Denise's fingers absentmindedly thrummed the tabletop as she murmured the last line she just wrote to herself. "Across the room, Chris watched you intently with a small smile on his lips. He thought of approaching you, but wondered if you were the kind of girl that would appreciate or reject his boldness." She chewed the inside of her cheek, her finger hovering over the backspace key. It seemed like yet another cliché, and though clichés were what she and her hopeless romantic readers loved- she wanted to expand herself. She huffed and pushed down on the delete key, watching her words get chewed up by the blinking bar.

"What was wrong with that?" She flinched and tensed when she heard an oddly familiar male voice come from over her shoulder. The stranger was so close to her she could feel the warmth of his minty breath on her cheek. "Clichés are great." He winced as he pulled back, knowing he'd gotten a little too close. "I mean- there's a reason they're overused, right?"

Usually, Denise wasn't the kind of person who would snap at a stranger in an airport; she was too worried about the repercussions to do that. Usually, she'd just send a death defying glare their way and let her eyes do the talking as she'd been told she had a very intimidating face; one she'd no doubt got from her mom. But this was different, this was a stranger reading her writing without her permission. She'd always been incredibly protective and defensive when it came to her writing and people peering at her screens- be it laptop, iPad, or iPhone. It was her biggest pet peeve; she hated having people stand behind her while she was on any of those said devices. It wasn't like she had something to hide, she just didn't like her privacy being invaded.

"Thanks for the input I didn't ask for." She bit as she abruptly closed the screen of her MacBook; a chuckle heard from him. "Do you want to know what I think?" She quizzed rhetorically as she turned to shoot the nosy stranger her famous glare. "I think you should mind-" She cut herself off when she saw who it was. "Oh my God," she felt her breath caught in her throat. She gulped then breathed, "you're Chris Evans."

Denise couldn't believe it. The man she had snapped at was Chris Evans. Christopher Robert Evans: the talented actor, brilliant director, and Captain America himself. The brown haired, blue eyed, Bostonian that she knew she could only ever dream of marrying one day; the man who accompanied her protagonist in all her life endeavors. Chris Evans was actually in front of her, talking to her, breathing the same air as her, and all she'd said to him so far was "thanks for the input I didn't ask for" as well as "I think you should mind your own damn business." Even though she didn't get to finish her latter, it was still not the way she'd imagined her first meeting with her celebrity crush to go.

"Indeed I am," he moved to sit in the chair across from her, "but please, don't let that stop you."

Chris attempted not to show too much amusement, but he couldn't help his smile. Denise was exactly the kind of girl he liked: sassy, but clearly sweeter than honey. He'd seen her earlier, when they were both checking in. She was talking to the little boy in front of her. He was wearing glasses too big for his face, but between Denise and young Jasper- Chris found Denise cuter. He then spotted her again in the departure hall, talking to an airport security dog while its officer was searching someone else's bag. He was about to approach her when the officer took the dog away and she'd walked off, pouting. He thought that was it, that he wouldn't have the chance to talk to her again, then he came across her sitting in Starbucks. He spotted her in the window and decided it was time he got to actually meeting her, rather than admiring her from afar. So far his decision to approach her had been one of his best.

"You think I should mind..." He trailed off, his captivating blue eyes urging her to continue.

"Your own damn business," she mumbled sheepishly as she mentally cussed herself out. She knew her attitude was going to bite her in the butt one day, it was just her luck it had to happen in front of her idol. It wasn't until she heard him laugh that she felt a little better. It was then she realized he lived up to his reputation of being genial and down-to-earth. "I am so sorry," she felt the need to apologize though he didn't feel the need for an apology. "I'm not usually that rude, I just-" she swallowed when she saw his intent gaze on her. "I don't like it when people look at my screen. I'm very protective of my writing and I don't-"

"Oh, don't even worry about it." He cut her off with one of his typical, heart thumping smiles. "I'm not usually that nosy. I actually heard you mumble my name and you were watching your screen so intently that I got curious as to what had your attention. Fan fiction is an interesting thing," he finished with a chuckle.

"Oh God," she blushed deeply, perhaps she had something to hide after all. "It's not- um- I don't- you see-" she rambled and he laughed, placing a comforting hand over hers to soothe her. "My name is Denise and I'm studying to be a screenwriter. I write fan fiction on Tumblr to put my work out there and get real people reviews," she explained in a frazzled tone. "I am so sorry, I don't mean any disrespect."

"I know, you don't have to apologize," he smiled at her, bringing her heart to flutter again. "I think writing about someone is the greatest form of flattery. Every artist has a muse, right?" He quizzed and she nodded, unsure if there was another way to respond. "So relax," he gave her hand a quick pat then pulled away, "I am very flattered to be yours."

