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"Okay, but give me one good reason why I shouldn't dip my pickle in my milkshake right fucking now, Chrissy." I asked in all seriousness, tilting my head and softly cocking my brow towards Chris, who stood adjacent to my figure sitting indian style atop the granite countertop.
"Firstly, disgusting. Secondly, disgusting." He stifled back a laugh at my genuinely confused expression twisting my brows and scrunching my nose, mindlessly finding himself burning a memory of the woman's raw, beautiful face in its natural state. God she's perfect. He thought to himself while a tingling, bubbling sensation encircled around his now thumping heart, not bothering to realize he was blatantly staring.
"Christopher..." I drawled out nervously chewing the flesh of my bottom lip, trying to reframe from being consumed with the fiery sensation burning my cheeks and the surges of stinging goosebumps trickling down my spine. "Ya know, some considering staring to be rude." I tried to wisecrack in the attempt to rid myself from feeling as if I were burning alive, his enthralled blue eyes, laced with endless hues of the ocean, making me feel like I was the only girl in the world; the admiration glowing in his iris's feeling like nothing I'd ever experienced, something my brain couldn't seem to properly explain.
"Shit, my bad. I-uh, sorry." He stammered swallowing hard on the knot constricting his air flow, nearly spraying the remnants of beer from his mouth. Wiping the strays beads of alcohol glistening atop his scruff with open palms, his perfect lips turned inward as his cheeks became flush with a crimson hue; embarrassment radiating from his awkwardly fidgeting mannerisms.
"I mean, uh, it's- I- whatever, forget it. Apparently I suck at forming sentences." I stuttered becoming effortlessly flustered while my fiery cheeks alerted me that I was probably red as a tomato, only adding to the embarrassment which felt like a blaring spotlight honed in exclusively on me.
"You know what?" Chris finally choked out resting his opened palms on the countertop behind him while exhaling a steady breath, lifting his previously dropped head, resting between his visibly tensed shoulders, up until our eyes met once again. "NCIS?" He suggested with a sheepish smile tugging the corners of his lips, softly cocking his brow towards my eyes blinking twice at his statement.
Jesus Christ, I might just have to marry this man.
"Evans, you might just be my new favorite person." I breathlessly laughed dumbfounded by just how well he knew me, refreshed in the way he treated me like an actual person not a piece of meat or an object to entertain himself.
• • •
Flickering his fatigued eyes open, an exhausted induced yawn made Chris's chest rise underneath the blanket when he realized a head of mangled blonde hair nestled in the crook of his shoulder. Blissfully smiling at the way everything inside her seemed still, how her nose adorably scrunched every time she took a deep breath, the way her brows softly furrowed like she was caught in an argument within her own dreams, the way her heartbeat thumped against his chest, the way her body heat felt like summer on his skin, and the way a dainty floral scent wafted through the air into his nostrils every time she stirred. This was a moment he never wanted to end, he could truly say with the utmost of certainty he could stay like this forever.
"Stella Fitzgerald, I might just actually love you." He whispered in a featherlight tone as the words rolling of his tongue coiled his insides into intricate knots, he was in deep and a brick wall of realization made sure he was aware of it.
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It's been a HOT SECOND PHEW🥵 Anyways, it's getting SPICY up in here my weak heart is going WHOOSH😩 Let's get this tea spilling party STARTED STAY TUNED💃🏻
