Ch. 13 - If You Want Me, Come and Find Me

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Ten minutes? You know you can make it in that time, but why the short notice? Oh, well. You decide not to question it – it’s not every day that Tom Hiddleston wants to meet with you.  You walk from the Café Boheme – you’d went there to grab a bite after work – to Piccadilly, which as usual is packed to the gills with people.

“You just had to choose this tourist trap, didn’t you?” you ask aloud, although Tom is nowhere near you. “And at the busiest time…”

To: Tom

All right, I’m here. Where are you?

From: Tom

Oh, no, dear. I believe I said that you could find me.

Find him? In this crowd?

To: Tom

You can’t be serious. There are hundreds of people here!

From: Tom

I’m completely serious. You’re a smart girl, you can do it.

You pocket your mobile and shake your head. He’s mental! Starting with the obvious places, like the fountain, you search through the crowds for Tom. Two or three times you think you’ve found him, only to get closer and see that it’s only someone who is the same height or has similar hair. You’re getting more and more frustrated, and after fifteen minutes of trying and failing to find Tom, you decide to ring him and admit defeat.

You press CALL, and just as it starts ringing you hear a phone go of not far from you. Probably coincidence, you think, but you look around to locate the source out of curiosity as you wait for Tom to pick up. When he answers, the ringing from nearby ceases, which makes you think maybe it wasn’t as coincidental as you thought. You head in that direction.

“Calling to give up, love?” you hear him ask, both in the phone and somewhere ahead. He’s definitely close.

“No, calling for a favour,” you reply. “Could you turn around, please?"

“All right, but I don’t –“

You watch him turn and see you, the surprise on his face making you smile.

“Got you,” you say into the phone, even though he’s within earshot.

He grins and starts toward you, not bothering to hang up either. “That you did. I knew you would.”

Like always, you go a bit pink when he compliments you. “Oh, stop. I kind of cheated, using my mobile. I wasn’t even trying to, either; I was calling to tell you I couldn’t find you, but then I heard your mobile go off so I followed the sound.”

“That isn’t cheating, darling, that’s strategy,” he replies.

“Yeah, accidental strategy.”

You both laugh, and then there’s a moment where you both are standing there, still awkwardly holding your mobiles. “I suppose we can hang up now,” you suggest.

“Right,” he agrees, nodding as he disconnects. You do the same, shoving your phone in your bag as he pockets his.

“You’re taller than I remember,” you admit.

He smiles again. You wonder, is it normal to feel short of breath when he does that? “I’m afraid my memory doesn’t exactly do you justice either,” he replies.

 “I bet you say that to all the girls,” you tease.

“Actually, you’d be surprised how little I say that.” Tom offers an arm to you. “Shall we?”

You take it.

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