So this is the first mini-story under this book title, and I will be adding many more. I just have so many ideas that I know I can't persue all at one, so I have to settle on making small, simplified versions of them. It's the only way it can work. However, if I get a ton of comments on one particular story I might be convinced to go further with it. So tell me what you think, this one is called Crazy.
CRAZY
"No, Tom, stop it!" my hands jumped up to my hair, ripping through it in frustration repeatedly until it was a big mess as I spun away from him and paced the apartment nervously, violently.
He was driving me up a fucking wall.
"What am I doing? I just came to say hello!" he was quick to defend himself, putting the stack of books down on my kitchen table quickly. Yes, you read correctly, he brought me books. Because he knows that I would rather have two books than a bouquet of roses, or chocolates, or whatever.
He looked so put together, with his snug dark jeans and comfortable white button up. His usual cologne wafted into my nose, and I resisted the urge to bury my face in his shirt.
We weren't even dating! I had kept it strictly platonic for as long as I could, despite the desperate nagging in my head telling me that it was meant to be something more. And yet here he was, showing up randomly at my place to say hello, bringing with him books and that irresistible smile that had my stomach fluttering.
He quickly closed the door behind him so the neighbors wouldn't hear me freaking out, while I ran through the place I called home, looking for my sanity. And maybe some proper apparel, as an old Bob Dylan tshirt and boxer shorts wasn't appropriate for company.
"I just-- you coming here and all the funny texts, and the long fingers, with the gentleman, and the-- UGH!" I finally screamed, throwing myself into the nearest arm chair and rubbing my hands down my face.
It had slowly been building up, my love for Tom Hiddleston. We had met only months before, at a UNICEF event, and my life had been hectic ever since. He was a wonderful friend, always considerate and kind, willing to put himself out there even when I wasn't.
"What are you talking about?!" Tom didn't seem upset, just severely confused. He kept a safe distance away, which was all I really cared about at the moment. Because if he got any closer, I was sure to forcefully kiss him.
It wasn't even like him showing up was weird. We did it all the time to one another, mostly because we were both so bad at planning things out that spontaneity was kind of the only way to go.
DAMN HIM AND HIS PERFECTNESS.
I had already started spouting out the things that I loved about him, so hey, why not continue adding fuel to the fire or my impending humiliation and undeniable rejection?
"Just the past few days, Thomas! Books all the time, wonderful books that make me cry. And you know they do that to me, but you keep getting them because you also know that I love them! And then the suits, oh Jesus the suits. Do you actually try to drive me crazy? Because that's where I'm headed." I jumped up off the chair again, ignoring his sputtering from a couple feet away.
Before he could even say anything I was going off again.
"I can't even think nowadays! My heads all filled up with you, with that stupid laugh and the things you tweet and the way you tap your fingers when you think no one is watching." I was nearly shouting at this point, all the pent up thoughts about this wonderful man that had been racing through my head for the past couple days "When you curse in front of people, and when you make French toast because that's all you know how to make. The way you buy me coffee almost every day and the number of times you smile in a single hour."
