Daddy's Girl

I shuffled behind the slowest person in history, watching my feet as I basically tiptoed behind them. The flight had been comfortable, thanks to Pedro. The mini beds in First Class were a god send - my back was very thankful for them. Once I was cleared and free, my eyes started to scan the airport. Pedro text me to say he was waiting inside for me; but didn't specify where inside. Then.

There he was. Grinning. Looking like a god. His Fleetwood Mac T-shirt hanging proudly over his chest and hugging him in all the right areas. His curls messy and free, giving him a boyish charm. His thick framed glasses enhancing his perfect brown eyes, which scanned the masses of people trying to find me. With flowers in his hand. He spotted me and my heart raced as I watched his face lit up. Then he saw my T-shirt and laughed hysterically.

"Welcome back, baby!" He stood with open arms. I didn't waste any time running to him and throwing myself at him. He scooped me up, his strong arms lifted me off the ground as he rocked us back and forth. "Let me see your shirt." He put me down with a small thud and put his hands on my shoulders to get a better look. "You wore this on the plane?"

"Yeah. Got a few funny looks. You said you were going to get me a T-shirt with your face on it, and you know how I feel about you spending money on me so I got it myself."

"I love it. You are Daddy's girl, aren't ya? I'm gonna fuck you whilst you wear this." I was back in his arms, being pinned to his chest.

"Pedro!" I playfully smacked his back, "Seems a bit narcissistic?"

"Seeing my girl," His possessive choice of words instantly made me swoon, "Wearing something with my face on, on her fucking fine body, just, you know, makes me a bit feral for you. Not like I'm always feral for you, though."

"Guess you've missed my body!"

"I've missed all of you, but yes. I can't wait to bury myself in you."

"There's people around!" Pedro had earned another playful smack from me.

"They can't hear me. You know," He pulled back and linked our hands together as we started walking. "I never really cared about sex before. I was just something I did cos it felt good. But with you, it's like a need. It's so much more. I enjoy it so much more. I mean, it helps that you're so fucking hot, but I have this need to constantly be touching you, feeling you."

"And I feel the same. This is why I tell you not to think about anyone who had me before you. They were meh, and you're, you're ughhhhh."

"Don't be making those noises around me, I've not seen you for over a week." He widened his eyes and stopped suddenly. Without a second to react, he grabbed my face in his hands, the bouquet of flowers pressed against my cheek, he kissed me hard. He kept his lips there for seconds, before he pulled away, looked at my face and smiled, then quickly pecked me again. "I'll save the tongue for the car. Have you eaten?"

"Yeah I'm all good." My head was woozy, still reeling from the romantic gesture.

"These are for you, by the way." He gave me the flowers as we continued to walk. His thumb rubbed my knuckles in time with our footsteps.

"Thank you. They're beautiful. But you didn't need-"

"I didn't need to. I knew you were going to say that." Pedro cut me off, "I didn't need to, but I wanted to."

"Like something out of a romantic movie. Would you ever do a RomCom?"

"Depends. I'm an old man now, can't be selective with work. I'll take what I can get."

"How would you be able to do a RomCom without kissing someone though?"

"What do you mean?" He raised his brow at me, the big brown eyes narrowed.

"Well, you said the other day that we wouldn't be kissing or dating or sleeping anyone else, just each other, from now on. So you're not allowed to kiss other women. I won't allow it."

"Hmm like it when you're possessive." He stopped to kiss me quick again, "That's different. That's for work, that's my job."

"So I can kiss guys at work, because that's for work, you know, my job."

"No it's not. No kissing. Anyone but me." Again, I was brought to a stop by Pedro kissing me. A long, loving, hard smack to the lips which took all the air from my lungs. "None of 'em would kiss you like that. Just me. Only me."

Pedro helped me put my stuff in his boot, before we climbed into the car. His car was a lot nicer than mine.

"Do you need to grab anything, or you happy to head straight back?" He asked as he started the car.

"Nope. Just bed, please."

