Cinderella’s Curfew

Cinderella’s Curfew

By avenger-nerd-mom

Actor Chris Evans meets with an OFC/Reader who wins a radio contest for a date with him, but plans change because of winter weather.  This is the conclusion to the story.

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1788

A special thanks to @ek823, who inspired this with her #FantasyFriday submission on @tsfrce

Part 1 The Winner is…

Part 2 Boston’s Best

Part 3 An Open Book

The clothes Chris offered fit, and you find a belt in the closet to cinch the waist of the jeans tight.  No red belt.  You looked, and laughed to yourself.   You smile when you see Cap’s shield peeking out behind some t-shirts.  You run your hands over them and bust out laughing.  A Pink Petunias t-shirt!  Before you become any more creepy, you leave the room, closing the door behind you.

Downstairs everyone is helping the kids with their boots, gloves and scarves.  Chris smiles at you when you come down the stairs.  Just a fan, just a fan, just a fan, you chant with every beat of your heart.  But at least it feels like you could be friends, even when this silly publicity date is over.

Chris’s brother in law chases the kids out the back door and everyone follows suit, even Lisa.  The back yard is lit up with Christmas lights, and you give Chris a questioning glance.  “She hired a company to do the lights, and liked them so much, we’ve never taken them down.  That was last Christmas.  We have them for every backyard gathering, doesn’t matter what season.  The home-owners association hates it, but she’s Captain America’s mom, so what are they gonna do?”  He hugs his mom to him and kisses the top of her head. She adjusts his scarf and pats his cheek.  He squeals like a girl, not realizing she had gathered up snow from the porch railing in her hand, depositing it on the side of his face, and she takes off running into the yard.  “And THAT is my mother,” he says, maybe as an explanation for his own behaviors.

You stand back on the porch, watching the craziness, thinking someone should be preserving this memory for the family.  You notice Chris’s youngest sister is snapping some photos on her phone, so you take his niece’s hand when she reaches for yours, leading you into the yard to help her build a snowman.  You watch as the boys all have a snowball fight and Lisa and his older sister are in the corner of the yard making snow angels.  The little girl is chattering away and you can’t understand half the things she says but she is just adorable.  She runs off to find sticks for arms as you wrap your scarf around the fat blob of a snowman.  “Perfect!  It looks just like Scott!” Chris jokes when he comes up behind you.

You stand up, turning to him and aim a giant snowball at him, but the one he threw hits you first!  You squeal in shock as the cold goes down your sweater, and you wonder how people really live in the snow and cold all the time.  But right now, you know this is the most wonderful night of your life, and you’d live forever in the cold, if this wonderful man was by your side.  “I’m gonna get you back,” you counter, as he takes off running again.

The little girl’s father comes to aid in finishing the snow man, as you chase Chris around the yard.  He disappears behind the garden shed and you wait behind a tree.  When he peeks around the corner, you pelt him with a snowball and he shakes it from his hair, laughing.

“Sorry to spoil the fun,” his older sister calls out, “but we’ve been out here a long time, and these kids are turning into Capsicles.  It’s time to go in and clean up for bed.  You crazy adults do what you want.”

From the corner of your eye you see that Scott and Chris are both advancing on you from opposite directions. Lisa calls out from the porch, “Boys! You be nice!  Don’t stay too much longer; I’ll have hot chocolate!”

You make the mistake of turning towards her and they both hit you at once, Scott closer to you, dumping snow on your head, and Chris hitting your legs with snow.  You twist to throw your snowball at him, and damn if you don’t slide again, falling over.  This time you land on Chris, taking him down with you.  He cushions your fall and lands with an “oomph” in the fallen snow.  You lay on top of him for a moment and this time you see a look of lust flash through his eyes.  You roll to the side quickly, and Scott helps pull you both upright again.  It’s almost like he can sense an awkwardness pass between you and he jogs into the house quickly.

“Sorry about that.  I guess snow boots in my part of the world aren’t really the same for here,” you laugh.

“Maybe you’re just clumsy?” he bumps you with his shoulder, and you brush the snow from his back, as you head indoors, laughing with him.

Inside the doorway, you shake off the snow, not wanting to dirty Lisa’s floors.  You glance at the kitchen clock.  “Chris, I feel like Cinderella, but I don’t know if you know, I have a curfew from the contest people. I guess someone is gonna check up on me back at the hotel at eleven…  How far away are we?  Do we need to head back into the city?”

