Twelve Red Roses (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

Chapter 9- Henry

Henry puts his hands up, as if to mockingly say 'oh, you're so tough'. "I can talk about her any way I want. Are you going to try and stop me?"

"I'm going to ask you nicely."

Henry scoffs.

"Henry..." I warn. "Please just walk away."

"And give in to this guy? He can't even fight properly!"

I just groan. "Please, Tom, can we walk away?"

"After he spoke to you like that?" He asks. "No. He needs to apologize."

"Back off, man," Henry snaps, stepping closer to Tom. I bite my lower lip, not sure of what to do to stop them. I could grab Tom's hand and run. But with Tom's strength, I probably wouldn't be able to pull him very far (if at all) before he stopped me in my tracks.

Henry is at least two inches shorter than Tom, yet he doesn't look scared.

"No," Tom says coldly. I feel his arm press lightly against my stomach, making me take a few steps behind him.

Then the unexpected happens. Henry rams his fist at an angle at Tom's nose, and, obviously not expecting that, Tom loses his footing and falls right on his bum on the cement.

"Tom!" I shriek, putting a hand over my mouth. I snap my head towards Henry, and without taking much time to think, I copy what he did, punching him directly in the nose.

Henry lets out a surprised yelp, and so do I. Henry stares at me like I'm some sort of psychopath before running away, holding his nose.

"You bitch!" He shouts as he leaves.

"Ow..." I mutter as soon as he leaves, clutching my fist. Then I kneel directly in front of Tom, worriedly staring into his eyes. "Are you alright? Oh, God, Tom, I'm so sorry. None of this would've happened if it weren't for me. I'm so sorry," I say, rambling a bit.

"Cass, I'm fine..." He rubs his nose lightly, cringing. "God, I can't believe I let him get away with talking to you like that. I must seem so weak right now."

"Don't be stupid, Thomas. He was the weak one for picking a fight." I notice my body is between his legs, mostly so I can be closer to him, but I really couldn't care at the moment. "I'm so sorry."

"No I'm sorry. I didn't say anything earlier when he said such mean things to you."

"Thomas, it's fine. I'm used to it."

"Why do you call me 'Thomas'?" He asks with a tiny smile.

I shrug. "I use it when I'm trying to be more serious, really."

He chuckles, and that's when I see a red liquid trickle from his nose.

I gasp. "Crap, you're bleeding!"

He gently dabs at the blood, wincing. I pull his hand away carefully and get a handkerchief from my bag, letting him put it to his nose.

"Um, should I stand up?" He asks.

"Nobody's here," I point out. "So who cares?" I then hug him tightly, burrowing my face into his shoulder and wrapping my arms around his neck.

"I'm loving all of this attention," he jokes.

I let out a small laugh, gripping his shirt even tighter. "I just felt so scared, really. I'm so glad you were with me."

"I'm glad, too," he responds, tilting his head back to stop the bleeding.

"Even though you got socked in the nose?"

"You're hurting my pride," he says, letting out a small laugh.