lost in you (chris evans)

part eight

"Well you look like shit."

"Ugh." I say, sliding past him into his apartment and flopping down onto the sofa. "Arghhhh!" I whined again.

"Do I even want to ask?" He says, stood above me, laughing.

"No." I replied bluntly. "Why the fuck are you so awake, it's like, before midday?"

"Cause I didn't decide that mixing both vodka and tequila shots was a good idea."

I finally lifted my head from the pillows to look at him, "I did vodka shots?!"

He chuckled and I saw him walk to the kitchen and fill up a glass with water. "Yeah, and a lot of them. Why are you here anyway, I'd expect you to be sleeping the morning away by now." He comes back over to me and passes me the glass.

I took a sip and revelled in the hydration, water never tasted so good. "No key, couldn't get into my apartment."

"Shit, that reminds me," Tom dips into the bedroom and returns with my bag. "After you disappeared last night I found this abandoned on a chair, recognised it as and picked it up." He hands it to me.

"God Tom, you're a fucking lifesaver." I thank him, pecking his cheek. I rummage in the bag and pull out my phone, then my keys and jiggle them around in the air. "Got 'em." I smile.

"Hold on," Tom starts. "If you didn't have your keys and couldn't get into your apartment after you left the bar, then where were you last nigh-" He stopped as his eyes drifted down to my shirt. Crap. I forgot I was still in Chris' shirt. "Margot Elizabeth Peters are you wearing Chris Evans' shirt?!"

"No...?" I lied, unconvincingly.

"You so are, you totally spent the night with him didn't you, shit did you sleep with him!?"

"No. I did not sleep with him." Tom was still stood there, mouth open in the smuggest fucking smile I'd ever seen. "He just offered his place to sleep when I lost my key. I was drunk and thought it was a good idea."

"Then where's your shirt?"

I rolled my eyes. "Let it go Tom, nothing happened."

"Whatever you say." He winked

Prick.

He picked my legs up from the sofa and sat down where they had been, setting them back down on his lap.

"Exactly how much from last night do you remember?" he asked.

"None." I replied shortly, "After the shots, absolutely nothing." He laughed shaking his head. I groaned and hid my head in the cushions of the sofa again. "What did I do last night?" I asked wincing.

"Honestly it wasn't that bad, I've seen you way worse on nights out in London."

"That's not helpful Tom, I don't think it's possible to get worse than I've been on some of those nights in London." I shivered at the memories.

"True, but I honestly think you're fine, most of the cast were pretty plastered last night too, so you weren't alone in any drunken escapades. Actually, I doubt they'd even remember it."

"So I'm safe to return to set without too much shame?"

"Oh, for sure, I mean you should see what some of the others have done in the past, I remember my first night out with the cast genuinely scared me as to how hard some of them can go. I think you made a great impression, you definitely impressed them with your dancing."

I groaned into the sofa once again. "Fucks sake, why do I always dance when I'm drunk?"

"Calm down Margot. You forget that you're actually quite good at dancing - those years of training and west end shows weren't for nothing. I'm honestly surprised you can still do the splits..."

"I DID THE SPLITS!?!!?!"

Tom just kept falling back into the sofa and laughing at my embarrassment as I just seemed to forever retreat into the cushions with a  never ending inwards cringe. I finally leapt up and finally tired of hearing all of the anecdotes of my drunken escapades and turned back to Tom.

"That's it Thomas. I'm not spending my day off here with you laughing at me when I'm this hungover. I need tea, my bed and a boat load of paracetamol." I declared, intently marching towards the door, leaving a still laughing Tom behind me.

"Mar... Margot," Tom called out between breaths behind me.

"What." I spun around on my heel by the door.

"Your bag." He pointed towards my bag on the sofa with my recently reclaimed keys and phone inside. I rolled my eyes, swiftly picking up my belongings and returning the door to leave.

"Goodbye." I say before closing the door.

"See ya." Tom calls out from inside. Still laughing.

***

Finally, I re-enter my apartment with slightly less dignity than I had before I'd left last night. Only slightly. Dumping my bag by the door I make a bee line to the kitchen and lack lustily put the kettle on, retrieve a mug from one cupboard and the tea bags from another. Whist I'm waiting for the water to boil my mind wanders to this morning - or more specifically - Chris.

God, I barely know the man yet he's already in my head. I don't like him do I? I cant like him. I won't like him. I'm not going to let a stupid childish crush get in the way of what's probably the biggest break in my career. But he's just so damn handsome... and kind... and confident... and funny... and sexy. And his voice, god his voice is soooo fucking smooth it literally makes me melt.

Margot STOP.

The kettle clicks as the water finishes boiling and I shake my head to try and rid my thoughts of this damn man. I pour the water into my mug with the tea bag and walk to the fridge to retrieve the milk to pour into my drink.

Nothing would ever happen between us anyway. I highly doubt I'm his type, him going for me just wouldn't make any sense. But then what was this morning? I could've sworn he was flirting with me. Then again, I can almost definitely imagine that he's like that with everyone. I literally feel like I'm in high school again crushing on the pretty boy who'll never like me back. Well, I guess that's exactly what I'm doing.

Picking up my mug I take a sip, enjoying the tea as it comfortably warms me from the inside when my stomach growls, begging for my attention. Sighing, I open my fridge and search for something to eat, unsurprisingly disappointed by the lack of options as I forgot to go shopping earlier on in the week. Closing the fridge door I take a banana from the counter and make a mental note to go to a store when my hangover subsides and my head stops pounding.

Leaning against the countertop in the kitchen as I sip my tea, I pull my phone out of my pocket and open Instagram, hoping to catch up on what my friends have been doing back home. Weirdly well timed, as I scroll through my feed, liking my friend's posts I receive a notification on my Instagram.

chrisevans started following you

I mentally scold myself for smiling at the notification, follow him back and return my phone to my jeans pocket, suddenly very aware that I'm still in yesterday's clothes and head to the bedroom to change. Deciding on changing into pyjamas, as a nap right now sounds like heaven, I finally remove my jewellery as shed my jeans, placing them rightfully in the laundry basket. In shorts and a tank top I pull back the covers and instantly relax into the bed.

Setting an alarm for a few hours time I curl up and sink blissfully into mattress.

a/n - sorry, this chapter's a bit shit and feels like a filler, but I thought I'd post it anyway :/