After Chris returned with Denise's vanilla latte, and his green tea, the both of them chatted at her corner table in Starbucks. The first topic at hand involved their beverage choice. She asked if he really wasn't a coffee person and he explained he wasn't unless his schedule needed him to be, and he found out vanilla lattes were only had once in a blue moon, usually when she was traveling. It didn't take long for them to alter the hallmark of their conversation from a fan with her celebrity crush to two old friends after years apart.

There was a bizarre feeling of tranquility associated with Denise that Chris felt and yearned, hence why he approached her despite instinctually knowing she was a fan. It was an unaccustomed move; the limelight was something he preferred to abscond from. But he was comfortable with her. His nerves weren't taut and he didn't have to question if anything said was going to be used against him after. His career and reputation had experienced vicissitudes caused by things he said before so it was a second nature for him to be prudent with his words, but not this time and not with her. With her, he wanted to be as honest as she was being with him.

Denise was unalike Chris' calm and collected demeanor in the beginning. She thought she was suffering from palpitations and feared he could hear it from across the table. She unintentionally rambled, all the while failing to resist her voice from quivering when it came to certain points in her sentences. She even felt compelled to hide her clammy plans under her butt in fear he'd reach over and give her hand another pat or gentle squeeze. As the hands ticked by, she was able to mirror his sense of tranquility, and her capability to be present in the moment without fearing she'd embarrass herself evolved. She didn't know what it was about him that normalized him despite his celebrity status and deadly good looks, but for a second- she could almost forget that she was talking to Chris Evans.

It never occurred to her that Chris would be everything she'd imagined he'd be. He was more, if that was even possible. The way she'd portrayed him in her stories was- as far as she could see- a hundred and ten percent accurate. The man was sweet, funny, intelligent, and real. What one saw with him was what one got. His questions, his comments, and his interest in what she had to say weren't ostensible. She got so lost in the conversation, in his dazzling blue eyes that she feared she wouldn't be able to write a narrative surrounding her recherché encounter once he walked away. But there was heavy doubt she needed anything to remind her of this. She was confident it would be something she was going to remember on her deathbed, which was surely moments away if he continued to smile at her the way he was.

The pragmatic side of Denise's mind reminded her not to fall harder, or get even more attached to the man she clearly had no chance with. He was a talented and successful movie star, and she was just an aspiring screen writer with student loans. As genuine as he was being, she knew he was only talking to her to pass time in a boring airport. But the hopelessly romantic and imaginative side of her said otherwise, it assured her Chris wouldn't waste his time with anyone he wasn't interested in. Whether or not his interest had a romantic or platonic background, the assiduity with which he devoted himself to succeeding in Hollywood kept him from investing in people he had no further intentions with.

Denise was aware these were all conclusions she'd simply devised from the interviews and articles she'd watched and read about him. She'd accepted a while ago that with him, her judgement would perpetually be askew in accordance with her own writing. She understood he was on a pedestal, but it didn't affect the trust he'd unknowingly earned from her. She trusted he was a good man who was worth befriending, and loving if she were ever lucky enough to acquire those chances. She wasn't naïve enough to think she'd have a chance at being his girlfriend like she'd always dreamed of, but maybe- just maybe, she had a chance at being his friend.

"So tell me, Denise," Chris began. He was thrilled to see how much more relaxed she was with him now than she was at the start of the conversation. Her hands had dried and returned to thrum the tabletop quietly as she waited for him to finish his sentence. "What made you want to pursue screen writing?"

"Not what, you." The corners of their lips curled into a small smiles when she corrected him. "I um-" She chewed the inside of her lower lip and he leaned forward, resting his arms on the tabletop as he watched her curiously. "I've always loved writing. Ever since I was a little kid, it has been the one thing I've stuck with. I liked making up stories, imagining all the different lives I could live and all the different jobs I could do. Writing was, and still is a great escape from a life I'm not always happy in," she admitted with a level of honesty he felt lucky to be graced with. "But it wasn't until I started writing fan fiction about you on Tumblr that I realized I wanted to turn my hobby into a career."

"What do you mean?"

"Writing took me into a different world," she explained. "I could have the perfect life with the perfect guy, be who I wanted and have control over things I don't have control of. It's like a safe haven, a place where nothing bad could get to me. Writing made me happy and..." She trailed off, running her tongue across her lips. "I don't know, I just- I realized there were other people like me out there. People who needed someone else to be, someone wonderful to be with. There had to be someone out there who needed a safe haven too."

"So you started posting on Tumblr," he finished for her and she nodded.

"I started out pretty slow, I had a few likes here and there. It took a while for me to build a fan base, but eventually- I had a reasonable number of readers who supported all my pieces. A lot of them thanked me for writing something that took their mind off a bad day, for making them smile. Some thanked me for distracting them from their anxiety or depression. And then-" She felt her eyes welled with tears of joy; she was still touched every time she talked about her interactions with her readers. "There were those who would tell me that my stories gave them a reason to hold out for a love as strong as the ones I wrote about."

Chris smiled as he listened to Denise answer his question in great detail with an indescribable amount of pride and passion. He felt his heart flutter as he unknowingly started falling for her. He understood now why "vanilla latte, kinda girl?" came to mind. She was scarily similar, almost identical to the female protagonist in one of his favorite love stories. And surprisingly, it was a Chris Evans series written by one of his fans on Tumblr.

