#ransom drysadale

[speechlessxx]

In The Rain. (Chris Evans x Reader)

Summary: Can a classic case of miscommunication be solved before the rain puts out the flickering light of love? 

Warnings: trash. lmao. this is better than my radio silence, so... lol... fluffy, angsty (you know the drill)

Word Count: ~2k

The lights flickered for only a second when the bright streaks that painted the sky were followed by deafening claps of thunder that shook your house. The rain was heavy as it pounded against the windows and the harsh winds were no kinder, but they were nothing compared to storm brewing within you.

A deep sigh escaped you as the blanket around your shoulders slipped off and pooled around your waist. You had a warm coffee in one hand and a book in the other while you sat at your reading nook watching the dark sky. It was a collection of poetry with several multicolored Post-It flags sticking out from its pages. Each color represented a feeling a poem elicited, and you found yourself flipping to those with a dark blue flag – the color of sorrow, heartbreak, sadness. In all honesty, it was self-pity.

You weren’t sure why you lingered for so long. Nothing but history and memories were keeping you in his life. The amicable breakup left you detached yet still attached to him. And what made everything worse was that you were still in love with Chris.

The breakup shocked those closest to you. You and Chris were – well … – the most unsuspecting perfect match. You were two completely different souls that balanced one another out. You complemented one another – hell, you completed each other. You were two independent entities that pushed the other to become a better version of themselves. The energy shared between you was radiant and the love was consuming. It was pure and unfiltered. Passionate. You weren’t one to believe in true love – in soulmates, or even twin flames – but then you met Chris and everything changed.

But like all matches – like all flames – they burn out.

You blamed it on anxiety – on expectations. You never had a long-lasting relationship. Chris was the first man you ever felt a true connection to – and that scared you more than you let on.

He was nearing 40 – the ripe age to settle down, to have a family. Although you were certain you wanted that with Chris, you weren’t sure if you wanted that now. Your reluctance had you absentmindedly push him away. You began to untether yourself to him. Untangling the beautiful, strong bond you once had until it was nothing but a single thread.

Although it was you that started to pull away, it was Chris who vocalized his unhappiness. It was Chris who instigated. The night you broke up, he refused to listen to your worries and your reasons for your sudden aloofness. “Do you even love me?” He asked you, but he didn’t wait for a response. You already blamed yourself – and it hurt twice as much when he blamed you, too.

It shocked you when you found out he told friends and family the breakup was mutual… because it was Chris who severed it … The supposedly mutual breakup kept an open door of communication for your families. While your family never bothered Chris or his kin, Scott constantly reached out to you, as well as his mother. They’d often invite you to house parties, dinners, karaoke nights… When you’d decline – finding it was a bit of a territory breach – they’d always claim Chris wouldn’t make an appearance but he always did.

Although you were broken up, you were forced to remain friends. You were forced to look at him across a dining table as if you didn’t know his deepest secrets. You spoke casually as if you never spent late nights unburdening your souls to one another. You acted as if you were friends that were never completely in love with each other.

You remembered the phone call from Scott this morning. He relayed a message from their mom, asking you to come to dinner. When you declined, Scott demanded for a reasonable answer. He often found, “I’m your brother’s ex-girlfriend” a useless excuse.

“I still love him, and it hurts because we’re pretending like we were never together.” Your voice broke. “I’m trying to pull away – trying to move on – but I don’t know if it’s me holding onto hope, or if it’s just....” You couldn’t finish your words – you weren’t sure how to. You felt guilty for confessing this to Chris’s brother of all people. You knew it wouldn’t confidential – that he’d tell Chris – but you just had to say it out loud once.

You heard Scott sigh over the phone. Taking pity on you, he decided it was probably best that you kept your distance from Chris – which was the opposite of the goal of him constantly inviting you out. “A storm’s coming tonight,” he mentioned. “And I know how rain helps calm you.”

But it did anything but that.

-=+=-

Chris had some idea of where it went wrong. The night it all ended, he blamed you. He knew he was in the wrong for that.

The night of his outburst haunted his memories, keeping him up all hours of the night. The image of your tearstained cheeks, reddened eyes, and pure heartbroken expression was burned into his mind. He saw it every time he closed his eyes. He remembered how you barely got a word in because every time you opened your mouth to speak, to reason, to argue, he spoke over you with such a heated, rage-filled tone that he didn’t even recognize.

He was afraid to lose you and because of his own arrogance and stubbornness, that’s exactly what happened.

You were unraveling your bond slowly, tactfully while he tore it to shreds.

And he regretted it every single day.

“Is (Y/N) coming?” He asked as subtly as he could while he and Scott set the table. Scott simply shook his head. Chris placed a plate onto the placemat as thunder shook the house, the glasses rattling slightly. “Do you know what she’s doing tonight?” He asked, trying to stay casual though everyone saw right through it. Scott’s brows were furrowed as if contemplating and his mouth was pressed into a firm line. Knowing him for all his life, Chris knew when his brother was hiding something. “Scott.”