"Want music, or too tired for that?" His long fingers moved towards the stereo.

"Never too tired for music." I got comfy in my seat, cracking my neck and stretching my limbs. Pedro smirked at me before pressing a button. My jaw dropped when Harry came on. He side eyed me, knowing what he'd done.

"Have you been listening to Harry, or have you lined this up for me?"

"Bit of both. Not ashamed to say I've been listening to him a bit more since you played him in your car. I admit he's very good at what he does. Annoyed that he's a beautiful AND talented man that has your heart though."

"But you ARE a beautiful and talented man who has my heart."

"But not like Harry."

"Hey, you've got a T-shirt now. What more could you want?"

"More T-shirts of my face plastered across your tits, you drinking out of a mug with my face on it, a shrine to me in your living room..."

"Don't push your luck. Harry isn't the one who came to the airport in the middle of the night to get me. More points for you. I'm worried you're about to overtake him."

"I really fucking like you." Pedro's hand was on my thigh, gently squeezing.

"I really fucking like you, too. Daddy." He kissed me. Hard. With tongue. Like he'd promised.

I woke up to sheets and limbs draped over every inch on my body. Even in his sleep, Pedro liked to touch me. His left arm and leg hung over my body, pinning me to the mattress. It felt nice to be back in my own bed, own sheets. And of course, back with Pedro. But it hurt. I missed home. I already missed Dad, Grandad and Oli, and Olivia, my friends, my cat, English food, the streets, the smells. Everything. Whilst I loved being in L.A, England was home. The trip home made me realise that everything was the same back home, even if I wasn't there. It wasn't like their world stopped because I wasn't there to push it forward. They had each other, they continued on without me. And I was missing all the little moments. I started to panic, thinking about everything I'd miss; watching Jess become more pregnant and Oli care for Jess and their baby in a whole new way, seeing Olivia walk around B&M and picking out cute wedding decorations and saying "Should we get these?" Even though they hadn't even started planning their wedding or even picked a date. Watching my grandad's veggie garden blossom and being able to try his grown goodies. I'd miss watching Dad maybe fall in love again, and seeing another level of joy that would bring him. I couldn't help but cry. I tried my best to hold down the tears, but I couldn't stop my ribs from contracting as I struggled for air. The solid vibrations caused Pedro to stir awake.

"Ughhhh, morn-, Eleanor, you alright?" Pedro shot up, his large eyes still slightly red as he squinted at me. "Fuck, Eleanor, what's wrong?" His big hand on my shoulder pulled me down the bed and into him as he buried his face in my shoulder and hugged me closer to him. "Shhhh, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry!" I spat between stupid cries.

"For what? You're worrying me! What's wrong?"

"I'm just sad."

"Sad about what!?" His voice grew thicker with concern. For the first time since he'd woke up, Pedro looked up at me and stared. Wanting any clue as to what was going on.

"Just missing home. Just thinking about all the things I'm missing out on whilst I'm here."

"Oh baby, I hear you. I understand that must be hard for you to deal with. There's so much change going on at home, so it's only normal for you to feel this way. Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?" His beautiful eyes looked lovingly at me. I broke.

"You really care about me, don't you?" I felt it. Right then. The way he spoke to me. He didn't try and fix the situation. Memories from Sam came flooding back. Crying to him when I didn't feel good, and how he'd say "it'll be OK" because it was easier to say that instead of listening and understanding how I felt. But Pedro, the language he used, the way he always made me feel like I had his undivided attention, never failed to blow me away.

"Of course, I do. I really care about you." His soft smile matched his soft hair and I was lost in him. Consumed by him. I brought my hand up to stroke his cheek.

"It makes it easier, that when I'm here, in L.A, and I have you. I've never known a more caring or loving human in my life." He leant into my hand as I spoke to him, "I've always been so lucky to be blessed with the best family and friends. And everyone says that about their own, but for me, it's true. I've always struggled with believing I deserve the love and nourishing treatment I get. I never thought I'd find a guy who would be an extension of that. But you blow me away. I'll never know what I did for you to ever be interested in me. But I hope you know how much I care about you and how thankful I am of you." There was a pause between us, neither of us saying anything, just gazing at each other and soft smiling.

