Pedro Pascal Imagines

Love Language- Pedro Pascal

"And there's no possible way he's like totally in love with you?"

Flora spun around in your office chair, watching you doll up in your vanity mirror.

"No he isn't Flora. I swear. He's just like that." You shrugged, looking through the mirror at her, stopping the makeup brush in your hands.

"There is no way he's just 'like that.' I see the way he looks at you." She air quoted with a breathy laugh, rolling her eyes.

"I have seen him treat all of his friends that way. He's just a very affectionate person. With the way he behaves around Oscar you'd think he's full blown gay Flora." You raised your eyebrows at her, giving her a fake stoney face before turning back to your reflection in the mirror.

"So this is not a date?"

"No it's not."

"Okay, so tell me how a text message saying 'be ready at 5:30. picking you up, it's surprise. Also bring pjs.' is not insinuating a date?"

"Because I probably have five other text messages that are exactly like that!" You gawfawed in shock, setting the makeup brush down and spinning around in your chair to look at her.

"Dude swear to god he does this stuff all the time. I literally went to dinner with him and we had a sleepover like five days ago. I've known him since we were kids Flora."

"So what if this is a date and you're just in denial?" She looked up from picking at her fingernails, a smirk on her face matched with a raised eyebrow.

"There's no denial to be in." You huffed, turning to look back at the mirror. "He doesn't do that kind of stuff. He's not a relationship guy." The last sentence came out with a defeated sigh.

You'd thought in childhood, and growing up, something would blossom from your close relationship with Pedro. Your mother even put bets on it every time he was your "date" to school dances and even prom. She almost encouraged you to sneak off with him and be a promiscuous teenager. But it just never came. He moved forward in life with his acting career. He was coming to you for advice when his love life seemed to fail, and when he finally denounced dating all together.

Sure it brought false hope and deepened confusion when he'd kiss you on the head, and interlock your pinkies in public, just shy of actually holding hands. Or as you got older he'd have you stay the night in his bed with him, cuddled up and watching tv while you played with each others fingers or hair. Staying up far past your bedtime to talk about every meaning of life. Love, death, happiness, sadness, goals and aspirations. Hell, you knew each other like a book. Cover to cover there was not one thing you didn't know about Pedro Pascal.

And that's exactly why you knew that this was all it would ever be.

Your phone vibrated against the table top of your vanity, an incoming facetime call from the one and only.

"Speak of the devil." You muttered, answering the call and propping your phone up.

"Hola preciosa!" He greeted happily, throwing his hand up in the air.

"Hi mi Pedrito." You gushed, smiling back at him.

"See? Exactly what I was saying." Flora grumbled, rolling her eyes and spinning in the chair.

"Uh oh, we have company." Pedro laughed through the phone.

"Just Flora, no one special." You heard her gasp from behind you, laughing and moving out of frame on the screen so Pedro could see her.

"Hello miss Flora." He nodded, waving at her.

"Hello Pedro." She waved back with a chuckle.

"So, mi amor, what are you wearing tonight?" He scratched the scruff on his face.