How would you feel? (if I told you I loved you) ((english version))

Don't tell me 'cause it hurts

AN : angst is a pain in the ass to write but hope you'll like it anyway :)

The morning after her break down, she's still comfortably cuddled onto Chris's arms, body lazily thrown over his and head resting on his warm and naked chest. Wait, naked chest? She opens her eyes, taking on her surroundings and she is in Chris' room, in his bed, with him. When she had woken up for the third time the night before, they were still on his couch... That means that he had carried her onto bed. Shit, she loves him... Loves? What? Her heart races in her chest, how? When? Oh god, she's terrified, she's not ready for that! Christ, how had he managed to just make his way right through her heart? Oh she isn't ready for love, not again, not now! It's too sudden, too early. Fucking hell. She quickly shuts that trail of thoughts when Chris begins shifting at her side, slowly waking up. He opens his eyes, and fuck, she's gone... His sleepy smile is a torture to watch because she's not sure of what to do. Does she like him? For sure, the guy is dreamy, he's the best! Does she love him? Stop with the fucking blue eyes Chris please! God she doesn't know what to do! "Hey sleepyhead, you ok?" She just wants to groan because his morning voice is so hoarse and deep, it does things to her. She only manages to nod because he stands up from the bed and he's half naked and all his glory is on display before her eyes. God, he's huge! Luc', look somewhere else please! But he's huge EVERYWHERE! In almost three months of relationship, it's the first time she actually sees him in this state of undress. And she definitely likes it. As he pulls sweatpants over his black briefs, she can't help but admire the firmness of his pecs and the clenching of his abs. It's too hot in there. My god, his biceps flex and his back muscles just ripple when he puts on a shirt. She'll have dirty dreams about that for years now, good job Chris. Throwing her a smirk, the bastard, he tells her he's making breakfast and all she has to do is stay in bed. Yep, no problem babe. She thinks about last night, how he had been here for her, calmed her, reassured her or just held her hand when she had woken again. He had dried her tears and kept repeating to her that it wasn't her fault, trying to print his words on her head. Wow, maybe she loves him. And right on time, the object of her thoughts appears at the doorway, wearing a fucking apron and holding a big tray full of pancakes, bacon, eggs and a lot of coffee. She only notices the small bouquet of white lilies and the little note he had scrawled when he puts the tray down on the white bedsheet. Looking up, she meets his eyes and he smiles at her. That devastatingly handsome smile. She takes the note and reads it. You deserve everything, don't let anyone tell you otherwise, with love, Chris. Oh Chris. Without an ounce of hesitation, she crosses the distance between them and kisses him with everything she has. Yep, she's in love with him. No doubts, she is. He responds to her kiss, and he doesn't pull back when she begins moving her lips against his, pushing her tongue against his mouth, waiting for him to open it. When he does, she invades it, tangling her tongue with his, kissing him hungrily, letting all the sexual tension she had hold back out in this kiss. She manages to straddle his laps clenching her thighs around his waist, rubbing herself against him in a pathetic attempt to release some frustration. He lets her mouth go and trails his kisses along her neck, his big hands grabbing her backside, stopping her rubbings. Shit, she wants him. And she's not afraid. He kisses this spot behind her ear and she swears she is seeing stars. Oh he knows what he is doing to her. He slows his kissing, cradling her onto his chest again and she has to remember how to breath because she's so sure that a little more kissing and touching from Chris would have been enough to make her come. "Wow, not that I'm against it, but the food is going to be cold, plus, not to kill the mood, but you're clocking on in two hours... And if we dive right onto this, I can't promise that I'll be finished with you in such a short time". Cheeky... But she follows suit, sitting against him on his bed, watching Chris pouring cups of coffee and putting syrup on the pancakes, making a pile of it in another plate. Wow, that looks so domestic... Go big or go home, Lucie... "Hey Chris" she calls, catching his attention. "Is it to soon to tell you I'm in love with you?". Nice, that's totally a normal way to ask that kind of things right? "Well, is it to soon to answer you that I'm in love with you too?". Nope, definitely not too soon. And he's not David, Chris seems so fucking genuine about all of this feelings conversation that she has no other choice than to believe his every words. She kisses him again and their morning goes on without any bump on the road. Before she has to leave and take her shift, she kisses him again, little I love yous are exchange, as well as a promise of dinner tonight. She rapidly stops at her apartment, changing and taking a new set of scrubs and jogs to the hospital. Her mood is so good, she's sure nothing can taint it today. She loves and she is loved in exchange. What can go wrong? She enters the locker room and stops at her locker, dumbfounds. Multiples mags issued articles are glued to the metal panel. Approaching, she makes out her and Chris faces, holding hands in the streets, kissing like teenagers behind a supermarket shelf, or just sitting on a bench in the park, cuddled. What the heck is that? Yeah, she has a boyfriend, but what is she doing in front covers of magazines? She only realizes it when she reads the captions next to the pictures... "Who's the new girl that caught Chris Evans' heart?" or "Captain America's actor Chris Evans and girlfriend spotted at the park" and her favorite is "Chris Evans' new chick disappoints the world, is Chris blind?". Please, please, makes it be a fucking lie, a stupid joke made to the interns each year! Pulling out her phone, she is going to google it when a text message from her Chris makes its way on her screen. I'm so sorry... And that's it. It's not a joke. He had lie to her. For three months. Three fucking months! Chris fucking Evans. Her vision blurs and before she knows it, she crumbles on her knees, crying out her disillusion. She had given her heart to a fucking lying shit, once more. She is cursed, there's no other explanation.