"I just, I-I-I, I just really like you, that's why."

"I just really like you, too. More than I've ever liked anyone else."

"Same for me, baby. So much so that I almost said the other L word." My heartbeat quicken.

"It's not been that long between us." I nervously smiled, knowing I felt the same.

"Which is why I'm lying to us both and saying I just like you. I'm happy with how things are right now."

"Me too." I ran my hand through his cheeks. "Ugh, what time is it?" I leant over to check the time on my phone. 5:40am.

"You got anything to do, today?" Pedro asked as he lay his cheek on my chest.

"Nothing. Just clean and do all my washing. You?"

"Nope. Not back at work till Monday. Let's go back to sleep. Come," He suddenly shot up in bed and adjusted the covers. "Let me hold you." I let the warmth feeling of his body and knowing I was safe with him gently soothe me back to sleep.

I woke up to an empty bed and cold sheets. It was unusual for Pedro to be awake before me, never mind up and out of the bed. I let my legs drift through the sheets and found them cold to touch, meaning Pedro hadn't been in bed for a while. Maybe I slept longer than I thought? I leaned over to the bed side table and checked my phone. 10:53am. Later than usual. No messages from Pedro confirming his whereabouts. I flipped back the covers and set off on a mission to find him.

I walked through into the open space, seeing Pedro in the kitchen. He was leaning against the kitchen island with his back to me, a coffee in his hand.

"I like seeing you so comfortable in my place." I emphasised the beginning of the sentence purposely to make him jump.

"Shit, you scared me!" It worked. "I was just about to check on you!"

"Why did you let me sleep in so late?" I padded over to him and pushed my arms around his thick waist. He smelt so good.

"Because you needed to rest." He leant forward and gave me a coffee coated kiss. "Morning babe."

"Morning." I smiled up at him, the warmth from his kiss radiated throughout my body. "How long have you been awake?" I removed myself from his grip to grab myself a coffee.

"I've been awake since about 9:30, not long. You look so good, I forgot how beautiful you look in the mornings."

"As opposed to the ugly mess I am throughout the rest of the day?" I smirked, hitting the coffee button on my machine.

"Noooo, dick. I mean, there's just something charming about seeing you in the morning. All soft, natural. I'm the only one who gets to see you like that and I like it. It's the only version of you I get to myself."

"And the naked one?"

"Well that goes without saying." The mention of me being naked made Pedro subconsciously wander over to me. I could tell he was inching to touch me. "You feeling any better this morning?"

"A little. It's just going to take a few days for me to get used to it again. I was the same the first time I moved, albeit there's a lot more I'm missing out on now. But I'll be fine. I always am."

"Unlucky for you, you'll always have me. Which means you'll be fine. Because I'll do whatever I need to, to make you happy." His arm wrapped around my shoulder and pulled me into him for a forehead kiss. "Can I take you out for lunch?" My heart.

"Depends."

"On what?"

"Are you going to let me split the bill?"

"Nope. That kinda defeats the point of me taking you out for lunch. Please let me." The slight begging tone to his voice let me know he wanted to do this. That I should resist this time.

"OK, yes. Thank you." I smiled sweetly and sipped my coffee. Pedro beamed at me.

"See, that wasn't so hard! You're welcome baby."

We sat on the sofa, chatting away about each others adventures whilst I'd been away. Pedro had been telling me about a fan who stopped him in the street the other day.

"And she came and asked for a picture and I was like, 'sure' and so we take this photo and out of nowhere, she said, 'It's nice to see you so happy, Pedro. And Eleanor is beautiful. We're so happy for you.' And my heart!" He gripped his chest and made his puppy eyes as he retold the story of the sweet fan interaction. "I mean, it's always nice to hear their sweet words, but hearing them make comments on you, it just, it just I like it. It makes me happy. I'm glad they're able to see what I see."

