Not Your Type (Chris Pine FanFic)

Conversations on the Sidewalk

Chris looked up, unblinking, at the woman that stood before him. Chelsea looked beautiful in her snug black skirt, heels and carefully tucked in white button down shirt. Her forehead was creased deeply as she scrutinized his words. "How long have you been standing there?" he whispered.

Chelsea didn't move, glancing uneasily around she said, "Pretty much the whole time I think."

Chris slowly stood. Chelsea still didn't move. Drew called out, "I don't care what you need." It was evident Drew was standing at the door shouting through it to make sure Chris heard his every word.

"You're not supposed to be here." Chelsea whispered.

"The beautiful thing about my roommate is she will forgive you. Hell, she probably already has," Drew began.

Chelsea's eyes were locked on Chris' and though she heard Drew's words, she wasn't really paying attention to them. That is, until Chris finished Drew's sentence.

"But the most beautiful thing about her is how," Drew continued, but Chris cut him off.

"How she brings out the best in people." Chris said it softly, nervously. "You may not believe me," he wasn't speaking to the air nor to Drew now, he was speaking to her. He took slow steps forward. "But she did bring out the best in me. My eyes were opened to so many things, the littlest, simplest things in life. For a few short months I honestly didn't care what others thought of me. Sure, my agent wanted me to get photographed and wanted the public's adoration, but I didn't care. What other's think doesn't matter. That vanity of Hollywood, doesn't matter. Making people happy," Chelsea hadn't moved, but Chris had. The closer he got to her, the slower he moved. His steps were careful, each silently asking permission to enter her space.

"I just wanted to apologize in person," he whispered, wanting to touch her, but he feared her reaction. "I'm so sorry. I should've told you. But Chels," she momentarily squeezed her eyes shut at the nickname, the familiarity paining her. Chris saw the the brief reaction and it stung. "I honestly think if I had told you things would be so different. It would have been like a business transaction."

"Wasn't it?" She turned quickly, facing him with fire in her eyes. He knew she'd been hurt, but he didn't expect the fiery fury he saw deep in her brown irises.

"Fuck, no."

Her eyebrows furrowed further, that language. Chris laughed, "Sorry. No, no. Maybe originally, but I swear every moment I was with you I felt guilty for how much I was enjoying it. There were thousands of moments I thought of telling you, but fear got the best of me. I didn't want to hurt you. I knew it was really postponing the inevitable, but I just couldn't do it."

Chelsea couldn't help it, she rolled her eyes.

"You can't believe me, I know. I don't know how to prove it to you. I don't deserve your trust," his voice cracked just slightly. "I just wanted you to understand that it was real. Every moment with you, every emotion, every spark of electricity was real. I am sorry for lying to you, I am sorry for hurting you. Please, don't ever think less of yourself because of this, because of me."

"Don't give yourself that much credit."

A small gasp escaped Chris' mouth, that was harsh.

"Yes, you hurt me," she stared at her feet and rubbed her hands together nervously, "and you made me feel stupid. I hate feeling stupid. But I can get over that. I will." She looked up and opened her mouth to speak but her cellphone rang. She glanced at it, then glanced at Chris.

"Oh, by all means," he said, frustrated that a phone call may be more important than him.

She answered and started to glow. Her responses were short, but her smile was long, stretched across her face.

"Thank you! I'm excited!" Her thrilled words ended the call. She looked at her phone then back up at Chris, "I'm never going to think less of myself because of you. Chris, everything has a purpose. Sometimes it's hard to see it when you're in the middle of it, but I firmly believe everything happens for a reason. And no matter how crappy it is, you have to choose to work hard and be happy about it."

Now it was Chris' turn to be confused.

"I know this doesn't make sense, but," she started to grin, "I just got offered a new job."

"What? Where?" Her excitement did make sense. Chris couldn't help but smile, she was infectious.

"Teaching."

His eyes widened. He remembered many painful conversations about her panic attacks, the dying kid, all of that. "Teaching?"

She stepped toward him, catching him off guard, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. He wavered a minute, not immediately embracing her, but it felt so right. His arms slid around her waist. Surprisingly, she kissed his cheek. "Thank you," she whispered. "If you hadn't appeared in my life, regardless of your reason, I never would've filled out this application. I was so scared, I still am. But no matter, I'm going back. It's your fault." She let go of his neck, but he didn't let go of her waist, "Thank you."

Chris didn't know what to say, this wasn't what he was expecting. "You're welcome?"

She laughed at how he said it. "You can let go now."

"No," he whispered.

"Chris, it's ok. I'm ok. I appreciate all the kind things you said. I'm not mad anymore, I'm not. But I'm also not delusional. I know I'm not your type. Let's be real and avoid more heartache, it wouldn't work out."

She was so calm about it, it was almost frustrating.

"But, were you not listening to anything I was saying?" He loosened his grip on her waist and she stepped back. He reached into his pocked where the white envelope was, he really wanted to give it to her.

"Yes, Chris. I was. It was sweet, and I feel," she stopped herself. The job offer made her far to happy too admit her love for Chris. This needed to be quick and painless, like a band-aid. This closure would be nice.

A car horn honked. Chris had lost track of time. He had to go back to LAX and back to Europe. Chelsea turned and saw the taxi. "Let's go man, traffic is a bitch, if you're going to make that flight we gotta leave now."

Chelsea's eyes widened. "You flew across the Atlantic for an hour of my time?" She was dumbfounded.

"Perhaps that will make you believe me."

"Come on, let's go!" The driver yelled.

"Chris, I, I don't know what to say." She felt a little silly, but she had to stay smart about this.

"I do. I love you, Chelsea Garcia," he grabbed a hold of her hands. "Believe me or not, it's true. I love you so much I took a coach flight across the Atlantic Ocean and the United States of America just to tell you how sorry I am. I'm sorry I hurt you. And to tell you how much I miss you. I miss you terribly. I just want to be able to call you, text you, be with you. I came here to tell you I love you because you're not my type. You bring out this other amazing side of myself I didn't know existed."

"Lover boy, let's go!"

Chris forcefully grabbed the back of her head and kissed her, not giving her time to fight it. Then he slid the envelope into her hand.

"See you soon." And he ran into the cab, leaving Chelsea touching her lips and wondering what was in the envelope.