Hello Again (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

February 2013: Uneventful

I spend a good twenty minutes or so enjoying my coffee, and finishing my pastry.  Santos starts texting me Valentine’s Day greetings, which make me smile.  I decide to head back to my apartment, and maybe rent a movie as opposed to going out to see one.  The hermit in me is dying to stay cozy inside the rest of the day. 

Just as I go to throw away my trash, a man catches my eye as he comes striding through the front door of the café.  I feel a bit as if I’ve seen a ghost.  I feel it straight to my bones, and I can’t help but freeze, watching him.

The dark eyes and hair.  A neatly trimmed beard. He’s wearing a wool pea coat, with the collar upturned from the cold London air.  And when he turns toward the front counter, our eyes meet immediately.

“Gracie.” Richard hardly falters.  I blink and then pull myself from my shock.

“Hi. Richard.” I say.  My first instinct is to run.  Maybe kick him in the shins and then run, but I don’t.  He turns toward me, now looking pleased to see me.

“You look lovely.  It’s been quite awhile, hasn’t it?” He asks.  He steps out of line and walks toward me, stopping a few feet in front of me.  Up close I can see how little he has changed.  Chocolate brown eyes, and dark wavy hair.  He’s dressed formally in a dress shirt and tie under his winter coat. 

“Yes. What are you doing in London?” I feel my heart thumping in my chest, feeling out of sorts seeing him here.  I feel nothing for him, but it’s still rather jarring to run into him.  Especially since there’s thousands of miles and an entire ocean set between where I am and where he should be.

“Holiday.  Just for the weekend, really.  Wow, you look fantastic.” He breathes softly and smiles at me.  I chew nervously on my lip and then look down, grabbing my coat from the back of the chair I’d been sitting in.

“Thank you.” I nod. 

“Are you leaving? Please, let me buy you a drink.  I’d love to catch up, if you have the time.  What are the odds?” He laughs affably and holds his hands out, as if it is extraordinary that we’ve bumped into each other.  I suppose it is extraordinary, but it’s also not something I’d ever choose.  And I don’t feel the need to prolong it.

“No, thank you, I’m....late…” I trail off, gesturing toward the door.  Richard frowns, putting his hands together in a pleading motion.

“Please, Gracie.  Just a few minutes? Do you still drink lattes? Extra foam?” He asks as he steps up toward the counter.  That was what I had just been drinking.  I shake my head.

“No.”

“Oh? What is it then?” His brow furrows and he waits for me. 

“Just a coffee. Black.” I say quickly.  He nods and makes an approving face and then orders both of our drinks.  Maybe it is morbid curiosity.  Maybe it’s something else.  But I don’t leave.  I stay.  I stay because I don’t really have much else to run off to, and I stay because I figure that fifteen minutes can’t do any harm.

****

The fifteen minutes turns into twenty, and then nearly thirty.  Richard is surprisingly genial, and very animated as he speaks.  He reminds me of the Richard I first met, back in college.  Excitable, but well spoken.  Intelligent, bright and self effacing.  And as he tries to catch me up quickly on what he’s being doing for the past two years, I can’t help but notice that he’s not wearing a wedding ring.

I don’t speak much.  I nod mostly, and let him do the talking. He’s not with the museum anymore.  He’s with a pharmaceutical company, which has offices all over.  One in New York, one in London, one in Los Angeles.  He came to London for work, but then stayed for a bit of a holiday. He’s obviously doing well for himself, judging by his clothing and the way he talks about his job.