"Do you actively have to try to be the nicest person in the world, or is it all natural?"

"What do you mean?" Pedro giggled like a schoolboy as he leant onto my arm. "I've not done anything."

"You're the nicest person in the world. You just always say the sweetest things. You just always make me feel so good about myself."

"That's kinda my job, to make you feel good." Pedro went to continue but his phone buzzed in his hand. I watched him push his glasses up before saying, "Sorry, my friends are having a little get together tonight." He didn't look up as he spoke.

"You should go. That'll be nice!" I commented, putting my mug onto the coffee table. I could sit and watch him all day.

"Don't you want to come? If you're too tired, I totally understand. But if you fancy it, I'd love for you to come with me." He softly smiled.

"I genuinely think my cause of death will be when you look at me like that. With your massive brown eyes and that killer smile. It just floors me every time. You are so fucking beautiful."

"Noted. I'll bank that expression for everytime I want you to do something for me."

"It works, trust me."

"Would you like to come with me? It's at the Italian not far from mine, Marco's? You ever been?"

"No I haven't. Italian is my favourite. Sure, I'll come with you. Is it casual? Like what do I need to wear?"

"Whatever you want baby, you'll look amazing. It's only food, maybe a drink or two, definitely casual."

"Thank you for inviting me."

"You're welcome." He grinned at me, the gentle, genuine expression warmed my heart. He was intoxicating.

"I'm going to go shower before lunch. Entertain yourself." I got up from the sofa, walked over to him and placed a small smooch on his lips before going to the bedroom. I quickly made the bed and stripped out of my clothes to put them in the wash, leaving me standing in my bra and thong. I was pulling out clean underwear when I heard Pedro enter the bedroom.

***********************************************"Jesus fucking Christ." His voice was low behind me. I was aware that I was bent over, and knew that was what he was commenting on.

"Can I help you?" I stood up straight and turned to face him, trying my best to stifle the urge to jump on him.

"Yeah you can. Fuck me."

"Was that a term of admiration, or a request?" I bit my lip. Watching him stare at my body made me incredibly nervous and turned on at the same time. Especially when he licked his lips and looked like he was going to eat me.

"A little bit of one and a lot of the other." He finally looked me in the eyes and swallowed hard. "I really wanna fuck you."

"You'll have to wait, I need to shower."

"I don't care. You'll only get hot and sweaty anyway." He was striding towards me, his fingers wiggled slightly with anticipation. "God, you feel amazing!" His long fingers squeezed my skin. The heat between us made my skin prickle with excitement.

"I've missed you. Touching me like this."

"God, you feel so good." Pedro buried his face into my neck. His moustache grazed my skin as he nipped at my neck with small but dangerous kisses.

"Kiss me." I begged, wanting to feel those lips on my own. He moaned into my mouth as he quickly moved to kiss me. "Fuck." He breathed, altering his body so we were pressed against each other. I moaned when I felt him push his erection into my stomach. Feeling how hard he was made me feral for him. "Are you going to fuck me, or what?" I breathed against his lips. I opened my eyes, wanting to see his reaction to my words.

"Hmm yes I fucking am, baby." In one swift movement, I'd gone from standing up by the en-suite to being thrown gently on the bed. "Look at you, fuck. You're so fucking hot." I opened my legs and arms in unison, inviting him over to me. He threw himself on top of me, his lips back on my own so effortlessly and hungry. We giggled in unison when we both moaned simultaneously into each others mouths, a sweet moment in a passionate embrace. "I can't wait to be inside you." My stomach flipped at his words. Pedro stood up and proceeded to take of his top, leaving him in his pyjama trousers. Shirtless. Gorgeous. I watched his fingers trail his stomach to his waist band and knew I had to be the one who got the honour.

