Songbird

I am not a hero

I would just like to say thank you to all those who have read, commented, and voted on my story. There are 20 different countries, Canada, USA, Mexico, Brazil, Bolivia, Spain, Ireland, UK, France, Czech Republic, Netherlands, Germany, Sweden, Norway, Finland, Poland, Hungary, India, Bangladesh and Australia. It really means a lot to me that so many people are enjoying this story, I am a college student, and I work so I am so sorry that I have not updated this story in 2 weeks, but without further ado... 

"Umm, this may sound weird, but would you want to stay over?" He asks. Your face turns red.

"Yea." You say with your head down. Everything about him is perfect, his smile, his laugh, you can't help but smile when he does. "So, I don't have anything to wear?" You want to text your friends, but it can wait until the next day, as it already is 10 pm. Which makes it 1 am there in Chicago. You are just standing there, not knowing what to do, but everything is perfect. 

Pedro is frantically looking around to find you something. He grabs a shirt from his closest and walks out of his room. 

"Well, this is my favourite shirt, but you can wear it." He shows you a Fleetwood Mac band shirt. 

"One of my favourite bands." He smiles. 

"Follow me." He says. "So, this is the bathroom, and my room is right there." He points to the bedroom. "Umm, if you need anything in the middle of the night, just umm help yourself."

"Okay." You say with a laugh. "I am going to change out of this dress really quick." You walk into the bathroom. You lean over the sink. Okay, wow, you are in Pedro Pascal's house, in LA, in his bathroom. You have seen him on your TV many times between Taron watching The Mandalorian and you watching Narcos. You have no idea what to do. 

"Are you okay in there?" He asks. Where you really in there for that long?

"Uh, yea, just washing my face." You don't even have the stuff to watch your face. Oh my god, you are a mess. You quickly get out of your dress as quickly as possible. You put on the shirt and realise he did not give you shorts, luckily you are wearing spandex under your dress. You open the door. You don't see him, but you hear something in the kitchen. You walk over to the kitchen.

"Sorry, I was just grabbing some water, do you want some?" He asks what a gentleman. 

"Uhh, no thank you." He takes the glass and walks towards his room. You follow him. You are both very nervous. You stop at the doorway. He places the glass on the nightstand next to his bed. 

"I don't bite." He says. You laugh, you walk over to his bed. He gets in first, and you follow. 

"This is the most comfy bed I have ever slept on." He laughs; you can feel him moving around. 

"Umm, do you mind if I sleep with no shirt on, it gets hot in here, and it's just not fun?" You are unsure why he is asking. 

"Yea, that's fine." You say laughing. "I am not used to this heat, and it is killing me." 

"This is much different than New York, so I understand." 

"Yea, Chicago is hot, but this is just so hot." You say laughing. 

"Yea, but I do hate the cold, so I am back and forth between here and New York a lot." You turn to face him. He has one hand behind his head, and the other is resting on top of the blanket. 

"I don't mind the cold, but when it is -10, then I question it." He laughs. His smile can light up a whole room. There is something about him, and you connected with him so quickly, he is so open and welcoming. You have never met anyone like him. 

"Well, yea -10 is really cold, so I don't blame you." He turns to face you, and your face gets red. 

"Umm, can I ask you a question?" You ask nervously. 

"Of course." He replied.

"Well, so like in Narcos, like film, umm like." He laughs. You begin to laugh too. "Okay, like did you actually go into the jungle and stuff?" 

"Yea, everything was filmed in Colombia." He said with an accent, which made you swoon. 

"That's so cool." You were in fangirl mode. You kept going on about Narcos and he was being supportive about it all and answering all of your questions. The night goes on, and you play a game of twenty questions. 

"So, let's start off easy, favourite colour?" He asks.

"Umm, blue, and you?" 

"Purple, your turn." 

"Favourite pizza topping? As someone from Chicago, I must know." 

"Cheese, I know its basic." 

"Well yea, but it's still good." 

"What's yours?" 

"Well, first off deep dish is the best pizza, secondly..." He stops you mid-sentence and sits up. 

"New York has the best pizza." He crosses his arms. 

"Well no, but nice try sweetie." You say as you pat his arms. 

"Woah, have you ever had pizza from New York?" 

"Well no, but Chicago is superior." You say. He turns to you. He is looking into your eyes, and you are looking into his. He has no shirt on, and you are wearing one of his. This is straight out of a rom-com movie, and you know that because you have seen so damn many of them. 

"Well, we will have to change that then." He looks down and then back up. You smile. He reaches his hand over. "Is this okay?" He asks. You nod. You both lean in closer to one another. His eyes are a beautiful brown. Your lips touch. He places his other hand around your waist, while the other is on your jawline. 

This is perfect. The perfect day, the perfect man, the perfect ending. You are happy.