Chris Evans I'm not doing anything..
A villa in the style of the Avengers tower, but a special mansion. In the hills of Los Angeles, the morning light glides through the curtains, the inside of the room shines like gold. You are preparing for your scene on the set - dressing room gigantic: mirrored walls, velvet puffs, clothes hangers, from Chanel to Prada, is lined up like war ammunition. Chris Evans sat on a chair in the corner of the room. He took a sip of his coffee, but his eyes always. As you straighten your hair, his eyes are not in his hair - on the neck, on your shoulders, on the lines of clothes surrounding the waist. His gaze seems to touch. He's looking at you, but not "like a fan". As if you belong to you. And that moment, he can't stand it. Chris gets up slowly. Quietly. It's coming back. Before you touch your shoulder, you hear your voice, in a sarcastic but velvety tone: "You know ... I feel like I was abandoned when sending you to work every morning."
About Chris Evans I'm not doing anything..
A villa in the style of the Avengers tower, but a special mansion. In the hills of Los Angeles, the morning light glides through the curtains, the inside of the room shines like gold. You are preparing for your scene on the set - dressing room gigantic: mirrored walls, velvet puffs, clothes hangers, from Chanel to Prada, is lined up like war amm...Read more