Broken

Nine.

Chris followed behind me so I could drop off my car at my house and hop into his. He started driving us to one of his favorite restaurants. I caught myself staring at his arms flexing as he searched for something in the backseat. His eyes were locked onto the traffic light so I knew I could get away with it. He declared the victory in finding a hat with a loud 'ah-ha'.

"Awww, I was just getting used to seeing you without a hat on." I whined and hit the bill of the hat gently with my hand. He chuckled and adjusted the hat again.
"Consider it a security blanket." He smiled at me gently. The light turned green as I forced a smile. "What is something that you use as a security blanket?" I admired his attempt to make me feel better. I thought for a minute before plugging my phone into the cord in his car. I changed the radio to the auxiliary option so I could play music from my phone. I had been in his car countless times by now. I picked the song, turned up the volume and watched Chris explode into laughter. The beginning piano intro to Don't Stop Believin' by Journey blasted out of the speakers.
"Let's hear what you've got, Jensen!" I laughed, poking fun at his character from The Losers. He sang along to the lyrics with the same movements from the scene. I laughed uncontrollably then joined in singing along to the song.

The restaurant he took us to was a small family owned and operated pizza place. The husband and wife that ran the place happily greeted Chris by hugging and kissing his cheek. The whole family referred to him as Christopher, which made my heart melt. They had known him before he made it big in the Marvel world so returning back always humbled him.
Chris introduced me to the whole family, telling each one I was starring in the movie he was directing and that it was my birthday. Every person I met from the large Italian family gave me the biggest hug.

The restaurant wouldn't be busy until dinner time but we hid in the back at his usual secluded table. The table was also extremely small, resulting in Chris being within an arms length from me.
Before the drinking started, I had asked Chris to find a way for us to talk about anything. He obliged my wishes and asked me tons of personal questions instead. I couldn't tell if I was nervous due to the questions or the person asking me the questions.

"First kiss?" Chris asked, wiping the beer from his top lip. I chugged down the rest of my third beer. I squinted my eyes to the ceiling as I tried to remember the details.
"I was 15. His name was Larry and it was during the credits of Pirates of the Caribbean."
"You were 15 when you had your first kiss!?" He laughed.
"I was late to that train, okay." I raised my hands in defeat, laughing. Another beer appeared in front of me. "Oohhh." I thanked the waiter, gulping down the beer. Chris drank the rest of his beer and told me about his first kiss.

"First time?" He asked once he finished reliving the experience with his first kiss. I giggled like a school girl.
"My first boyfriend, Eric. I was 18." I covered my mouth. His eyes widened.
"You were late to a lot of trains!" He said, laughing. I gasped loudly and pushed his shoulder. "That's not that bad! I actually ran home and told my mom after."
"You told your mom!"
"No, I ran home and told my mom!" We both laughed.
"You're right. That's worse." He shoved my shoulder back, laughing. I took a big gulp of my beer. His fingers scratched at his heavy beard. I lowered my eyes to my beer, tracing the rim of the glass with my fingertip.
"Do you miss him?" His question made me scrunch my nose in disapproval.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Uh..favorite color?"
"It's okay." I reassured him. He let out a nervous chuckle. I took in a deep breath and released it with my answer.
"I miss the idea of him."
"Would you go back to him?" His demeanor completely changed. He leaned back into the chair. I didn't have to think about it as I was already shaking my head.
"Nope." I sighed deeply. "Getting back with an ex never works. It's like taking a shower and putting your dirty underwear back on." He nodded his head, chuckling.
"I got back with an ex once."
"And?"
"It didn't work."
"I rest my case." We both laughed. "Thank you for this." I avoided his eyes. He crossed his arms on the table and leaned onto them.
"You're welcome." His voice deepened. "Happy Birthday."
"Thank you." I whispered bashfully. The realization that I had to move out of the house in two weeks returned.

"I hate packing." I mumbled, pouting my bottom lip.
"I'm really good at packing and moving boxes into a truck."
"I couldn't ask you to do that. It'll take you away from The Boss." My words started to slur.
"You're not asking me." I raised my eyes to him. "I'm volunteering as tribute." His Hunger Games reference made me giggle. "We need to take a break from filming anyways. I could ask my brother. We have a lot of friends." My smile grew quickly. A smirk curved the end of his lips. Our eyes were glued onto each other. He took in a deep breath and slightly shook his head. Like he was interrupting his own deep thoughts. He reached into his pants pocket. I gasped at the box of cigarettes he wiggled in front of him. "Smoke break?" I rapidly nodded my head as I stood from the chair.