somehow; the soft glow of the lighting in the restaurant, the sharp sounds of utensils clanging from the kitchen, people's soft conversation hovering around us, and Sebastian's piercing eyes.

"Come with me and find out." There's an edge to his voice I can't quite place, but I trust him anyway.

Our hands are able to stay connected as we stand and push ourselves to standing. I don't look back when we walk out, instead moving closer to him and feeling his warmth beside me.

The night is dark, stars and moon glowing above us, but there's a rumbling in the distance. Thunder.

"It was you," I speak suddenly, realizing. "You were the one I was supposed to meet." A cold wave of something rushes through me, pushing feeling aside; my stomach twists and I feel lightheaded but it's all okay. I'm with him.

My pace slows as I turn to look up at him, and he's nodding, expression serious.

"You okay?" My mouth is dry, an ironic contrast to the rain starting to fall around us.

I watch him closely as he nods, but he stops suddenly.

"What's wrong?" I question, concerned.

His hand not intertwined with mine goes to my face, cupping my cheek. "Oh, love," he articulates in a light voice. His twinkling eyes are pierce even through the rain, light from the moon illuminating this small portion of his face.

The rain pours on us, matting down my hair, but I pay no attention. Right now, my mind is focused on the way Sebastian holds my hand, his other hand steadily on my hip, how we sway slowly to the beat of our hearts, our faces millimeters apart. His soft breath chills me when he speaks, and for the first time, stumbles over the words. "I- is it okay- Can I kiss you?"

A smile forms on my lips and I nod ever so slightly, but he's already moving in. This and the rain around us makes me feel some sort of way—I can't explain. But the mystery of who he was before, and the realization of us being here now, causes my heart to leap.

The kiss is slow, sweet, but doesn't last long. He's the one to pull back and stare at me with a small smile.

"Let's get somewhere to dry off and get warm," he suggests, letting go of my hand. He's already shrugging one side of his jacket off and wrapping it over me to protect me from the rain. Though I'm already soaked, the gesture is appreciated and I smile, smile through the rain and night.