His Dirty Little Secret (Chris Evans)

48. A close call

Next morning it’s back to work. It’s the usual routine. Wake up, hide in my duvet for five minutes not wanting to move, get up, eat a breakfast bar, brush my teeth, get dressed and head out to go pick Chris up. I collect him a coffee first, of course. Just the daily morning routine. He hops into the car and takes the coffee from my hand.

“Ahh, perfect.” He mumbles, inhaling the scent and then taking a sip. I smile uncontrollably, heading to the studio. He then smiles boyishly over at me, making my heart skip a beat. “Mornin’.”

“Gooood morning.”

“How you doing?”

“Yeah, I’m good. You?” I ask, glancing over at him for a second before looking back at the road. He nods gently, taking another sip of the coffee.

“Yeah. Missed you yesterday.” He says quietly, his finger following round the rim of the coffee cup lid. He doesn’t look at me, not properly, just shyly glances over slightly to catch my reaction. Bastard. I blush deeply, smiling involuntary.

“You did?” I ask and he starts smiling, nodding.

“I did. A whooole lot.” He says dramatically and I laugh a little, shaking my head.

“Shu’up.” I mumble, pushing his arm playfully, making him laugh.

“Whoooa! Careful, I am holding a hot substance!” He says in his silly, adorable high-pitched voice, making me laugh harder.

“You are a hot substance.”

“Ugh, staaap it! You’re making me blush.” I smile, rolling my eyes. Such a drama queen. “Who are we listening to today?” He asks curiously, focusing on the music suddenly.

“This is ‘Just Friends’.” I tell him and he takes a few moments to take it in, before nodding approvingly.

“I like. It’s very… funky.” I laugh a little and nod.

“Yeah, th-they are. I tell you, seeing them l-live is an experience.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I saw them back in England in B-Bristol, and it was a really small v-venue. Like, tiny. The stage was the size of the inside of this car, I swear. And th-there were about eight of them all crammed on it. With instruments. And everyone was j-jumping all over the place. It was insane! Like a nnnight out. It was g-great, though.” I tell him, smiling at the memory. He smiles, watching me in awe.

“You really love it, don’t you?”

“Hm, what?”

“Music - going to shows.”

“Oh… Yeah, I do. It’s probably my favourite thing to do.” I say, starting to miss it again. “Back home, it was really the only th-thing that m-made me forget everything. All the bad shit. It was one of the rare times I was really happy, y’know?” He smiles softly and nods.

“Meg,”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?” I nod gently. “Did you ever have depression?” His question takes me off guard slightly and he seems to notice. “Sorry. Forget I asked. I didn’t mean to—“

“No, no. It’s f-fine. I just… no, I don’t r-really think I did. I mean, I used to be sad a lot. I sometimes hated my life… But I shouldn’t have. I never really had it hard. I mean, I knew p-people who were going through worse than me.”

“That doesn’t mean your pain wasn’t important.”

“I guess…”

“Did you ever see someone?” I shake my head.