One Shots

Hate post - Chris Evans

*warnings: depression, mostly thoughts.*

How you always find yourself from Twitter from reading hate tweets? Especially when people just find out that you and Chris Evans are dating. There's, of course, nicer tweets too, but sometimes you just read the hate ones. Most of them are very offensive or even violating. Like “kill yourself!” Etc. You can find tweets like “Stay away from Chris!” , “Chris deserves someone better!” , “Why Chris is even dating you? You really are not that pretty…” , “when do you decide to jump off the roof?” or “no one loves you, no one won't even notice if you died.”

   It is very depressing to read those and it doesn't help to your depression at all.

But hey! They're speaking the truth. Chris really deserves someone better. Did you really think he would love you? He's probably faking it and just right now cheating on you. How could you know? He hasn't texted or called you yet today. And it's already 9pm.

Other things are true, too. For example “no one loves you and no one won't notice if you died” is true. Everyone in your life has abandoned you. Your parents, all your ‘friends’ (you never had many, like one or two), and Chris will do that soon.

   Suddenly your phone starts to vibrate and you check who is calling. It's Chris. Probably he wants to break up with you? If you just don't answer the phone. Yeah, that's what you do.

You just stare at his picture on your phone screen for about one minute before he hung up. You turn off your phone and leave it on coffee table in living room. You walk into the kitchen and eat a bread before you make yourself ready for bed.

   You quickly brush your teeth, wash your makeup away and do your business in the bathroom. Then you change to your pj's and went to bed. Turning off the light, you pull covers over your body and make yourself comfortable.

Immediately when you relax in the bed your thoughts starts to run through your mind. Depression is a bitch.

  You end up crying yourself to sleep.

It's 7am when you woke up. Groaning you get up from the bed, ready for the next day. Even though you remember yesterday, you just shake your head trying to get those thoughts away. You fail badly. Damn it. You take a deep breath and walk into the kitchen. You make yourself some cereal and pour some orange juice into a glass. You take them with you to living room and place them on the coffee table. You turn the TV on and watch news while eating.

  You notice your phone on the table and pick it up.

When you turn it on, twenty missed calls and thirty seven unopened messages from Chris were waiting for you. What the actual fuck? You sigh deeply and open the messages first. He keeps asking where you are, what has happened and begging you to pick up your phone. Now he knows you've seen them, though. You roll your eyes and put your phone down, continuing eating your breakfast.

It's no long time when your doorbell rings. “Hold on!” you shout as you put the empty cereal bowl down and walk to open the door. Just guess who there was? Surprise, surprise, Chris. “What are you doing here?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest. Oh how much you just want to throw your arms around his neck and give him a long kiss, but no, you can't do that. He doesn't love you. “Why aren't you answering your phone! You got me worried sick!” He asks, sad expression on his face as he takes your both hands in his own, big and warm ones. You remain silent as he stared down at you and you stared down at your own feet, afraid to look up and see his beautiful eyes. “Please, tell me what's wrong.” He begs, letting go of your hands and putting his hands on your cheeks, forcing you to look at him in the eyes.

You look at him and a tear rolls down your cheek. He wipes it away gently with his thumb and pulls you into a warm and comforting hug.

   Soon you both pull away and you let him inside, opening the door wider and closing it behind him as he stepped inside. He takes his blue jacket and kicks his shoes off.

“Now tell me all.” He says, giving you a kiss on your forehead.

You sit on the couch in the living room. You take a deep, shaky breath, thinking where to start.

“It's about my depression, I guess. There's a lot of hate in Twitter and I, again, somehow found myself from reading them. And I know you say they're bullshit. But if they're true? Actually most of them are pretty much true. You deserve someone better than me. You're a famous actor with millions of fans out there and I'm– I'm just me. I'm nothing compared to you. And well, I don't have family, friends, nothing. Everybody has abandoned me. So, I ask you, why are you with me?” I tell him. As you ended your story, you just sat there nervously playing with your hair, twirling it around your index finger.

“Y/N, listen. They are bullshit and you shouldn't believe even a word of them, and you shouldn't even read them.

You're not abandoned! I'm here and I want to be with you because I love you. I want to take care of you, especially when you don't have your family or friends around. You mean to me a lot, Y/N. And I truly love you.” He says, looking you in the eyes. You immediately know he's telling the truth, without doubts. He grabs your hips and you sit on his lap. He keeps his other hand on your hip and cups your jaw with the other. He leans in and closes the gap between the two of you into a passionate kiss, full of love and care. You wrap your arm around his neck and pull him closer, deepening the kiss.

   Soon you both pull away to breath.

“Okay, that tells me a lot already, but I have to make sure… are you okay now?” He asks, smiling softly. You let out a giggle. “At least better.” you respond.

He pulls you into another passionate kiss.