New to This || Sebastian Stan x Reader

the argument

april
post-production

And it was back to normal suddenly. Bags packed and stacked by the door as he got ready to leave for a couple of weeks. It would be your turn after him, travelling between locations as you started shooting Migration.

You'd spent more hours than you thought was possible building drawers for your clothes, arguing about screwdrivers and Allen keys. Then he burnt your coffee on purpose and the oat milk almost curdled to the top.

You're sat with your backs against the bed now, admiring your achievement but avoiding having to fill the drawers with the clothes you'd bought them for.

He pulls you into him with the arm that's stretched across your back, hand loose by your shoulder as his fingers fiddle with your bra strap through your top.

"You gonna be okay without me?" He asks, not a hint of humour in his voice. It's firm as he brings his bottle of beer to his mouth.

"I'll be okay without you, managed before haven't I?" You nudge him, but he looks at you with his lips pursed shut and brows almost meeting. The bridge of his nose is creased with deep wrinkles of worry but he doesn't say anything. "And I'll be gone soon, anyway. Busy, busy."

You like it when you're busy, too. Less time to think.

"And I've got the gym, I'll be fine. I'll be bigger than you in no time." You laugh and he kisses your forehead, lips wet with beer and you can imagine it's sweet from the wedge of lime that's stuck in the neck of his bottle.

"Maybe, but no stealing Don. He's mine. We really need to get you your own friends."

"I have friends!"

"I know, but proper ones. Preferably in the city." His temple rests against your hair as he blows into his bottle. 

"I have something to tell you, actually."

"Hmm?"

"I'm talking to Mateo again."

"What? What do you mean?" He pulls away from you now so he can see your face. His brows furrowed and he's blinking faster than he normally does. You catch the glimpse of a bubble in his mouth as he plays with his tongue.

"He apologised for everything."

"Hmm. Did he?" He's put his bottle down and he starts to rub at his face. "Everything?"

"All of it. He's nice."

"Is he?" Sebastian's skin creases as he pouts his lips, holding back. "Have you forgotten everything? You do remember everything don't you?"

"Of course I do."

"Because I can remind you." He gets up without looking at you now, jaw clenched.

"It's not like I have anyone else here, is it? When you're gone -"

"So, this is only when I'm away?"

"No, I didn't mean it like that. Look, Seb. I promise he's different now."

He crawls into bed now without looking at you, without giving you a kiss. And you do the same, lying on your side and facing the back of his head. Wanting to play with the curly tufts at the nape of his neck but your hand falls short, resting at the edge of your pillow.

You wait for him to bring his foot towards you, for the tips of his toes to tickle your leg as he always did. Having to be touching you to fall asleep. But he doesn't.

"Seb?" You whisper even though you know he's still awake, breaths still wild as his mind races.

"What?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too." He says without moving.

And you lie there on your back now, not really tired. Your eyes move to your jewellery box that sits nicely on the top of your newly built drawers. Next to a pile of books Sebastian wants you to read.

You listen to him breathing next to you, trying to decipher its depth. Whether they were heavy from anger or sleep. He pulled the duvet tighter around his body with a sigh which told you he was still awake.

So you didn't move, eyes studying the box or as much of it as you could see. It wasn't anything special. Wooden and covered in scuffs, corners smooth from wear and your initials still carved at the bottom as if someone would ever steal it.

It holds rings you'll never wear, necklaces with broken clasps, a random key and a bag of cocaine. Not too much. It was whatever was leftover from the last time.

You hold your breath to listen to his. They're calmer now and almost whistle through his nose. It's only the tiny sniff that tells you he's still awake.

Then, suddenly, you feel his hand take yours. His palm almost damp and his fingers warm as he gives you a squeeze. Then his foot hooks your leg at the crease of your knee.

"I'm sorry." He mumbles. "If you trust him, I trust him."

Sebastian turns to face you and he's still so beautiful in the dark. His eyes are barely open but he manages a smile.

"I'm sorry." You say. "I do trust him."

It's a lie. You don't think you could ever trust him. You don't leave your drink around him and you'd never dare be alone with him.

Sebastian's rolled onto his front, leg still tucked under yours but his arm moves across your chest with his hand tucking into your top just beneath your shoulder. He rests his head on your arm, stubble rough against your skin as he gets comfortable. You find your hand in his hair, tickling at his crown. 

"Good night. Lingurița." 

"You've really got to slow down with the Romanian, zână. Altfel s-ar putea să-ți strici surpriza." He whispers. 

"Surpriza?" You echo, the word so obvious to you even though you hadn't learnt it yet. "A surprise?"

"Go to sleep."