What I wouldn't give to be snuggled up on the couch (probably the biggest, softest L couch) next to Chris Evans playing me a few little piano tunes while the rain falls softly outside. A cup of tea in hand, probably a little liquor in the tea, maybe some whiskey. Fireplace crackling, a cream colored cable knit blanket wrapped around my shoulders. Apple Maple Bourbon candle burning. "Another one, Kel?" he asks, turning away from the keys to stare into my eyes, a little more gray than usual because of the rain. "Keep going babe, this is better than my Melancholy Instrumentals playlist on Spotify." He laughs, because I'm hilarious, and plays until I drift off to sleep. He stops playing to kiss me gently on the forehead, causing me to stir. "More tea, babe?" Yes, Chris. I will have some more tea.
And I'll also have THAT DICK ON THIS BEAR SKIN RUG IN FRONT OF THE FIRE, I SAW HOW YOU TICKLED THOSE IVORIES ALL AFTERNOON BABY AND ITS TIME TO PUT THEM TO USE ON MY PIANO
Chris Evans. Forever the #1 Chris. Maybe it is a #bones day after all AMIRIGHT LADIES AND GENTLEMEN?