𝐀/𝐍: 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝!

𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

The car felt stifling despite the cool evening air outside. My hands clutched the steering wheel as I stared up at Y/n's apartment window. The light was on, warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the cold knot of nerves in my stomach.

I'd spent the entire drive rehearsing what to say. "I'm sorry," was the obvious choice, but it felt weak. Hollow. What good were apologies when the damage had already been done?

The sweater sat on the passenger seat like a mocking reminder of how ridiculous this plan was.

Was I really here just to drop it off? Or was I hoping for... what? Closure? A chance to see her, to explain myself? To fix something that felt unfixable?

"Okay," I muttered under my breath, tapping the steering wheel. "You can do this. Just... be normal. Be calm."

I inhaled deeply, glancing at myself in the rearview mirror. My reflection stared back, tense and unsure.

I smoothed my hair, brushing nonexistent lint off my jacket. "You're Scarlett Johansson," I said softly, like it was a mantra. "You've faced worse than this."

But had I? Facing Y/n felt harder than any press junket, any film set, any public scrutiny. Because this wasn't about image or performance.

This was real. Raw. And I wasn't sure if I was ready for what might happen when I knocked on that door.

With a shaky breath, I grabbed the sweater and stepped out of the car. The city buzzed quietly around me as I crossed the street and entered her building.

Each step up the stairs felt heavier than the last, my heart pounding louder with every floor I climbed.

Finally, I reached her door. My hand hovered, hesitant, over the wood. I closed my eyes, mentally rehearsing one last time.

"Hey, I just wanted to drop this off... and maybe talk, if you're up for it."

Before I could second-guess myself, I knocked, the sound echoing in the hallway. My chest tightened as I heard soft footsteps approaching from the other side.

The door opened, and my breath hitched.

𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐧'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

The knock echoed through the apartment as I stood in the bathroom, curling the last section of my hair. Y/n's muffled voice called out from the shower. "Can you get that, babe? I'm kind of occupied."

"Got it!" I called back, unplugging the curling iron and adjusting the oversized hoodie I was wearing—Y/n's hoodie, of course. My heart gave a little flutter as I caught my reflection, knowing she'd tease me later for always stealing her clothes.

I walked to the door, expecting a delivery or maybe one of Y/n's friends dropping by. Instead, when I opened it, I found myself face-to-face with Scarlett Johansson.

"Hi," she said, her voice soft but strained. She held out a folded sweater, her gaze flicking briefly to my face before darting away.

"Hi," I echoed, caught slightly off guard. "Uh, can I help you?" I asked curiously.

Scarlett cleared her throat, shifting on her feet. "Is Y/n here?"

"She's in the shower," I said, leaning against the doorframe. "Do you want me to grab her?"

"No, no," Scarlett said quickly, shaking her head. "I just... I was dropping this off. She left it at Chris's place."

I took the sweater, offering a polite smile. "Thanks. I'll make sure she gets it."

Scarlett nodded, her gaze lingering for a moment before she stepped back. "Okay. Well... have a good night."

"You too," I replied, watching her retreat down the hallway before closing the door. I stood there for a second, the interaction replaying in my mind.

𝐘/𝐍'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

The sound of the door closing barely registered over the water cascading down my back. "Who was that?" I called out, poking my head out of the shower, water dripping from my body.

Madelyn appeared in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the soft glow of the bathroom light. Her gaze flickered to me, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile.

"Scarlett," she said simply, holding up a sweater. "She was dropping this off. Apparently, you left it at Chris's place."

I arched an eyebrow, letting the hot water rinse the remaining shampoo from my hair. "Scarlett? Seriously?"

"Yeah, I kind of had to pinch myself, who the hell has Scarlett Johansson at their door, I'd die," Madelyn chuckled, though there was something in her tone that made me glance at her more closely.

I turned off the water, grabbing a towel from the rack. Wrapping it around my waist, I stepped out, droplets trailing down my chest as I reached for another towel to dry my hair. Madelyn's eyes dipped—just for a second—but it was enough for me to notice.

"You okay?" I teased, smirking as I ran the towel over my hair.

Madelyn's lips parted slightly, her gaze snapping back to my face. "I mean... yeah, she's just her, you know?"

I raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to her, the steam from the shower still clinging to my skin.

"Why do you look so uneasy?" I teased. "No reason," she quickly trailed off with her lip tucked between her teeth. "You're lying."

She swallowed, her cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink. "I'm not lying."

"Uh-huh," I murmured, leaning against the counter beside her, water still dripping onto the tile floor. "You're biting your lip. That's your tell."

Madelyn's lips twitched, but she held her ground, crossing her arms. "I wasn't biting my lip."

"You are now," I pointed out, my voice dropping slightly. I reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her breath hitched, and I grinned, my thumb brushing lightly against her cheek. "See? Caught you."

Madelyn let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "You're impossible."

"And yet, here you are," I said, stepping just a fraction closer, enough that the heat of my skin brushed against her.

Madelyn's eyes flickered down to my chest, her voice dropping. "You should probably get dressed."

I tilted my head, pretending to consider her words. "Should I?"

Her fingers twitched at her sides, and she quickly dropped her gaze, clearing her throat. "Yes. Because if you don't, I can't promise we'll make it out of this apartment."

I chuckled, leaning down until my lips were just inches from hers. "Is that a threat or a promise?"

Madelyn's cheeks flushed, and she reached out, pressing a hand against my chest to nudge me back. "Babe, stop."

"Stop what?" I asked innocently, trailing my fingers along her arm.

She exhaled sharply, her voice barely above a whisper. "Looking like that. Standing like that. Existing like that."

I laughed, catching her hand before she could push me away again. I brought it to my lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. "You're cute when you're flustered."

Madelyn groaned, dropping her head back against the doorframe. "You're the worst."

"And you love it," I teased, letting her hand go before grabbing my towel to dry off properly.

Madelyn watched me for a moment, her eyes still lingering on my skin. Finally, she straightened, shaking her head like she was trying to snap herself out of a daze. "Just hurry up and get dressed, Evans. You're wet--"

"Like you're becoming right now at the sight of me?" I joked. "Shut up, get dressed." she spoke frustrated as her cheeks heated up.

I smirked, stepping closer one last time. "Only because I don't want to deprive our friends of your company tonight. But if you keep looking at me like that, we're not leaving this apartment."

Madelyn's laughter bubbled out, but her blush deepened. "Go," she said, pointing toward the bedroom. "Before I change my mind."

I leaned down, brushing my lips against her cheek. "I'll be quick."

"Good," she murmured, watching as I grabbed my clothes and left the bathroom.

When I glanced back, her gaze was still on me, and I couldn't help but grin.

. . .

𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐲

𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

The light from the sun setting filtered through Florence's place. I sat at her kitchen island, sipping on my tea, the events of the previous night looping in my mind like a broken record.

"You're gonna burn a hole in my countertop with all that glaring," Florence quipped, leaning against the counter as she stirred her tea. Her tone was light, but her eyes were sharp, studying me carefully.

I groaned, setting my mug down and running a hand through my hair. "I can't stop thinking about it. I shouldn't have gone over there. And then to have her answer the door?"

"You mean Madelyn," Florence clarified, her smirk tugging at her lips.

"Yes, Madelyn," I snapped, immediately regretting the sharpness in my tone. "Sorry. I just—"

"You just what?" she pressed, her voice softer now. "Scar, you went over there unannounced. What were you expecting?"

"I don't know!" I admitted, throwing my hands up. "I thought maybe I could apologize. Maybe talk to her. But seeing her open the door... it was humiliating, Flo."

Florence sighed, setting her tea down and crossing her arms. "Scar, if you keep letting your jealousy run the show, you're going to push Y/n so far away she'll never look back. Is that what you want?"

Before I could answer, Lizzie walked in, a bag in one hand and her phone in the other. "Hello! What'd I miss?" she asked cheerfully, glancing between us.

Florence arched an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Oh, not much. Just Scarlett having an existential crisis because she showed up at Y/n's and got met with the sight of Madelyn Cline instead of the grand reunion she imagined."

Lizzie's eyes widened as she plopped onto a barstool. "Wait—what? Scar, you didn't!"

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "I already feel bad enough, Liz."

