Sebastian Stan Short Stories

Sebastian Stan [5]

"Coming Up Roses"

Present day, fiction

*

"You know I would be there if I could," Sebastian told me through my phone. I adjusted it between my shoulder and my ear so I could hear him better and hold my bags of groceries.

"I do know that. And you know I understand why you can't be here," I reminded him. "You're filming. I get it."

"But it's our first big anniversary," he groaned. He had been beating himself up over missing our one year anniversary ever since he found out his filming schedule would take him out of the country for a good two months.

"And we'll make up for it when you get home," I hinted. He caught the flirtatious edge in my voice. "Would you rather travel for this anniversary or stay in the city?"

He hummed a thoughtful tone as I maneuvered my groceries into one arm so I could enter the front door's security code.

"If there's a plane ride involved, I'd rather not. We've been flying so much for this movie. But I do think we should do something special and get out of the city," he suggested.

"I bet I can think of something that fits your demands," I teased. The front door shut behind me, and I groaned out loud when I passed the elevator. There was still a note from the property manager telling residents it was broken.

"What's wrong?" Seb asked.

"The elevator is still broken down," I told him. "You know, I love your loft. I really do, but I loved it a lot more before it became a seven-story walk up."

"Me too," he muttered quietly. I almost didn't catch it, but he explained himself before I could question him. "It broke a couple months before you moved in. It was a pain then too."

"You'll have to excuse me if I start wheezing," I warned him. He laughed through the phone, and I missed him even more. "Don is trying to kill me, by the way."

"I promise he's not," Seb repeated sweetly, still laughing.

"Today's workout didn't suck as much as the past two weeks. I think I'm getting a little more accustomed to them," I said proudly. I started up the second flight of stairs, without panting.

"Does that mean you're enjoying it?" he asked hopefully. He had been the one to refer me to Don. As a graphics specialist, I spent far too much time sitting in a chair. I needed a good trainer or workout partner to keep me going to the gym.

"I will only admit that it isn't horrible," I conceded. "I can tell I'm in much better shape though. So, that's good."

We continued chatting as I continued to climbing the stairs. He was enjoying his time traveling almost constantly for an upcoming action thriller, and I regaled him with tales of special effects and creative disputes. By the time I made it to the door of our shared apartment, I was admittedly somewhat out of breath. Seb teased me, of course, but kindheartedly.

"I really can't wait to have you home. My back is killing me, and I'm dying for a massage," I told him.

"I'll owe you one," he agreed eagerly. I turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open. I nearly dropped the bags in my hands when I saw the inside of the apartment.

Nearly every flat surface held a vase of flowers. The coffee table was covered in irises and gladiola. Each end table had a matching set of deep scarlet roses with stripes of paler pink. The dining room table was almost a jungle; I spotted a fern amongst the blossoms.  There were wildflowers and greenhouse blooms everywhere I looked.

"Sebastian, did you do this?" I asked. It came out a whisper. I sat the groceries in the floor and began walking through the apartment, inspecting the vases.

"Do what?" he said flirtatiously. He knew exactly what I meant. "Do you like it?"

"I do," I mumbled. I was too distracted reading the cards attached to each vase. They were all written in his handwriting, as if he'd been planning this for a while. Some simply said how much he missed me, and others were inside jokes from months past. I even came across one in what I assumed was Romanian. I would have to ask him what it said. "How did these get in here? Who let a florist in?"

My phone chirped in my hand, and I saw our call had been disconnected.

"I did."

I turned around to see Sebastian walking out of our bedroom with a small bouquet of delphiniums in his hands. I couldn't speak as I crossed the room. He held the flowers out of the way so I could hug him. We held each other and didn't let go for some time.

"You're supposed to be in Istanbul," I told him.

"I convinced the director and producers to rearrange the schedule so I could come home for about a week," he explained. We loosened our grip on each other just enough to meet for a kiss. When we finally came up for air, neither of us could hide our smiles. "I'm glad I came home."

"I am too."

*

Author's Note:

In honor of Wattpad being mean to me, I decided to write up one of the ideas I had a couple weeks ago.