*a Chris Evans ficlet*
15 Minute Writing Challenge
Chris Evans x Reader
Warnings: Language, Fluff
Word Count: 537
Fuck! Why does it have to be raining? I hurry from the office building to my car, trying to balance the box of files and my coffee cup as I struggle to find the right key. I balance the cup on top of the car, precariously, chanting, “Don’t fall. Don’t fall.” Just as I hear a loud clap of thunder and the downpour really lets lose, the bottom of the box falls out, spilling papers into the deep puddles. Slamming my fist against the window in irritation the travel mug topples over, spilling down the front of my blouse, adding a stain to my already soaked clothes.
“Fucking shit!” I yell at the empty parking lot, bending to pick up my papers, angrily throwing them into the back seat.
The sound of footsteps splashing through the water catches my attention. I look up to a handsome stranger running across the lot, the polka dotted umbrella bouncing over his head. The tall man and the feminine accessory bring a smile to my face. “Hey,” he shouts as he moves closer, “Let me help with that.”
“Thanks,” I say, genuinely relieved for an ounce of compassion.
“No problem. Bad day?” he asks, his voice a low rumble that instantly warms my body, cold from the unexpected spring rain.
“Sure, Captain Obvious. My plan was to get soaked, spill my coffee and ruin a week’s worth of work. Oh, and I got dumped yesterday. So there’s that too.”
“So, really bad day,” he chuckles.
I look up into the bluest, kindest eyes I have ever seen. My heart flutters. “Shit. I’m sorry. That was rude.”
From his crouched position next to me, he reaches to grab a file beginning to float away. “No problem. Sounds like you’ve earned the right to an outburst.”
I shake my head, “Yea, I guess so, but that doesn’t give me the right to be rude.”
“Is it ruined? All your work?”
I shrug my shoulders. “I won’t know until it’s dried out. I can always reprint it. I’ve got nothing better to do Saturday night,” I scoff.
“Right. Dumped. That sucks.”
“Eh, he was a dick. I shoulda left a long time ago.”
He laughs again and I swear he brushes his hand against mine on purpose. Electricity crackles through my skin, like a live wire in the puddle, shocking me. “Well, it looks like we got it all. I saw you through my brother’s apartment window… You in a rush? How about we get you dry? Find a clean shirt? A fresh cup of coffee?”
We rise to stand and I shake the water from my pixie cut. I avoid glancing down, knowing my white blouse is clinging to my body. Great. I hope the invitation means he likes what he sees.
I look him over in his sweats and hoodie. Not your average sweats. Fila. Too expensive to be unemployed sitting home in the middle of the day. Nice enough guy to leave his comfortable dry spot to come to my rescue…. “Why would you help me? I don’t even know you.”
The smile on his face grows showing perfect gleaming white teeth.
“Because you don’t even know me… Come on,” he says, reaching for my hand. “I’m Chris.”
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