Fated (A Chris Evans Series)

Late Nights

There was no reason for Chris and Denise to stay up after putting Jack to bed, but there they were still snuggled up on the couch in the living room at 1:21AM. The television was showing reruns of 'The Simpsons', not that either of them were watching. Chris was sat at the end of the couch with his socked feet up on the coffee table that had since been moved back. Denise's head was in his lap and she faced the TV with her eyes closed; one of her arms wrapped around a quietly snoring Dodger. Chris smiled as he played with his wife's hair; hair he was glad she was letting grow back to her usual length and return to its natural color. It wasn't that she didn't suit her new color and length- she looked amazing and he'd repeatedly told her so, he just preferred her hair in its natural color and usual length.

He could still remember his confusion when he first came home after she got her hair done, it was just after Christmas. Denise wasn't the kind of person who got her hair done often, she'd only went because she got a gift certificate from a co-worker for a fancy salon somewhere in Beverly Hills and didn't want it to go to waste.

Chris had walked into the house that night to see his son in the arms of a girl that had short, curly hair with blonde highlights. And though Denise had told him she was getting her hair done that day, it didn't register with him; he thought the girl in front of him was a babysitter his wife had hired. It wasn't until she turned and he saw her face that he realized the girl was his wife. Chris stood there a little gobsmacked because he had never expected that big a change from a girl who always played it safe; Denise was usually all talk and no action when it came to her hair. If he had a dollar every time she said "I think I'm going to do something different with my hair" and returned home with almost exactly the same hairstyle- he could use the money to do something different to his own hair.

Chris continued to play with Denise's hair as she slept, smiling at how peaceful she and Dodger looked. He really did like her in his clothes, especially his Patriots hoodie. He always liked it when she wore items supporting his teams, even if it was his. He was sick of seeing her in anything that had the Yankees logo on it. Fan or not, he couldn't handle his wife on the opposing team.

Chris carefully used his foot to sweep his phone off the coffee table and onto the rug, dragging it towards the hand he had reaching down. He wanted to take a photo of Denise and Dodger sleeping, the sight was too precious not to capture and save infinitely. Seeing as the two were fairly light sleepers now that Jack was in their lives, he had to be languid with his movements. He successfully scooped up his phone without stirring either of them from their sleep, then smiled as he positioned his phone so two of his favorite beings were in the shot. But before he could take the photo, he heard Denise mumble "please don't take photos of me while I'm sleeping," and laughed.

"Why?" He asked, lowering his phone. "You take photos of me when I'm sleeping all the time. That photo of me and Dodger on the couch that went viral, that had your name written all over it. So pretend to sleep, I want this to be as cute." Denise audibly whined, nuzzling her face into Dodger's fur so it wouldn't be in the photo. "Let me take the photo." He chuckled, poking her side. The second she squirmed, she woke Dodger; he jumped off the couch and padded off. "Great," Chris huffed, pouting, "there goes my perfect shot."

"Good," she looked up at him, snatching his phone from his hand. "I don't like it when you take photos of me when I'm sleeping." Before he could ask why, she explained though she felt like she shouldn't have had to after almost four years together. "Not everyone is like you, Evans. Some people," she pointed to herself, "have to really try before they look good for a photo. So no," she shoved his phone into the pocket of his Patriots hoodie. "You don't get to take photos of me while I'm sleeping."

"You think you need to try before you look good for a photo?" He asked rhetorically, then laughed. "That is bullshit. Give me my phone," he shoved his hand into her pocket for his phone and she laughed, catching his hand so he couldn't pull it out. "I've got proof in there," he told her, smiling. "I've got a ton of photos of you not trying and you look amazing in all of them."