"She's not wrong, though," Florence added, clearly enjoying the spectacle. "It was awkward, to say the least."

Lizzie winced, then reached out to pat my arm. "Oh, Scar... I mean, I get it. But you've gotta stop torturing yourself like this."

"Yeah, well, now I have to face them both tonight," I muttered, gripping my tea cup tighter.

"Madelyn's going to be there. Y/n and her perfect little relationship on full display. How am I supposed to sit through that?"

"You're going to be polite," Florence said firmly. "You don't have to interact with them if you don't want to, but no snarky comments, no passive-aggressive remarks. Just... be nice."

Lizzie nodded in agreement. "Seriously. Take the high road, Scar. Otherwise, you're just giving them more reason to think you can't handle this."

I sighed heavily, the weight of their advice settling over me. "Fine. I'll behave."

Florence smirked, her tone turning teasing. "That's the spirit. Now, let's see if you can make it through the car ride without snapping."

𝐘/𝐍'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

Madelyn stood in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom, adjusting her outfit. The black fabric hugged her curves perfectly, and I couldn't help but stare.

"Stop looking at me like that," she said, her tone teasing but her cheeks turning pink.

"Like what?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk.

"Like you're considering skipping dinner altogether," she shot back, meeting my gaze through the mirror.

"Can you blame me?" I replied, stepping closer and wrapping my arms around her waist from behind. "You look incredible."

She laughed softly, tilting her head back to rest against my shoulder. "You're not too bad yourself, Evans."

I pressed a kiss to her neck, grinning when she shivered. "You nervous?"

"A little," she admitted, turning in my arms to face me. "I thought it was just Chris and Alba. Now there's Scott too?"

I chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Scott's harmless. He'll probably just spend the whole night embarrassing me."

"Still," she said, biting her lip. "It's a lot."

"You'll be fine," I said, kissing her forehead. "And if it gets overwhelming, just give me a look. I'll whisk you away."

She smiled, leaning into me. "Thanks. I just want to make a good impression."

"They're going to love you," I said confidently. "And if they don't, that's their problem. Not yours."

She laughed, shaking her head. "You're too good at this."

"At what?"

"Making me feel like I can do anything," she said softly.

I cupped her face, my thumbs brushing over her cheeks. "That's because you can."

The moment stretched between us, her gaze locked with mine. She leaned up, capturing my lips in a soft kiss that sent warmth coursing through me.

"Mmm," she moaned. "No more of that because I will get right into bed and let you have your way with me," she giggled.

"That sounds more than okay--"

"No, come on we have to go." Madelyn giggled as she walked out of the bathroom.

. . .

Chris greeted us at the door with his signature grin, pulling Madelyn into a hug. "Madelyn! It's been forever. How are you?"

"Good to see you, Evans," she replied, her smile wide and genuine.

Scott appeared behind Chris, his grin mischievous. "Ah, so this is the famous Madelyn. I've heard plenty about you."

"All good things, I hope," she said, her tone light.

"Of course," Scott said, shooting me a wink. "Y/n here can't stop talking about you."

I rolled my eyes, pulling Madelyn closer as we followed them inside. The living room was already buzzing with conversation.

Dylan and Anna sat on one couch, while Florence, Lizzie, and Scarlett were clustered near the kitchen.

As we walked in, all eyes turned to us. Dylan's face lit up. "Well, if it isn't the happy couple."

Madelyn blushed, but she didn't pull away when I wrapped an arm around her waist. "Hey, Stilinski."

"Glad you could make it," Alba said, walking over to greet us. She hugged me, then turned to Madelyn. "It's so nice to finally meet you properly."

"You too," Madelyn said warmly. "Thanks for having us."

As the night went on, the conversation flowed easily. Madelyn fit in perfectly, laughing at Dylan's jokes and trading stories with Alba.

Every so often, I'd catch Scarlett watching us from across the room, her expression unreadable.

At one point, I leaned closer to Madelyn, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You okay?"

She nodded, her smile soft. "I'm good."

The rest of the dinner passed tensely, the atmosphere never quite returning to the easy warmth from before.

A/N: WHAT ARE WE THINKING SO FAR?