"Don't deprive me. Let me do that." I sat up so I was eye level with his crotch. I purposely dragged my nails lightly against his skin as I yanked on the waist band, leaving him exposed and hard at my eye level. I looked at him through my lashes as I let my tongue roll up the length of him.

"Fuckkkkk!" He hissed, throwing his head back whilst his hands gripped my head. I hollowed my cheeks as I took his tip in my mouth, allowing my tongue to roll over his head. "Fuck, you feel so good." His hands gently guided me as I rocked my head back and forth, hearing him moan with each movement. He was never over eager. Never demanding. Always allowing me to take everything at my own pace, gentle; caring. I pulled my away, allowing my mouth to make a sloppy pop noise.

"I'm sure I owe you a throat fuck?" I rolled my tongue over my lips, allowing a smirk to charm him.

"Shit, you do. You sure you wanna do it, baby?" I watched his chest expanding rapidly as he tried to steady his breathing. I moved down the bed, allowing my head to hang over the edge slightly. I beckoned him over and grabbed his thighs once he'd positioned himself. "Squeeze my thighs if you need me to stop." He bent his knees slightly to allow himself to position himself. I opened my mouth and moaned when he shoved himself in. Feeling him hit the back of my throat made me gag. "You OK?" I nodded and silently encouraged him to continue. He continued to move slower, each steady pace made me gag. From my upside position, I could still see the look of concern on his face. I moved my head slightly, asking him to go faster. So he did. The faster strokes weren't so harsh and soon we found a heavy rhythm which allowed him to go further down my throat. Pedro's hands were on each of my ears, tenderly holding my head but his thrusts were harsh and hot. The inability to swallow or breath caused my spit to overspill down my cheeks, which his thumbs would wipe away. "Fuckkkk this feels so fucking god! Shit! I don't think I've ever felt, fuck, fuckkkkk, it's never felt this good. Fuck." He stopped abruptly and pulled out of my mouth. His heavy pants filled the room as he looked down at me. He leant down and pouted and I tried not to laugh at his timing for a kiss. His lips pecked me hard, Spider-Man style. "You drive me fucking crazy." Whilst his words were intoxicating, the look he gave me was full of compassion and love.

Wanting to continue, I made eye contact and held out my tongue, "Spit in my mouth." His eyes darkened as he did what he was told, his spit fired into my mouth before he pushed himself back in. The thrust this time were instantly forceful - clearly our interlude had drove him over the edge. He hissed many more profanities, still whilst he cradled my head.

"I'm gonna cum, but I wanna be in you for that. Fuck. Come on!" He pulled out again and tenderly helped me move around on the bed so I was on my back, ready for him. "I could cum just seeing you like this, all for me. All mine. Fuck." Pedro yanked the thong of my body in record speed, allowing his fingers to go straight in me.  "Already so wet for me, baby. God it's so hot." One, two fingers in me. Hard and fast. The instant pleasure causing me to cry out.

"Hmmm P, like that. Fuck, the way you curl your fingers, hmmmm ahhhhhh."

"Like this?" His fingers curled as he moved faster, the wave of hot pleasure spiked through every inch of my body.

"Yesssss. Fuck. Pedro." I pathetically whispered.

"God I love hearing you moan my name. Again."

"Pedro." I knew he'd do anything he asked. I was putty in his hands. I was too lost in the feeling of him in me, that I didn't realise he'd removed his fingers and slammed himself into me until the feeling of him stretching me open overwhelmed me. "Ahhh fuck, so good. Fuck." He continued his ruthless pace as we took it in turns to moan out, the feeling of our bodies together causing nothing but pleasure.

"On your knees baby." He flipped me over and brought my knees up so I was kneeling on the bed. Without warning, he smacked my ass hard then rammed himself into me. The pain and pleasurable feeling caused my head to spin. One hand gripped my waist, the other snaked round my throat. After a few more thrusts, he pulled me by my throat so I was in a more seated position, his big hands holding my head against his chest. "You are so fucking hot. I love seeing you like this. I'm losing my fucking mind over you." His hand moved from my waist and proceeded to pull my boobs from my bra. He started to pinch each nipple - each sharp pinch felt incredible as he continued to pound me. I couldn't think, couldn't see, couldn't do anything but ride through the waves of pleasure.

