Not Your Type (Chris Pine FanFic)

Chris

Chris held the shattered frame in his hand as he sat, straddling the woman from the photo. Chelsea was exquisite in the photo. Her smile lit up the room. The lace gown fit her body perfectly, hugging her in all the right places and accentuating her curves. On the curve of her waist was the man's hand. He was leaning over, it looked like he was whispering something in her ear. A lover's secret of some sort. She was laughing and looking directly at the camera.

He looked down at the woman under him. Her hair was fanned out behind her head, her eyes filled with equal parts worry and sadness. Her milky white skin red along her collarbone where he had started to forcefully kiss. She was breathing quickly. He glanced at her chest, still hidden behind the black, lacy push-up bra.

"You're not divorced." Carefully, he put the picture back on the table. Chelsea pulled herself upright and shook her head. "Are you married?"

Her breathing was slowing, he could tell by the rising and falling of her chest. "Yes." He winced. "And no..." She looked down at her lap and began to pull at the blanket on the bed.

"What does that mean?" He knew sounded angry, but that was not how he felt. Chelsea wouldn't look at him. "I'm not angry, I just..." He stopped talking when he saw the hurt in her eyes. "I'm not angry," he whispered, leaning over her and taking her face in his hands, "Just tell me the truth." He ached as he watched her eyes fill with tears. She turned her head away and a tear fell down her cheek. Chris caught it.

"I'm sorry," she whispered as she wiggled out from underneath him. She sat up reaching up to cover her face, but he stopped her.

"Why are you apologizing?"

"For not telling you, for killing the mood."

He couldn't help but laugh at her statement. Wrapping his arms around her,   holding her close against his chest. He kissed the top of her head and sighed.

"I'm sorry." Chelsea whispered.

"Stop apologizing." He squeezed her. "You don't have to tell me. But just lay here, like this. I don't want you to cry. I don't want you to hurt."

He felt her smile, "It's awfully hard to cry and hurt in this position." She kissed his chest. "If you want to know, I'll tell you. But it will hurt and I will cry, it just happens."

Out of curiosity, Chris agreed. He watched as Chelsea went to the closet, in only her jeans and bra, and brought a box. Unaware of the time, he listened as she told him a very brief story of her husband. Chris looked at the trinkets, ticketstubs and pictures in the box as she talked. He pulled a ring box out.

"I used to wear that around my neck. My little talisman." She whispered as he snapped the box shut. Placing it back in the box he noticed an envelope with her name on it, he didn't reach for it, it looked too personal.

"What happened?" Chris wasn't prepared for the answer. He listened and watched as she told him about the tornado, the hospital in San Antonio, and about planning a funeral. He watched as she pulled the envelope out of the box and traced her name with her finger. Her eyes welled up again, but she fought it. He could see her swallow hard. It was killing him, to see this woman hurting the way she was.

"You miss him?"

Chelsea hesitated. "I will always miss him. But sometimes, I find myself forgetting him." She turned her wrist over and looked at her tattoo. "That's why I got these. I don't want to forget. He deserves to be remembered. He was incredible. You would've liked him. He was smart, used crossword puzzle words." Through her tears she smiled at Chris. "And he was funny..."

Chris pulled her into his arms again. "I wish I knew what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. This is perfect." She softly moved her fingers back and forth on his back.

"I hate that you hurt. If there was a way I could take it all away, make it stop, I would. Watching someone you love ache, hurt, and cry is so painful. If this is what you need, I will hold you all day." He squeezed her, her fingers stopped moving.

"What did you say?" She whispered, timidly. She was frozen.

What did I say? His mind raced. "That I hate to see you hurt, seeing someone," he stopped, realizing what he'd said. It had slipped out. Sure, he'd thought about it at the party when talking to Zach, but he hadn't been sure about it. Here he was, wanting to make her feel better, wanting to take care of her, and it just naturally slipped out. His voiced deepened, he leaned back so he was looking at her, "It aches, seeing someone you love in so much pain. I wish..." His sentence faded away as he looked at her, that little sparkle in her eye he'd seen playing football, at the flea market when he walked up behind his mother, when he brought her coffee, when he kissed her in the kitchen, glimmering at him. He sighed, "It's crazy, I haven't known you long at all. But," he pushed her hair behind her ear and lightly traced her scar. "I have fallen for you. I want to make you happy. I do not want to hurt you." His stomach flipped and flopped and Chris smiled. He leaned down and, just before kissing her, whispered, "I love you."