When He Calls Us Home | Chris Evans FF ✓

CAPTAIN AMERICA

ADELINE would have been extremely excited to have met one of Hollywood's best actors, that is, if she wasn't in such a frazzled, and messy state. There she was in coffee stained clothing, and probably smelt like a caffeine machine. The ends of her hair crusted, the side of her cheek, and collar bone felt sticky, along with her hands, and her torso felt cool, and wet now that the air had hit her blouse.

The two sat in an uncomfortable silence. Chris was debating on saying something, maybe, how's the weather? Or where were you headed?

Adeline's mouth moved for words, but her lips had bobbed closed like a fish. Her eyes, all of a sudden, captured a funny scene across from where they sat.

A mother and her son stood on the sidelines waiting for the next train to arrive. The mother chatted away on her phone, smiled, and occasionally laughed. Adeline shifted her view point to the little eight year old boy. Her brows connected quizzically.

A smirk gradually grew atop Adeline's lip. The boy seemed tired, and bored. He tapped a foot to the ground, and impatiently cranked his head up to his mother, then looked off in the distance—brows knitted in frustration.

Unexpectedly, and without warning, her son tore his hand from his mother's, and raced off in the opposite direction. Immediately the mother snapped her head to her wild child, then quickly muttered something before she hung up, and bolted after her son.

A string of laughter came out of Adeline, and at the same time, she was startled to have heard Chris laugh next to her. It appeared he had been observing the same scene, at the same time she was.

Her small laugh turned into a cough. She rolled her shoulders inward, and gazed at the ground again. "It's, nice, to meet you?" she said, hesitation in her tone rippled into what sounded like a question, rather than a genuine remark. Her eyes stayed glued to the floor the whole time.

The journalist had missed the small glimmer of amusement in Chris's eyes, as he angled his perception to look at her; a tiny smirk elevated to his mouth at the same time. "Ya, same to you too." Chris squashed his chocolate eyebrows together. Ya, same to you too? he thought miserably, and lifted his eyebrows, blinked, and thought of a better response. "So, uh, where were you, um, headed?" he asked, and did an unnecessary clear of his throat.

Fiddling with the soggy coffee cup in his hand, he finally threw the item in a trash bin next to the bench.

"To work, you?" she said, pinning her gaze on him, and watching as he threw away her coffee cup.

"Home actually." Chris blurted out, then gradually released a breath. He had trouble with asking his next question. "Do you mind if I buy you another coffee—I feel terrible," he said, seeing as Adeline perked her head up to object.

"Oh, you really don't have to. I'm," she paused, looked to the ground in a retreat, "I'm really just mulling over my day. Wondering if I should just go back to my apartment and change, cancel my interview, or just call in sick. But I probably can't offered to do the last option."

Chris chuckled. "How 'bout I buy you a coffee in a coffee shop? Can you spare five minutes?"

"You feel that bad?"

"You have no idea."

"I'm guessing this is the first time this has happened to you?" Chris' cheeks burned in clear shame as he shook his head. "Well," Adeline dragged, and finally gazed up at him, but looked away at her wristwatch. "I, suppose I can reschedule my interview."

____

    "I'm Adeline, by the way. Adeline Banks." She introduced, thinking back and realizing she never gave an introduction of herself to Chris.