"Pedro, please. I'm- I - fuck, I'm gonna cum."

"Me too baby, fuck." As if it was written straight from a Wattpad script, we came together. He leant all his weight on me as he filled me up. The feral groan caused me to spill over the edge.

*************************************************We were walking hand in down the street, going for a spot of lunch together. It was a particularly hot day. Pedro was dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, with socks and trainers. I had a vest, denim shorts and a pair of trainers on too. He joked when we'd gotten changed that we were wearing his and hers outfits, and that I copied his outfit because he was a style icon.

"You smell so good." He commented again, after telling me all morning how nice I smelt.

"It's no different, it's the same perfume I always wear."

"I know but it smells so good. I could just sniff you all day."

"Weirdo!" I joked, allowing him to drag us into a little restaurant just off the boulevard. It was open plan, and everything was white and blue. It felt very Greek. We took a seat in the corner by the large windows. My eyes scanned the menu as my stomach rumbled.

"Someone's hungry."

"I've worked up quite an appetite after this mornings antics, Mr Pascal."

"Happy to be of service, Miss Parker. It was fucking unreal. Best sex of my life."

"You say that every time. I'm starting to think you've said it to all the women you've slept with."

"Nope. Just you. And honestly, this morning..." He couldn't finish his sentence, words failed. He just gave a eye roll and open mouth expression to let me know how much he enjoyed it.

"Would you be mad if I went back home for my birthday?" I asked, dropping the menu down to see his reaction.

"What? Of course not!" Pedro's smiled was genuine, his eyes sparkled. I had only just noticed he didn't have his glasses on.

"Can you even see me?"

"What are you talking about? Yes I can see you." He scrunched his nose, confused by my statement.

"You're not wearing your glasses."

"Contacts, baby."

"If you were free, you know, not working, and you wanted to, would you come home with me for my birthday?"

"You'd actually want me there?"

"Of course. I want you to meet them all. All my favourite people. If you came with me, I could spend my birthday with all my favourite people."

"Baby," He breathed, the corners of his eyes softened downwards as he smiled again. His charming, disarming smile that knocked all the wind out of me. "I'd love to. Let me see what I've got on. Thank you for asking."

"I should warn you about Olivia now. She's a little bit in love with you."

"I'm sure I can handle her." Pedro leant back in his chair and crossed his arms, he'd already decided what he'd like to eat.

"That's what I'm worried about. She's like the most perfect human. She's a better cook than me, better baker, far more intelligent, funny, more beautiful than me," My comment made Pedro scoff. "What?"

"Nothing, I just, I'll never get tired of telling you how beautiful you are. I just get annoyed that you don't see how beautiful you are. I wish you believed it."

"No, I know I'm like, middle of the road, just average.  But she's like, stunning."

"She's an attractive girl, yes. But you are unreal." I went to protest but he told me to shhh. "You don't see it, but every guy, they all look at you. I can't take you anywhere without guys staring at you. All the god damn time. I mean, I can't blame them. If you wasn't with me and I saw you, I'd do the same. I mean, I did, didn't I? In the coffee shop that day. I was looking at you before you even noticed me." Pedro shyly smirked and shrugged, clearly nervous and embarrassed about what he was about to confess.

"What?"

"When you came through the door, I turned. You were on your phone, you know, before you fell for me." He grinned, knowing he'd managed to slide that comment in again, "And I was like 'Shit, she's gorgeous.' Then you threw yourself on the ground and begged for me to help you. And it was my perfect opportunity to talk to you. I was a little disappointed when you didn't instantly jump on me, you just got in the queue and then sat yourself in the corner. At one point, when I was watching you waiting for my coffee, I-I-I thought, because you didn't look up, I thought you wasn't going to be interested in me. But something in me, I just thought 'Fuck it, I can't leave without trying' that's why I came over to you. I was so fucking nervous asking for your number."