"You are?"

"I am," he nodded. "I think it's interesting to see how others see me, even if my fans may be a little biased at times." He winked at her with a click of his tongue and she thought she would swoon right there and then. "It's nice to know people think I'd make a good boyfriend, or husband and father. It's actually very reassuring," he admitted with a sheepish smile. "I was starting to think I was the problem in all my failed relationships."

"You can't be serious." She laughed and he smiled, appreciating how alluring she and her laughter was. "You're like the perfect man. There is no way you were the problem in any of your failed relationships," she said and suffered immediate regret, realizing she'd offended all of his exes. "Of course- I don't- I don't mean any disrespect to anyone you've dated." He chuckled, noting how cute she was when she panicked. "Like Jenny's awesome, she is so hilarious and-"

"Hey," he interjected and she stopped, holding her breath for some reason. "Breathe, Denise." He instructed and she did as he said. "I'm not going to bite your head off for speaking your piece. I can tell you don't mean any harm with anything you say. So lighten up, okay?" She nodded and he smiled. "I enjoy hearing what you have to say. You're not afraid to speak your mind and I find that very refreshing."

"I never thought I'd hear those words actually come out of your mouth," she admitted with reddening cheeks. "Thank you, that's um- that's very sweet of you to say. I've only ever been called refreshing in my own stories, so-" She laughed when he did. A rush of boldness surged through her, bringing forth her ability to tease him with "looks like someone is living up to the level of perfection us fan girls have created."

This time it was his turn to blush. "Oh, stop it." He chuckled and absentmindedly waved his hand, briefly lowering his gaze so she wouldn't spot the red in his cheeks. "Your Chris might be perfect," he said and she almost choked on the air in her lungs, "but I am far from it. I am almost certain your Chris wouldn't have read over your shoulder like that, he'd buy you a coffee first then politely ask what you were working on." He licked his dry lips, hoping she could hear how suggestive his tone was. He wasn't done talking to her, he wanted to sit with her until they had to board their plane.

"No one's stopping you from doing that now." She replied, much to his delight and her dismay. He was overjoyed she was reciprocating his attempts to flirt and prolong their conversation, but she was so horrified she wanted to slap herself in the face. What was she doing? This was Chris freaking Evans! He'd dated huge names, names that she couldn't beat even in her best day. She needed to quit while she was ahead, she needed to just ask for a photo then leave him alone. She knew all that, yet the next words left her lips anyway, "I'm all for do-overs."

"I guess this is my lucky day then." He grinned which made her smile. "I'll be right back. You're a..." He pointed at her as he rose to his feet, his tone and facials showed that he was trying to guess her drink so she didn't offer any help. He couldn't explain it, but he felt the urge to say "vanilla latte, kinda girl?" which left her to part her lips in awe. "Did I get it?" He was as amazed as she was, unsure how or why he associated her with that drink.

"Not bad, Mr. Evans."

"Thank you," he proceeded to execute a small theatric bow; her lips quirked into a smile. "And please, call me Chris. Mr. Evans will forever be my father, I'm not that old yet." He joked and she chuckled. "Alright, I'll be back. Oh, yes-" he stopped and turned on his heel, "just to make sure you don't the run off." He held out his phone for her to take, but she only stared at it. "Hold my phone, will you?"

"You want me to hold your phone for you?" Her brows furrowed with utter confusion when he nodded, smiling. "You do realize we just met, right?" He nodded. "And I'm a fan, like- a huge fan?" He nodded again, his smile only widening with each passing second. "Aren't you worried I'll go through your photos, or steal Sebastian Stan's phone number?"

"Not really," he shook his head. "I've got nothing to hide, and you don't look like the kind of girl who would do that kind of thing anyway." She tried not to smile at how well he knew her despite having just met her. "As for stealing Seb's number, well-" he shrugged nonchalantly, "I think he'd be lucky to have you in his life."

"Okay, now that sounds like a line I'd make you say," she teased him and he laughed. "Exactly how much fan fic do you read, Chris Evans?" She quizzed with a smug smirk, which turned into more of a shy smile when he winked. She ignored her nerves and continued to play it cool, "do you have a secret Tumblr account to keep track on all the writing we do about you?"

"I'm going to plead the fifth to that question." He started towards the counter, glancing back at a giggling her as he did. "Don't go anywhere, okay?" He tried not to laugh when he saw her roll her eyes, suppressing her smile. It was fairly obvious she wasn't going anywhere but he needed to be sure. There was something about her, something he didn't want to say goodbye to. He didn't know much about her but he knew she was no ordinary girl. He felt his smile grow ever wider when he told her, "I want to hear more about you and your writing."