Because You're Mine (A Tom Hiddleston Fanfic) #Wattys2016 #pfcc2k16

Chapter One: The Scent.

Once we get there, we walk in and the first thing I notice is how small this place is, but in a rather warm and cozy way.

I spot a free table by the window and we take a seat. The waitress doesn't take long to come to us with a menu and a notepad. She greets us with a smile as she leaves a basket full of freshly baked bread right in front of me. I pick up a slice and I take a deep breath so the scent of the crumb fills my nostrils.

"Let me know when you're ready, Mr. Spader." She says. I chuckle as I watch my father cringe at her words.

She must be around sixty years old and behind her exhausted eyes and dull skin, I can tell that she is a very pretty woman. Her whole aspect gives me the impression that she's quite the motherly and caring type.

The golden name tag pinned to her chest reads Dorothy and I think to myself how appropriate her name sounds. She smiles at us constantly and I don't find it annoying or invasive at all, which has to be some kind of a miracle considering how neurotic I can be around overly sympathetic people I don't know.

"How many times do I have to ask you to call me James, Dorothy? We're almost finishing this movie and you still call me by my last name." My father reprimands her with his eyes as cold as stone but a wide and honest smile.

"Come by tomorrow... I might get it right by then." she answers with a chuckle as her cheeks turn a little pink.

"I don't understand your obsession with being called by your name. You can't expect everyone to call you James." I tell my father when Dorothy walks away "Here, in England, it's hard to break the habit of calling people Mister or Misses, especially when they're old." I laugh while taking a glance at my menu

"Oh! Is that so? Look who's soaked in all the British customs." he says with a snort. "And the old part, totally uncalled for."

My father pretty much hates England and everything it represents ever since I decided to settle down here, almost two years ago.

He is genuinely convinced, as smart as the man actually is, that I have been fallen into some sort of voodoo spell that made me forsake my whole family and friends back in L.A. and come to this devilish city that feeds of innocent daddy's little girls. But then again, if you consider that falling head over heels with this city the minute I set foot in it is a voodoo spell, then it might as well be one.

"Anyway... How've you been? How's Harry doing?" He makes a signal to Dorothy and she's by our side by the next second. My dad places the order and she walks away to get it prepared.

"Actually, and please do not freak out about this, Harry and I broke up..." I can see him freaking out about it, but I keep talking. "He left the apartment three weeks ago. I have a roommate now. She's cool, I guess... Kind of weird, like... weird, but in a good, non-psychotic way... could be a sociopath, though." I mumble, just hoping he would stop being the person he is and let the whole break up thing go.

He removes his glasses and leaves them on the table. Oh, no! I think to myself. That is his I-am-going-to-kill-whoever-made-my -baby-suffer look. He is not going to let it go.

"What happened? What did he do?" he asks while rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"It doesn't matter, dad." I answer. I look over to the window and I stay like that, staring at the other side, without really seeing anything.

I can see a tall figure walking towards the entrance but I don't really pay attention to it. Moments later, I can feel someone is moving the chair behind me and taking a seat. I know it's a man because I can smell his perfume and I find it quite alluring. I'm seconds away from turning around when my father speaks again, taking me back to our conversation.