...Comes From Some Other Beginnings End (Chris Evans A/U)

.2.

Third Person POV (because let's face it, this needed to include both view points)

"Did you enjoy yourself?" Chris asks Opal on the ride back to the hotel.

She breathes a sigh of relief as she nods. "I did. I don't think I truly realized how much I missed it," she pauses shifting a quick glance to him before looking outside her window, "all of it."

Chris, still unsure of what all of this means, swallows thickly as he watches the road ahead of him. He's been holding back about a hundred questions that keep rolling around in his head, wanting to grant her time to answer them without him coming across as interfering. But his resolve is waning thin as he parks his car in a space.

He unbuckles, turning towards her. "Opal," he starts.

"Do you want to come up?" she asks, seemingly unwilling to meet his gaze as she clutches her purse in her lap.

Unsure of it himself, he agrees. "Uh, okay, yeah, sure," he stutters.

"You don't have to if you don't want. I just figured we could talk, ya know, about everything," she says quietly, barely lifting her eyes.

"I'd like that actually."

Opal leads the way through the lobby, walking straight onto the elevator that a man just stepped out of. The quiet on the ride up is the first bit of silence between them since Chris picked her up.

There's a sense of tension between the two. It's not anger or frustration though. Maybe a sense of uncertainty where each other stands, although they both believe if the other did just one thing it would all release and fall away.

Chris follows behind Opal down the hall, again fighting the urge to touch her in some way. Stopping at a door, Opal pulls the key from her bag, Chris quickly plucking it from her fingers. She looks at him confused. He gives her a soft smile, placing the key against the lock box, turning the handle and holding the door open for her.

A small visible look of relief comes over her as she steps into the room. "Do you want anything to drink? Or eat? I think I've got a few things left over on the coffee table from the trip up."

Chris walks over to the opposite side of the room, taking a seat on one side of the couch. "I'm alright. Thanks though."

Opal slips her flats off before curling her legs up under her as she takes the other side of the couch, pulling her skirt out over her feet. "So."

"So," he mimics her.

They'd manage to keep the conversation light and breezy with Laura and Spencer, but Chris noticed anytime someone asked her a detailed question as to why she was here, she'd flip the script and ask about the baby.

"There's a lot to talk about. I'd rather you tell me where to start, Chris."

He lays his right arm across the back of the couch, his other elbow resting on the arm. His hand runs over his mouth before answering. "Why are you here, Opal? Why Atlanta?"

"That should be a simple answer, but much like the last few months it's all been anything but simple," she says quietly. "Do you want the short or long of it?"

He squints a little, watching her. She's fidgeting with the pleats of her navy skirt, chewing the corner of her lip. "Let's start small," he answers, giving her a bit of reprieve knowing that eventually everything will come to light.

"Pops."

He chuckles. "Normally, I'd say that's an acceptable answer. But, I think, no, I know, I'm gonna need more than that."