"I was nervous to even talk to you because I didn't think you'd ever want to speak to me, never mind anything else."

"That makes me smile because it couldn't be further from the truth. Now look at you, obsessed with me, can't keep your hands off me..." He mocked, but little did he know it was the truth.

"You're right, I am obsessed with you."

"And I am with you, darlin'. So please believe that there's no one else turning my head. Not now, not ever."

"Sounds like you really like me." I scanned the menu again, not deciding on anything in particular.

"I do. A lot. More than I've ever and will ever like anyone. But if you don't decide what you want to eat soon,  I might just lose my mind."

"I'll have the chicken and mushroom salad, please."

After lunch, we did a bit of shopping. I had to grab some skin care products and toiletries, as all of mine seemed to run out at the same time. I quite enjoyed watching Pedro lose his mind in the store, and ask me questions on everything I picked up, "What does that do?" "Why do you need to use that?" "How does that even work? "Where do you even put that?". We stopped by his apartment to grab some things so he could stay at mine again tonight.

"Basically living with me at this point, aren't you?" We walked into my apartment. There was something about watching Pedro walk into my apartment with shopping bags that made me swoon.

"I can go home if you'd like? I don't want to outstay my welcome." Pedro looked up at me with his dark eyes, a wash of guilt plastered over his face. I dropped my bag and went running over to him.

"Don't look at me like that and don't say that, please!" I snaked my arms around his neck. He snaked his around my waist and giggled shyly.

"Like what?"

"Like that! You're breaking my heart. Never say those words. I'll never not want you here."

"I appreciate that. I love being here. It's so much nicer than my apartment. It's cosy, and homely. Everything is so you. I'm just consumed by you when I'm here and I like that feeling."

"I want you here all the time. You never need to ask. If you wanna stay the night, you can. If you wanna stay 7 nights in a row, you can."

"Sounds like you're asking me to move in with you." His raised his eyebrow at me and smirked.

"Well not quite. I mean, I'd have no problem with you being here all the time. But whilst it's still early, maybe we should keep our own spaces. Give ourselves some time."

"Whatever you want, darling." The fact he didn't protest against moving in together made me wonder if he wouldn't mind it. Did he want us to move in together? It wasn't something I wanted to do right now.

We had time to kill before we had to get ready for dinner. Pedro was watching something on the TV whilst I sat on my phone. Pedro had made it onto my Instagram algorithm, naturally, of course. Then I saw a post that got my attention.

'Pedro Pascal Spills All - The Mandalorian, The Last of Us, becoming the Internets Daddy, and his New Relationship.'

Was this the interview he was telling me about the other week? The Instagram post told me to click on the link in their bio, so of course I did. As I was waiting for it to load, I looked up at Pedro, who was too engrossed in the TV and didn't pay any attention to me. I loved watching him concentrate, when his moustache would twitch and twist. It was incredibly endearing. The article loaded.

'After years of grinding away, the suddenly-everywhere actor is enjoying fame and near-universal adulation thanks to his dual streaming blockbusters The Last of Us and The Mandalorian. Over a weekend in New York, he talks about all of it—and everything that's coming next.'

I scrolled down a little further.

'Tokyo Record Bar was a chill lounge space where we'd have some privacy to talk, play a few records, and maybe drink a little tequila. Pascal thought that's what it would be like, too. Which is not a coincidence—because that's what I told him. But Tokyo Record Bar is not that kind of place at all. Instead, it's a (very good!) seven-course meal in a (very cool!) basement with a (very delicious!) sake pairing. Meanwhile, it's six-thirty in the evening, and Pascal's got dinner plans with his "very bossy, please don't print that" little sister, Lux, at eight. The clock is ticking.

We are suddenly aware that we're easily the oldest patrons in the house. "Is anyone in here thirty?" he asks, subtly gesturing around the room. "Maybe, but for sure nobody here is forty," I answer. The sake arrives, we fill each other's cups, we say cheers, his friendly eyes light up.