“I can’t tell you!” Scott finally answered. That answer pulled at Chris’s heart – were you with someone? Is that why you weren’t here? “She’s just… she just needs a night.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chris frowned. An upside to this “amicable” breakup was having his family constantly pull you back into their atmosphere. He wasn’t sure if they did it for him (they did), but he was thankful for all the nights you walked into their family home, gracing him with your presence even if you barely spoke. His brother remained silent and Chris called his name again.

“She’s just upset, okay?” Scott revealed. Chris’s frown deepened as he cocked his head to the side in confusion. “She just needs some time to think and heal.”

“What does that mean?”

Scott sighed. “I can’t tell you. She told me not to – Chris… do you plan on getting back together with (Y/N)?”

“Of course.” Chris answered with no hesitation. “I love her.”

“Then, why’d you break up with her?” Scott asked.

The question caught him off guard. Of course, he planned his apology. He planned his dramatic way to woo you back into his arms – to make you fall in love with him again. He didn’t quite know how to execute it – should he have been a cliché with a boombox, calling your name outside your window?

“I… I guess I felt like she was pulling away… and so, I felt like I had to beat her to the punch,” Chris cringed. It was a childish sentiment… But perhaps it was because his ego couldn’t take being broken up with? Or perhaps the thought of losing you clouded his judgement so much and consequently, his fears came true.

Scott scoffed at his brother, rolling his eyes for effect. “You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah and I feel bad about it, but every time I try to talk to her, she closes up.”

“I wonder why.” Chris groaned annoyedly at his younger brother, slapping the palm of his hand to his forehead. “She told me before that she felt as if she didn’t belong with you because you’re ready to start a family and she wasn’t.”

“When she say that?”

“A while ago…” Scott scratched his chin.

“But I don’t… I don’t need a family right this second. I just need her.”

“Does she know that?” Scott asked him. “Because all she knows is that you had enough of her.”

“I didn’t really give her a chance to talk…” Chris confessed. “I just… I kinda just ranted at her.”

Scott sighed disappointedly. “In all honestly, brother, I think you need to have an actual conversation with her… Not just a I’m-gonna-yell-at-you …”

Lightning flashed through the windows as the rain steadily poured. It didn’t look as if it were going to let up any time soon. Chris glanced at the clock. It was early into the evening – if it hadn’t been storming, then the sun would be painting the sky a beautiful orange sunset. Instead it was dark, gloomy – uncertain like your future.

Without much contemplation, Chris rushed out of the dining room, cutting through the kitchen. His mother gasped when he barged through the doors and walked to towards the front. “What are you doing?” She called after him. “Dinner’s almost ready!”

“I’m getting my girlfriend back,” Chris told her. His mother’s worried expression melted into one of pride as she cupped her chest with her hand and gave him an encouraging smile.

“Go get ‘er.”

“Love you, ma,” Chris called before walking out the door and braving through the storm.

-=+=-

The doorbell startled you from your nap. You hadn’t even realized you began to drift to sleep. With little regard about your appearance, you drudged towards the front door, wondering who could be at your house at this hour – especially with a storm like this.

“Chris?” You gasped, eyes widening as your ex-boyfriend was shivering from the rain. He was drenched, standing at your front porch. “Why are you here in the rain?”

“We need to talk.” You felt the blood leave your face. The last time he said those words to you, he left you crying and heartbroken. Thunder rumbled as you stared at him. “Scott told me.”

“Of course he did,” you rolled your eyes with frustration. “Chris, I don’t want to talk –“ You tried to close the door, but he easily overpowered you, keeping it open.

“No, we need to talk about this,” Chris snapped before sighing. “(Y/N),” you always loved the way he said your name. “I don’t want a family right now… I just want you… I just need you.”

You stared at him. Chris was never one to lie. He was terrible at it. His eyes always gave him away. Much like they did tonight when they revealed he was being truthful.

“I’m sorry,” he told you. “I’m sorry I’m an asshole that night. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you – that I didn’t even try to listen.” He paused, waiting for you to butt in, but you never did. You just stared at him in silence as you processed. “You’re the only one I want to be with… and I understand if that’s not what you want… You can close the door and we’ll pretend this never happened. We can go back to whatever we were… But I’m not going to ignore this.” When you remained silent, he said, “please, please say something.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t truthful,” you finally said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about me doubting myself – that I started to push you away because I was afraid of what a serious relationship with you meant…”

He took a step towards you, hands reaching for you. One hand found its home at your waist, the other cupping your cheek. “It’s not your fault…” He said. “I love you and I always will. Please, take me back.”

“I love you, Chris,” you muttered before your hands wrapped around his neck to pull him towards your lips.