Sebastian Stan Short Stories

Sebastian Stan [8]

"Early Bird"
*
Seb was an early riser when he put his mind to it. He would happily, eagerly lounge in bed all day and watch movie after movie with me, but years of getting up at the crack of dawn for various films and TV shows had him well trained.

I could feel him nudging at my shoulder gently, but I could feel my mind and body begging for more sleep.

"Hey, sleepy head. Come on, wake up," he whispered. I could feel his breath on my face, and it smelled like coffee. "I've got a surprise for you."

"Surprises can wait for hours with two digits," I bargained. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and rooted my face into my pillow.

"Not this one," he countered. I opened my eyes when he kissed my cheek, his eyelashes and scruffy facial hair brushing against my skin.

"Okay, okay. I'm coming," I groaned. He broke into a smile I couldn't help but love. Once I was out of bed he handed me one of his sweaters and a pair of thick, mismatched socks. I wasn't awake enough to form a coherent question, so he read my mind.

"It's a little chilly outside," he explained as I put the borrowed clothes on.

"Outside? Seb, I'm not decent," I told him. I gestured down at my outfit: leggings, fluffy socks, sweater, and a serious case of bed head. "I need a shower first if we're going outside. I need to look presentable."

"No one else is going to see us except us," he assured me. I pulled my fingers through my hair to try and managed the fluff, but I only succeeded in pulling more than a few sizable knots out of my scalp.

"Do I need shoes?" I checked.

"Nope," he answered. "You might want your house shoes though."

"House shoes are still shoes," I informed him while sliding on my slippers.

"Whatever you say," he agreed with a chuckle. He took my hand once I was semi-fully dressed and led me out of our bedroom. As we walked (well, I sort of trudged) past the kitchen I smelled cinnamon and chocolate and saw dirty dishes in the sink. I peeked up immediately when I realized my personal dork had something planned. He looked over his shoulder at me, and I picked up the pace so I could catch up with him. I arranged myself under his arm, and he leaned down to kiss my forehead.

We left our apartment and walked through the hall past only a few other doors. Seb led me past the elevators, and that made me slow down just a bit.

"Where are we going?" I asked. We never lost physical contact with one another as I fell out of pace; he just held my hand with his arm outstretched.

"To the stairwell," he answered. Well, that made perfect sense and answered all of my follow up questions. Not.

But I followed him anyway. My Sebastian, dressed similar enough for it to be kind of funny and very endearing. There were holes in the hem of his sweater, but it was one of his favorites because it was a tad pricey and he had bought with money from his first real, paid job as an actor. His sweatpants had seen better days, evident in the paint splattered across the left leg from when we had painted our bedroom together. His socks matched mine perfectly; he wore the same mismatched pair I was wearing. Top it all off with his three or four days' worth of stubble, and it was amazing I hadn't hauled him back to our apartment.

We ambled up a single flight of stairs before Seb had to pull a key of his pants pocket. He unlocked the door at the top of the narrow staircase and opened it onto the roof. A cold breeze blew through the doorway, but it only made my cheeks a little pink.

"Since when do we have roof access?" I asked. It was still dark outside, but the sun was starting to turn the eastern sky a shade of indigo instead of black.

"Since I asked the property manager for a key a couple days ago," he said simply. He led me to very center of the roof and proudly presented his surprise.

Sleeping bags from our ill-advised outdoorsy phase had been laid down on the rooftop, and an unimaginable number of blankets and pillows had been arranged on top of them. There were a few battery-powered candles on of the periphery, and cut wildflowers were laid out nearby. There was a cooler set out too, and I could smell the lingering scent of chocolate again.

"Come on. Sit down," Seb urged, tugging me gently by both hands. "Watch the sunrise with me."

I was entirely speechless. He loved making grand gestures. Five star dinners at a rented out restaurant. First class seats on surprise vacations. This was something else though, and I followed him to the cozy little nest he had set up. He pulled me right up next to him and draped a blanket around our shoulders. He opened the cooler and began to unpack breakfast after handing me a thermos full of hot chocolate. Pancakes and French toast and fresh fruit were laid out for us, and Seb smiled all the while.

We ate and watched the sunrise silently. He couldn't have picked a better morning to come to the rooftop. One moment the sky was a striving lilac color, and the next moment it had exploded into oranges and reds. He held my hand, and I swear he watched me more than the sky.

"So how many favors did you have to call in to get all these blankets and stuff?" I asked. "God knows we don't have this many pillows."

"A lot of favors. I've been stockpiling them for days," he confessed. "I also had to promise to wash all of them before I returned them."

"I appreciate it, all those favors and all that work," I told him. "This is great, Seb."

He was silent for a moment and then turned away from me and dug through a very specific arrangement of pillows and blankets. When he faced me again, he was holding a little black box very carefully in both hands. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yes," he confirmed shyly.

"Yes," I repeated, already answering his question. He laughed anxiously and held my hand. My left hand.

"I have to ask first," he reminded me.

"Then ask so I can say yes," I urged. He opened the box, but I wasn't even looking. I was staring at him.

"Will you marry me?"

"Yes," I said again. It came out as a whisper as he fumbles to get the ring from jeweler's box to my finger. As soon as I could, I wrapped my arms around him, and we fell back into the blanket nest. We didn't kiss though; we just laughed quietly and smiled like the love struck fools we were. "Why now? I'm curious."

"I almost didn't," he admitted. "Then you said how much you appreciated the work, and I knew it was the right time."

"It was perfect. It was amazing. I want to tell this story for years, to anyone who will listen," I rambled.

"And no pictures for you to fuss over later, my wonderful fiancée with your wonderful bed head," he teased.

"That just makes it more special," I said, ignoring his playful jab. He hadn't stopped smiling since the first 'yes' I said. "It's all ours."

*

Author's Note:

What can I say? I got inspired. I apologize if the formatting seems a little weird; I typed this entirely on my phone, and I'm not sure how that will translate.

Thanks for all the great comments on the last few parts! Hope you enjoy the update!