Everyone wants Pedro Pascal - you want him to be your hero or your fashion muse or your pal or maybe even your daddy. He's a sex symbol and a serious actor in one friendly but unknowable, cuddly but perhaps slightly dangerous package. One of one.

But Pascal talks to me about his love life. Something that he isn't widely known for. Pascal has no real dating history, and has even quoted multiple times that settling down, or committing to a relationship hasn't been on the cards for him. That was until he met a woman in a Starbucks who, quite literally, fell for him."

Of course he fucking mentioned that.

'Pascal: I was in Starbucks, waiting in line and I hear the door go, and I look up and I saw her and she was you know, very pretty. And I didn't pay any attention because she was young and gorgeous and I didn't think she'd be interested in a dork like me so I turned around. And I felt this weight against my legs, and I turned around and she's on the floor at my feet. You know, she almost took me out, and I was like "are you alright?" And she's like "do you think anyone saw me?" And I heard that sarcastic British humour and I was like, Shit. Oh no. Here it goes. Everything I'd been trying to put off my whole life.

When Pedro talks about Eleanor, a 28 year old who is originally from England, his face lights up. He is quite evidently happy. When asked how things are going, he licks his lips and beams, "Things are going so well. She's great. She's really great. She's the most beautiful, amazing, caring person. She's always doing something nice for someone. She makes everyone's day. Whenever I'm with her, I'm laughing, like fully belly laughing. We have so much fun. It's nice to feel that was with someone. I feel like I've won the jackpot, because she really is the best."

I didn't want to read anymore. I dropped my phone on the sofa and crawled towards Pedro. He was laying on the opposite side of my L shaped sofa, so I crawled over and straddled him.

"Heyyyyy, you alright?" He started to rub circles on my back as I buried my head into his neck.

"Yeah, I just want you to hold me." I wanted to be close to him. Feel him. Make myself believe he was real. Because this perfect man, speaking those words about me to a whole world, made my heart hurt like nothing I'd ever experienced. This was another level of love in my life I never thought I'd have, or believe I deserved.

"I'll happily do that," His voice sounded deeper as it rumbled through his chest and straight into my ear. "You sure that nothing's wrong?"

"I really like you." I finally lifted my head to look at him. His messy salt and pepper hair, his soft skin, the creases at the sides of his eyes that deepened as he smiled at me. The best, most chocolate brown eyes in the world that could make me do anything he wanted to. Along with that killer smile.

"I really like you, too." He flashed his charming, megawatt smile.

"How are you even real?"

"What? What do you mean?"

"You are literally perfect." How was this man even interested in me? How did he want me when he looked like this?

"I am far from perfect, baby. But thank you."

"No, but you are. You are perfect." I grabbed his face in my hands, making him stare at me. It made him giggle, and I felt his cheeks squish again at my palms. "So perfect."

"Is this where you make me feel good, and then make a comment that I'm almost as perfect or beautiful as Harry, just to keep me humble?" He placed his hands on mine. Both of us holding his face.

"This is the bit where I tell you that I really like you, like really like you. That I never want you to leave me. That I like you more than Harry Styles." As soon as the words left my mouth, he shot up, almost knocking me off his lap and onto the floor. My hand managed to grip the material of the sofa before I fell, whilst Pedro burst out laughing.

"Come 'ere!" He pulled me by my wrists back on top of him. "I really like you too. And I won't leave you. As long as you promise not to leave me."

"I promise." I leant forward and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

"I fucking knew it!" He beamed at me, leaving me confused.

"Knew what?"

"That I could fucking charm you into liking me more than Harry Styles. I knew I could do it. Hahahahaha. Fuck you, Harry! I get you all to myself now. Muahahahaha." He scrunched me into his chest and peppered my face with loads of tiny kisses.

"Prick." I laughed, knowing there wasn't a single thing I wouldn't do for that man.