Hello Again (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

December 2010: A Fling with Meaning!

I step outside quickly after introductions are finished, and everyone starts bustling around to get dinner started. I feel like I might get sick, or I might just start maniacally laughing. Either way, I don't feel like I should be around people. I slip out the French doors off the living room, and out onto the patio.

I'm blasted in the face with cold air, coming straight off the harbor. The temperature has dropped considerably since earlier in the afternoon, and with the sun down, it's quite cold. This was a terrible idea. The culmination of so many terrible ideas.

Only I could mess up a pretty straightforward one night stand. Only I would pick the brother of a close friend. How did I even manage? And now, to complicate matters worse, he seems to have a girlfriend! I'm not sure whether to be mad, or to be resolute in the idea that I am not a one-night-stand kind of girl. Should have just stuck to my tried and true shrew routine. No one ever died of embarrassment from being a prudish museum curator. Okay, maybe died of boredom, but still.

And the worst part-the most embarrassing part-is that I sort of convinced myself that it was a fling, but a fling with meaning. He'd just been so convincing. So sweet, and genuine. We'd had quite a good time together, the night of and the day after. I'd convinced myself that I was different. I was the kind of girl that you remember. And oh, he remembered me, alright. Probably as the girl he cheated on his girlfriend with.

"Shit." I mumble, wrapping my arms around my chest. I take a few deep, cleansing breaths. Or, I tell myself they are cleansing. I don't feel much better. There's no way I can go home. Leaving early is not really an option. And I don't have the money to stay anywhere else. That's the bad part about freeloading off of a very generous friend. If the situation isn't ideal, then you sort of have to live with it. This situation is...not...ideal.

"Well you really dug yourself a nice, deep hole this time, eh, Gracie girl?" Santos steps outside and I roll my eyes, taking a deep breath. I don't say anything.

"Let me get this straight. Because my spidey-senses were tingling. Like, not just tingling, they were off the charts, Richter Scale level. Is Tom your slutty friend from Punta Cana? Did you actually let all your long overdue sorority girl fantasies out on Emily's brother?" Santos steps in front of me, and wraps his arms around me, pulling me face first into his chest. I let him hug me, but I don't return it. I just stand pressed against him, blinking and staring unseeing into his chest.

"Oh Gracie." He sighs and then hugs me tighter. I shake my head and feel some laughter bubble in my throat. It's not funny. It's the opposite of funny, but I can't help but laugh. Only me. I feel Santos start to laugh as well, and we both just stand there for a minute, shaking with silent laughter, and shivering slightly from the cold.

"What a mess." I breathe softly. He rests his chin on my head for a minute before shrugging.

"Well, I thought I'd be bored this week. And then look at you, coming in with your fake names and your sleazy pastimes." He grins.

"I'm really embarrassed, Santos. We can't tell Emily." I plead softly. He nods.

"Don't be embarrassed. And I don't think she'd really care. She'd probably be annoyed with Tom, but not with you." He offers. I figure this is true. Not that either of us really have anything to be sorry for, but Emily is that sort of person. She'd stand up for the "honor" of her friend, and berate her silly brother for being a manwhore.

"Well, please, as much as I know you like stirring the shit pot, please, don't. Emily was so nice to invite me here, and I don't want to ruin this week for anyone." I ask. Santos nods and I know he'll keep his word.