His English Heart- A Tom Hiddleston Fanfiction

Dinner Part Two

We both know you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off of me.

Did he really say that?

Did he?

He did.

The entire trip to the bathroom was you asking that over and over. Did he actually just say that?

It ticks you off, for one thing. It just infuriates you, and your very sure of why.

You were uptight and coiled from the second you walked into the bathroom. The lights flash on from the detection of your movement, and you very nearly scream in surprise of the sudden illumination.

He’s just so… so….. not wrong.

Standing in the bathroom, staring at your reflection in the mirror, you have to stabilize yourself on the counter. You stop, your anger flushed face staring madly back at you. What can you do? How do you continue talking after he goes and says something like that?

Deep breaths. Breathe. Inhale, hold for ten seconds, exhale. Peace. Pure, complete blankness of mind that eases the tensed muscles in your neck and arms. Safety, here in this space. Bliss. You breath again.

And something breaks your solid concentration.

“And I, will always love you….”

“Shut up,” you growl at the radio, straightening back up and fixing your cardigan. If he wants to play.

You’ll play.

Just before heading out, you throw the mirror a wide smile. Building up confidence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner passes with normal conversation, but your mind keeps drifting to that sentence. You wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off of me…

Baseball. If there were a way to go back to the night of that game… You’d make sure that he called you the next morning. Make for positive that you hopped the plane with him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She’d been more… flirtatious, this evening. Or maybe she didn’t know she was reacting the way she was.

Either way- I’d definitely noticed. The way her hips moved when she left the table after my… comment. Or how she gave me this weird glance on the way back.

Like it was challenging me.

I liked it much more than I should. Much more.

She just was sitting there, messing with her loose hair, it falling in curls down past her shoulders. It probably smells like shampoo. Feminine shampoo.

“What else have you been up too?” She asks, pursing her lips before capturing a piece of steak with them.

“I read the script for Thor 2 last week,” I reply, trying my hardest not to think about that piece of steak, “It was… interesting.”

“Just interesting?” Her eyebrows raise, and the small ring on her middle finger catches light.

“No, no!” I quickly amend, “It was amazing- nothing short of amazing.”

“Great,” she smiles, her eyes lighting up with happiness, but that doesn’t last long. Before I’m able to keep that picture and dwell on her simplistic beauty, her irises darken, lips turning back down, “I hope I get to come back.”

I do not understand this girl. So full of talent and energy and passion for everything, yet no self confidence.

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” chuckling, I reach for my water and take a sip, “I won’t have anyone else help me prepare for Loki but you.”