Twelve Red Roses (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

Chapter 1- Huntington Library and Gardens

The gardens were incredibly enjoyable. They weren't too crowded, and it wasn't overly expensive to get in. There were butterfly gardens, rose gardens, Asian gardens... A lot of gardens. And they were all beautiful.

After two hours of just seeing different gardens and walking through them, I decide it's time to get out of the sun and have some tea.

I like to think this is where my trip actually starts. In this tea-room in California.

"Ah, I'm so sorry, miss, it seems that all of our tables are filled up..." A waiter says, giving me an apologetic look.

I just give him a smile back, knowing how busy this place must get. "That's alright. Maybe I'll come back in an hour," I say.

I start to turn away, looking for the doors of the libraries.

"You can sit with me, if you'd like," a new voice says. A voice that seemed soft yet clear at the same time. A voice that sounded like silk with an English accent. The waiter and I both look to our right to see a man sitting alone at a table for two, a newspaper in his hand, a cup of tea in front of him, and his phone next to it. His hair is slightly curly, and is almost a blond color. Russet colored, really. But I bet if he was in the sun, it would have a tint of red to it. The man dressed pretty casually, with black trousers and a cerulean blue button-up shirt.

I just stare at him for a moment, wondering if I should accept his offer. What if he turns out to be some creep? But he doesn't look that way.

"Okay..." I finally say. "If it's no problem."

"No, no problem at all," the man says, sounding quite sincere. I step towards the empty chair, and he rises from his seat, beating me to it. He pulls it out for me, giving me a small smile. Without being able to help it, I feel myself blushing lightly. I quickly mumble a thank you and sit down, allowing him to push in my chair a bit. Then he sits back down in his chair, picking up the newspaper once again.

Who the hell is this man? Are all men from England like this? Perfect gentlemen to complete strangers? I only assume he is from England, judging by the accent.

The waiter who helped me before sets down a menu of teas and small lunches and tells me he'll be back later to take my order. I just stare down at the menu, not knowing whether or not to break the silence.

"May I suggest the Earl Grey?"

I look up, and immediately my eyes are locked with his blue ones. And when I say blue, I mean blue. I wonder for a moment if they are contacts, but decide against it, seeing that they look very real.

"I mean, Earl Grey is one of my favorites," the man continues. "Some may not like it too much, though. Their raspberry tea is also very nice."

"Oh. Thank you." I put the menu down, now knowing what I'll order.

"I'm Tom, by the way." He extends his long, slender hand to me, offering a handshake and giving me a smile at the same time. When he smiled, I could easily see his white, straight teeth. At least I know he's not too much of a creep. He is well-groomed and always brushes his teeth, it seems.

"Cassidy," I say, introducing myself. I shake his hand. It felt soft yet strong in my hand.

"Cassidy," he repeats, trying the name out. "It's wonderful to meet you. Might I call you 'Cassie'?"

"I prefer 'Cass'," I tell him, shrugging lightly.

"Yes, sorry about that. I'll call you Cass, then."

I can't help but feel confused by his apology. Oh well. "And I'll call you Tom, Thomas," I joke.

"How'd you know my name was Thomas?" He asks, looking surprised.

I figured he was joking since it seemed pretty obvious. Was he just stupid? No, that couldn't be it. He looks like a rather intelligent man. "Because you said your name was Tom, so... I just figured your real name was Thomas."

He grins at that point, chuckling lightly. "I'm only kidding with you, darling. I promise you, I'm not that dumb."

I just look down and smile, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Oh. Okay." Not even a second later, the waiter comes back to our table. I order an Earl Grey, just as Tom suggested, and the waiter takes my menu before leaving.

Then, seeing that Tom has a newspaper in his hand and he is reading it, I get out my phone to pass the time. But he soon decides to speak again.

"Are you a local?"

"Me? No, I'm not from here. Are you?"

"Oh, no, certainly not. I'm from London. The United Kingdom."

I nod. "That makes sense. With your accent." I let out a small sigh, realizing how un-charming I must be compared to this stranger. "So surely you haven't come all of this way to visit the Gardens and the Tea-rooms. Why did you decide to come to California?"

He shrugs, his blue eyes meeting mine again. "I just needed a break from it all, you know?"

I nod. But I don't actually get what he means. Then I frown lightly. "Do I know you from somewhere...?"

Tom just shrugs. "It's possible... I, uh, I get around a lot." He glances up at me and frowns. "Not like that. I just mean that a lot of people know me."

"Oh. I'm probably just imagining it."

"Possibly," he replies slowly.

Thankfully, the waiter comes by and gives me my cup of tea, saving me from this conversation I had single-handedly made awkward.

I'm able to finish my tea within five minutes, and by then, Tom had ordered a second. I don't want to wear out my welcome and stay at his table for too long, so I decide to move on to the libraries. When I get up, though, Tom glances at me with a surprised expression. "Leaving so soon? You only just sat down."

"Yeah... I just figured you would want your table back."

"Oh, I don't mind."

"Thanks, but I still have to go through the libraries before they close."

"Then let me come with you," he suggests.

"No, uh... I mean, you could, but, I do better alone."

Tom looks slightly hurt, but I think he understands.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly.

"It's alright. It was wonderful meeting you, Cass," he says.

"And you, Tom. Goodbye."

I let out a small sigh as soon as I escape the tea-room and go into the library. That man was so nice to me. I sort of wish I could stay longer, but I had it stuck in my head that I wasn't welcome there. I mean, I know I wouldn't be too comfortable with someone sitting down at my table while I was trying to have tea.

Throughout walking around in the large library, I notice that I seem distant. I couldn't stop thinking about Tom. But not exactly about Tom himself, I was thinking about men in general. It had been a while since I'd even spoken to a man that I either 1) wasn't related to, or 2) was even slightly attracted to. And Tom was certainly attractive. What was a man like that even doing being seen at a table with me? Being nice to me?

I remember my last boyfriend quite well. He was so different compared to the guys I usually like. Henry seemed nice at first. He was confident, attractive, and always said what was on his mind. That also seemed to be his major flaw, though. He didn't have a filter for his harsh words. If he thought your hair looked terrible, he'd tell you. If he hated the meal at a restaurant, he'd say it loudly enough that everyone- including the workers- would hear it. If your fly was undone or you had food on your face, he wouldn't tell you discreetly. He'd say it in front of everyone. And he thought it was incredibly humorous. And people would sometimes laugh alongside him, making the targeted person even more embarrassed. So at this point in my life, I hated being embarrassed. I hated the harsh truth.

So, yeah. Pretty big flaw that I somehow managed to look over for almost five months before I just got tired of being humiliated.

And so that's why I've decided to just say no to relationships for a while, and decided that all men are terrible.

But oh, would I soon be proven wrong.