Quizzically, you watch him.  He has an odd expression on his face.  You push your damp hair back, and feel like a mess.  Between the snow, and now sweating from the indoor heat, your hair is curling around your face, and your cheeks burn from the cold.  He just watches you as he addresses his mom, “Can you put the hot chocolate in to-go cups?  Cinderella has to get back,” he announces.

A short while later, you and Chris have said your goodbyes to his family.  You hear him promise Scott and his brother in law to stop at the store and pick up beer for the game tomorrow on his way home.  You are surprised when Lisa shares her email with you and gives you a big hug before handing you a cup of hot chocolate and a plate of cookies.  “Thanks, Mom,” you giggle.  She smiles and nods her head.  “You enjoy the rest of your weekend in town.  If the snow hits bad and you can’t get out of the hotel, you send me a message if you need anything, and I’ll send one of the boys to help.”

You are overwhelmed at her kindness and hug her tightly again.  You know you will never have this chance again so you take a deep breath and say, “I think you have an amazing son.  He’s loved by so many people around the world because of the way you raised him.  That’s really something to be proud of; he’s kind and generous and he’s been a perfect gentleman.  Thank you.”

“Oh, stop, he made it easy,” Lisa laughs as she pats your hand on her arm.

You chuckle. “No, he didn’t.  He had to have been the biggest pain growing up!  You have a wonderful family; I’m glad I got to know you all tonight.”

Lisa’s eyes shimmer with unfallen tears and you know where Chris’s beautiful eyes came from.  “Thank you, dear.  It was a pleasure meeting you!  Best of luck!”

“You ready?  The walkway is clear and safe,” Chris announces as he steps in the door, taking the hot chocolate and cookies from your hands.  “Let me carry these, clumsy.”

“Ha-ha,” you joke.

The car ride back is quiet. You dread having to say good-bye, wishing this night didn’t have to end.   Chris finds a radio station playing 80s classic rock and you both sing along, filling the car with music and laughter.  He pulls into the hotel lot and parks the car.  He walks you into the lobby and you say your lingering goodbyes.  You don’t want to draw this out because all of a sudden you feel like your heart will shatter in two.  You don’t want him to see you this way, fighting to keep tears at bay.  “Good night, Chris.”  You whisper.  “It was really nice meeting you.”

“It was nice meeting you too, Cinderella,” he says as he hugs you tightly, kissing you on the cheek.

Sadly, you watch him walk away.  Before exiting the revolving door, he stops to wave at you once more, and then he is gone.  When he is out of sight, you wipe away the tears that have escaped, and look around the lobby, thankful no one is around.

In the elevator to your room, your phone beeps and you smile at the pictures from the snowball fight his sister sent you.  She snapped a few really cute photos of you and Chris together, and you know you will cherish those forever.  You text back a quick message, thanking her and letting her know you intend to keep those private to yourself.  Don’t want to be the girl on Instagram everyone hates, you smile to yourself sadly.  You hope she also shares those pictures with Chris and that they provide him with happy memories to, of the dinner he shared with a fan, who won a contest on the radio.

True to their word, a representative of the radio station knocks on her door promptly at eleven.  The woman enters the room, and asks you a few questions about the evening.  You catch the furtive glances around the room, and you just want to ask her ‘Do you want to check behind the curtains? Look under the bed? He’s not hiding here!’  You offer her a cookie, and she turns up her nose.  You hate those kind of women.  You lock the door, take a quick shower, letting out your tears, and get ready for bed.  You dig through your bag, looking for your tablet charger when there is a knock on the door.

“What the hell, lady, you wanna check the closet too?  Damn!” you mumble as you cross to the door.  You remember proper travel safety, and think to look out the peephole.  Why are those damn things so high up on hotel doors?!  “Who is it?” you ask gruffly.

“It’s me, Chris.  Can I come in?”  You’d know his voice anywhere.  You look down at your pajamas and know your face is puffy from crying.  “Please.  I drove around forever.  I need to talk to you.”

The tone in his voice punches you in the gut.  It sounds like you feel.  You open the door to him, and he takes you in his arms, wrapping his fingers in your hair and kisses you.  Exactly the way you hoped he would…

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