When she had told him that she was in love with him, he had been a little bit thrown off. But he loved her too, so, what's the problem? Maybe that he still hadn't tell her about being the Chris Evans... He wanted to tell her so much after she confessed her feelings, because if she loved Chris, she'll love all of him right? Even the famous part? But he hadn't done anything and the day had gone on, the memory of their incredible make out session this morning still embedded in his brain, the feel of her, her little sighs of pleasure or the way her nails had bit in the skin of his back... Oh god, she had been perfect... And his day still had been perfect... Until Scott's phone call. And he had knew that it was the end. Because she'll never forgive him for lying to her, he had known of her fucking trust issues but he kept silent, selfishly because he hadn't wanted to see the way she's looking at him change. He has been a selfish bastard and now he is going to pay the price. She'll never come back to him. He knows it. And he had pathetically sends her a dumb text with a dumb meaning! Yes, he's sorry, but she'll not care because he is the one breaking her heart this time... You deserve everything, you deserve the best, you deserve the world... He isn't worthy of her love, if she deserves everything, he doesn't... What kind of jerk is he? Shit, he loves her damn it! And he ruined everything. Because he hadn't been brave enough just to tell her that he is Chris fucking Evans, and that's so childish because she had revealed everything to him yesterday! Things beyond comparison! But he still had acted like a fucking fool! His phone chirps and that's it. I'll pass by after my shift to collect my things, being sorry isn't enough Chris. At least, he'll see her one last time, maybe he can explain to her why he had done things that way... And here he is, waiting like a pathetic idiot for her shift to end. What had he done? Christ! The one thing that was good in his life, he ruined it, like everything before... She is all that he wants, but because of his frightened dumb ass, she'll never want him again. Everything that he was afraid of is now in display in front of his fucking eyes. Someone knocks at the door and he literally rushes through the living room, Dodger following. Oh, bud... You're going to be so disappointed in me... He opens the wooden panel and he stops breathing. She's right there, invading his space, but so so far away, out of reach... Her eyes are puffy and her mascara is a little smudged. And it hurts like hell knowing that he is responsible for that. She doesn't talk, just slips between him and the doorway, making her way through his place. She opens her work bag and stuffs every single things she had left at his place during the last three months into it. She is erasing every little clue that she had been here, and he feels his heart cracking. That's it, they are done. She continues in silence during five tensed minutes before making her way out without even looking at him. He makes the stupid mistake of touching her shoulder, just to make her turn around and stay a bit more, but she physically flinches away from his touch, and for the first time since Scott's phone call, a stupid tear escapes him, because it is definitely over. So he lets her go... "Lucie, just know that everything was real to me" he calls out, in the darkness of the night, "I wasn't lying when I told you that I love you...". And she is gone, not looking back even once. Letting him whipping his pathetic ass. The door closed and he fells to the floor, his misery his only friend. And maybe a good bottle of vodka, he's not sure. Yeah, he's the worst guy ever... He drinks and drinks until his mouth feels as dry as the fucking Sahara and drunkenly dials her number. Voicemail of course. So he lets a message. "'m so srry, fuckin pathetc, nevr wannd to hurt ya, 'm so srry Lucie, so fuckin srry... still luv ya...". Yep, depression is going to be a bitch, but he deserves that. He has hurt her. It's his fucking fault. He has done that to him. He is going to live with it every fucking day of his pathetic and miserable life. That's a promise he's making to her. A promise because he fucked up. He has failed. He failed her.

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