Chris had found the link lodged away in his Twitter mentions a couple months ago, a simple sentence "you deserve a love as strong as this" caught his attention and invited him into the world of fan fiction. After spending an entire day binge-reading the whole series, he closed his eyes and wished he had the life that Chris Evans had. Whoever wrote it knew him well, and evidently bought the same blueprint for the perfect life. The plot was everything he wanted in life, and the girl- everything he wanted in a wife. She was- as they would say- the one for him. They had similar interests, morals, values, and personalities. He wasn't gullible, he was aware it was just a story. However, he was curious as to who the author was because if she were even a quarter of her female protagonist- he wanted to meet her.

Chris' head tilted slightly as his gaze washed over Denise. He was wondering if she had heard of the series, or better- if she knew the author considering she was one herself. She surely had better connections than he did being a member of the Tumblr community who had a fairly large following. Perhaps she could help him find the girl who wrote 'Perfect' because he'd love to meet her, to see if she was anything like her female protagonist. She had to be, it was simply too realistic for her not to have used herself as a model.

"It felt good knowing my hobby had the ability to change someone's life," Denise continued and Chris returned his attention to her. "It would've been a crime- I had to make into a career, I couldn't possibly live with myself if I knew I could change someone's life for the better and not do that." He nodded, smiling. "I don't know, I'm rambling again." She chuckled nervously and he shook his head reassuringly. "I just- I want my time in this world to be worthwhile, I want to make difference and not let myself dissipate into mediocrity."

"I get that," he smiled. "Like- I'm- I am completely in agreement with you. I'm-" He found himself at a lost for words as he watched her intently. He chuckled with a shake of his head, "you're- you're kind of amazing, Denise." She felt herself flush as she bit back her growing smile. "That is an extraordinary answer to such an unextraordinary question."

"It's also an answer I'm glad I got to share with you," she told him. "I am where I am because of you, Chris. I didn't come to that conclusion on my own, you were the reason I made that decision. I know for a fact I wouldn't be where I am if it weren't for you."

"I don't believe that," he shook his head. "I'm just one of the pieces, Denise, you've got to give yourself more credit. From what I've heard come out of your mouth, you would've done something incredible with your talent even if you weren't a fan of mine. I was just lucky enough to be the one you wrote about, I had nothing to do with where you are right now. That's all you, own that."

"I would, but I can't." She winced then giggled when he audibly groaned, trying not to smile at her persistence to credit him for her own accomplishment. "I would've never pursued anything if I weren't a fan of yours." She told him and he narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Yes, I would've wrote about someone else but- your success story is what made me push myself into studying screenwriting. In all your interviews, you talked about pushing yourself into what scares you. Like going to New York to pursue your acting career, and working with Marvel- those stories are what inspired me to pursue my own career, I would've never if it weren't for you."

His facials softened and he smiled, unsure of what to say except, "I'm glad I could help. You're very talented from what I could see over your shoulder," he said then chuckled when she did. "Would you mind letting me read something else of yours? I promise I won't judge," he told her when she looked hesitant. "Unless you're one of those kinky smut writers," he teased. "'Cause then maybe there'll be a little judgement."

"Yeah, that's not really my thing. I'm more for innuendos and leaving things to one's imagination." She told him and he found himself nodding with approval. "But um- I should warn you that some of my friends are kinky smut writers, so..." She trailed off, giggling at his lost for words. "You don't have to say anything, I don't think they want your appraisal."

"Well, if they do, you can tell them I'm stunned by what they come up with." He told her and she nodded, trying not to laugh. "Sometimes I wonder if I should take a few tips, y'know, try and turn my vanilla based life into something more swirly." He joked with a playful smirk and she laughed louder, covering her mouth when she realized she was attracting attention.

"Like you need any tips on how to get things done in the bedroom," she teased then blushed when he winked. "Fine," she opened her laptop screen and turned it towards him after opening her most successful piece; her series. "This one's a series, so it's fairly long." She explained and his heart skipped a beat.

Suddenly Chris saw Denise in a new light and the urge to smack his own head against the table overwhelmed him. He couldn't comprehend how it didn't occur to him that she could have been the girl he was looking for. For crying out loud, she was writing fan fiction about him when he approached her; she even told him she posted her works on Tumblr. How did it not come up? How could he have been that dense? All this time, he could've been sitting across the table from the girl he could possibly spend the rest of his life with.

"You don't have to read it all, it's long," Denise continued as Chris' eyes quickly scanned what was in front of him so he could determine if she was in fact the girl he was looking for. There were too many signs for her not to be, she was too similar to the female protagonist. "You can just-"

"Oh my God." His eyes stopped at one of the many sentences he'd read a thousand times. "Drunk minds speak for a sober heart," he mumbled to himself then looked up at her. She swallowed the regret she had for letting him read her work. It was nerve-wrecking because she couldn't tell if he was creeped out or impressed. Her forehead creased with confusion when she finally deciphered the way he was looking at her. She was about to question his look of adoration when a smile spread across his face and reached his eyes. With one breath, he whispered, "it's you."