The Stranger / Chris Evans x OC

Chapter 154: Beautiful Self

AMELIA

The next few days pass rather quickly. 

Chris and I spent Thursday evening curled up on the couch, watching a movie, and on Friday my brother stopped by and had dinner with us. Olivia and Laura were away, visiting Laura's sister, but Will had to stay home for work which meant he had time to come by. 

The dinner was uneventful; we caught up with each other, and he got more friendly with Chris. I even think they have inside jokes now, they spent a lot of time talking about football and were laughing an awful lot as I cooked dinner for us. 

Once Will left, Chris and I relaxed on the couch, each of us with a book in hand as my legs were draped over his thighs. It was nice and comfortable; the domesticity of it all making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I've noticed how there's been a shift with us lately, how our interactions have become more comfortable, it feels like second nature to take each other into account when planning or doing something. 

Of course, it's still complicated due to the distance, but I always keep him in the back of my mind, remembering that he's around. And I enjoy how domestic it feels to have him staying here. I like cooking for him, and I like having him help me, despite him barely knowing anything about cooking. I promised to teach him, though, and he's eager to learn, which makes it a lot more fun. 

It also feels really nice to wake up to him in the morning, even if I have to leave him to go to work. But it feels even better to go home to him at night. He was there when I got home on Friday, and I realized he'd gone grocery shopping and started prepping for the dinner.  Walking into my apartment with the lights on, music playing and Chris standing in the kitchen?

That feeling is unmatched. 

It felt amazing, like that thing that had been missing for a while. I don't know how to bring it up, though. I feel like we've been rushing ever since we met, everything has moved at lightning speed and I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or not. I don't want to risk us moving too fast and crashing as a result; I want us to pace ourselves to make sure it's right before we take the next step. 

But I can't deny how it made me feel. I'm starting to realize I'd do just about anything if it meant I could be around him every day.

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I feel anxious from the second I wake up on Saturday morning. 

First of all, being woken up on a Saturday by my boyfriends phone ringing is not ideal. Second of all, it felt like it was at the crack of dawn, that's how early it was. I know realistically it wasn't that early, but that's what it felt like, and it made me not want to get out of bed. 

I wasn't the only one.

Chris grumbles out a hello? when he answers the phone, a deep sleepy sigh leaving his lips as he pulls me over to him. He's lying on his back, phone to his ear on one side as his arm wraps around me on the other, making me snuggle into his side. I rest my head on his shoulder, my fingers moving up to trace patterns on his chest as my leg hooks over his waist to keep me close to him. 

I keep my eyes closed as I hum, nuzzling into him and his warmth while he talks on the phone.

"Fine, what time?" His deep, sleepy voice asks, his fingers stroking my arm soothingly, "Okay, and Amelia? When and where?"

I perk up at the mention of my name, tilting my head up to look at his face. He's staring ahead of him and not at me, which gives me the perfect opportunity to admire his profile. I reach up to let my fingers caress his beard and tap his lips teasingly, and the action makes him smile, his lips puckering to kiss my fingertips.

"Mhmm," he hums to the phone, my fingers gently stroking his bottom lip, "Sounds good. I'll send you the address, we'll be ready by then. Okay.. Great.. Thanks Megan. See you later." 

He hangs up the phone, placing it on the nightstand, before he turns back to me. I look at him with a fond smile, my fingers finding their way back to his bearded cheek as he settles in, turning his body towards mine. His free hand grips my thigh, ensuring it stays locked over his hip, and then he hums sleepily as he pulls me close until my cheek is pressed against his chest. 

"What time do we need to be ready?" I murmur as I wrap my arm around him, my fingers stroking his back, his skin soft and warm under my touch. 

"Not until later baby, go back to sleep. We have some time." 

I smile, melting into him, his warmth and softness as I drift off again, but I can feel the nerves swirling inside me, my sleep never quite as restful as usual before it's time to get up and face the world again. 

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"Bug, you almost ready? We need to leave in five minutes for the hotel." 

I can feel the nervous energy rolling off me in waves as I scramble to finish up after my shower. I'm towel drying my hair, still just in a t-shirt and sweats and not even close to being ready to leave my apartment. 

Chris pokes his head into the bathroom as I'm trying to roughly dry my hair, a gentle smile making it's way onto his face when he notices my panicked expression. 

"Calm down, baby. We'll be fine." 

"Five minutes!" I exclaim, "My hair isn't even dry, I-"

"Don't dry it," Chris replies with a frown, like the notion is obsene, "Bug, which part of stylist, hair and makeup don't you get, hm? They'd rather have you show up with no products at all, they'll do everything. That's why we have to get there literal hours before we actually have to get to the premiere. It's all part of the process." 

I look at him as his words process, blinking in confusion before I drop the towel in my hand on the floor in exasperation. I can feel tears pricking the back of my eyes, my anxiety through the roof as I whimper, "Chris, I can't do this, I can't-"

He's there immediately, strong arms wrapping around me and pulling me into his chest. My fingers curl in his t-shirt, the stress inside me bubbling to the surface when tears start spilling down my cheeks. 

"Shh," Chris says gently, rubbing my back, "Shh bug, you're okay. You're fine." 

I breathe in shakily against his chest, letting the tears fall as they provide me with some much needed internal relief. 

Then his voice turns more solemn when he mumbles, "If you don't want to go you don't have to. I'm used to going on my own, it's okay, baby. I don't want you to have to do anything you're not comfortable with." 

God damn him. 

My fingers grip his shirt a little tighter and it takes me barely a few seconds before I'm shaking my head, sniffling, "N-no, I'm going, I want to be there to support you. I just.. Fuck, I'm terrified." 

"I know sweetheart," he murmurs, his large hand caressing the back of my head, "I know it's scary but just remember that we're doing it together. I'll be there. And when I have to go off to do interviews without you, Taylor and Pierre will be there."

I nod at his words, my breathing slowly steadying. 

Then he leans back, cupping my face in his large hands, his thumbs swiping under my eyes as he whispers, "And you will look absolutely beautiful. Because you always do. But today, you'll look your usual beautiful self in a floor-length gown. Doesn't that sound just a tiny bit fun?"

I break out into a small laugh, wet from crying, nodding up at him. 

He smiles warmly, his thumbs caressing my cheeks, "Atta girl. Now let's get going, you're ready baby. You'll be okay."

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