summer in the city 「 s.stan 」

DAY 17

— AUGUST 17TH —

Finally, Sebastian had come to his senses. He'd decided that, no matter how difficult it was going to be, he had to start distancing himself from you. With a bit of luck and some careful timing, he thought that maybe you wouldn't even notice. Maybe you wouldn't even care.

Needless to say, he was wrong.

It had been hours since both of you had woken up and, once again, things were painfully uncomfortable. Clearly, there was a conflict of interest; you wanted to spend more time with Sebastian, while he seemed to be avoiding you at all costs. If you entered a room, he would exit. If you spoke to him, he would give you a short, simple answer and a fake smile as he briskly walked away.

Already growing restless and upset, you called Allie, needing a distraction. But, to your mild annoyance, she insisted that she wouldn't be spending any time with you until you'd managed to resolve things with Sebastian. And then she'd instructed Sophia and Luca to deploy the same brutal tactics.

You knew they only wanted you to be happy – and besides, they were right. Time wasn't on your side and, unless you wanted the summer to end this way, you had to do something about it. So, although confrontation had never been your strong point, you forced yourself to come up with a game plan.

Your plan came into action when you heard Sebastian take a phone call that evening. Judging by the volume of his voice, you guessed that he was pacing around the living room. Perfect.

Slyly dashing downstairs, you slipped through the door when his back was turned, before plopping down onto the couch and grabbing the television remote in an attempt to look more natural.

Sebastian hadn't heard you enter; when he spun around and spotted you, he jumped and yelped in alarm. You raised your eyebrows at him, trying not to laugh at his startled reaction.

"Yeah, I'm good," he muttered into the phone, evidently explaining his sudden outburst, "I just tripped over something. Hey, uh, could we talk about this later? I– yeah, sure, tomorrow is fine. Okay, thanks, bye."

Seconds later, he was sitting next to you, resting a hand on your knee despite the voice in his head telling him to go, leave her alone, get over her.

Five minutes won't hurt, he reasoned with himself, even though he knew that five minutes would turn into ten minutes, and then an hour, and then the whole day, and he'd end up even more hooked than he already was.

Pushing the thoughts away, he shifted slightly, glancing at you as his thigh brushed against yours.

"Didn't see you walk in," he huffed, playfully rolling his eyes. "Scared me when I looked over at you."

"Wow, thanks. I didn't think I looked that bad," you joked defensively, taking mock offence to his words.

"Oh, shush, you know you look beautiful."

And there it was; forget five minutes, he'd already let himself slip after barely five seconds. The way you grinned at the compliment only made things worse – he almost felt as if he was playing you, setting you up to get your heart broken.

Maybe he was. But not intentionally.

Flustered, Sebastian blinked slowly, trying to clear his head. In his momentarily distracted state, he hadn't noticed that you were quickly scrolling through the selection of movies on Disney+, scanning the list until you found what you were looking for.

"Y/N, no," he groaned, watching you hit play on Captain America: The Winter Soldier. "I'm in this movie."

"Yeah, no shit," you smirked, "that's exactly why I wanna watch it. The metal arm is hot. And so is Chris Evans."

Your smirk grew wider as you saw Sebastian clench his jaw, a clear sign of jealousy over your comment about his friend. By now, he'd given up on staying away from you, at least for one more day.

Sighing, he moved closer to you yet again, relaxing when you rested your head on his shoulder, practically overjoyed that your plan seemed to be working. He moved his hand from your knee to your waist, his fingers delicately brushing over the strip of bare skin that was showing where your t-shirt had ridden up slightly. The contact sent tingles down your spine, as if it was the first time you'd ever felt his touch.

As the sun began to set outside, the two of you remained on the couch together, peacefully watching the movie. Occasionally, you'd pitch in with humorous comments and remarks about what was happening onscreen, which Sebastian was glad for – he hated watching his own work, but he'd do it for you. You made it bearable, at least.

Towards the end of the film, as Steve Rogers plummeted into a body of water, only to be saved by the Winter Soldier, you decided to take a slight risk. Slowly, you curled your legs up and lowered yourself until your head was resting comfortably in Sebastian's lap.

For a moment, as you gazed up at him, he looked conflicted – pained, even. But soon, his expression morphed into one of endearment, and he let himself play with your hair, twirling the soft strands around his finger while you hummed quietly in enjoyment.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," he murmured, suddenly not caring about overstepping any boundaries anymore. This was as close as he was going to get to redemption – to telling you that he was sorry, to being with you in the way that he wanted to. He wasn't going to waste the moment.

You didn't reply, but his confession made you smile. Finally, he was warming up to you again, letting his infatuation win over – and God, you needed it, you craved his affection.

Even after the movie was finished and the television screen had turned black, neither of you moved. It felt like déjà vu – your eyes were growing heavy as you relaxed in his embrace, just the same as they had the night that he'd brought you home when you were drunk and vulnerable.

Sebastian knew that you were falling asleep; he let it happen, leaning down just far enough to softly kiss your forehead, and then the tip of your nose, and then finally your lips, before whispering a tender goodnight.

He didn't sleep himself until hours later. He sat in silence, his hand still absentmindedly carding through your hair every so often as he tried desperately to ignore the hopelessness of the situation.

He couldn't stop himself from falling in love with you.