Thomas Brodie-Sangster Imagines

Part 1. The Party

(Y/N) POV

My aunt was throwing a party. She does this all the time. This one is 50's themed. My choice. I love the 50's. It had the best music, best hair, best fashions, best everything. Everyone came dressed in 50's outfits. I dont think she even knows half the people here. I know most of them, but thats cause i invited them. I was waiting for my friends to arrive. They never confirmed they were coming, but i know them. They wouldnt bail on me like that. I went to the kitchen. I grab my ginger ale from the fridge. My aunt got it specially for me. She knows its my favourite. When people ask me to describe our relationship, the only well known comparison is John Lennon and his mother Julia. John was raised by his aunt Mimi, so when he met his mother when he was a teenager, they became best friends. Thats what me and my aunt are. Best friends. It's nice to have her here with me. I left my family back in Canada to study law at Oxford. I lived with my aunt back home when I was studying for my undergrad at U of T, and when she heard I got into Oxford, she decided she'd rent a place here in England so she could be here if I needed her. Shes so sweet.
Its July 1st. Back home people are celebrating Canada day. My friend and her family would always spend Canada day together. There would be fireworks in the municipal park by her house. My aunt knew I missed this tradition, and she decided to throw me a party at her place in Liverpool. Yes, it's over a 3 hour drive, but it's a Saturday, and I don't mind. I mean, she moved to England to stay with me. Visiting her on weekend is the least I can do.
I walk back over to the living room. My friends still havent arrived. They were supossed to come as a party of 8. My 2 bandmates, two of my best friends, my friend from our card game alliance, and the 3 guys i hang out with at school. All my friends that dont go to school with us think we're in some kind of relationship. Bloody hell no. We're just good friends. But it does help when i go to parties that you are supposed to bring dates too. I just pretend im one of their girlfriends.
Still no sign of them.
I bump into an old friend. Her mother was my dads highschool friend. We were never super close, but we would hang out at parties. Its always nice to have someone to talk to when your friends arent there. We talk for a bit. Nice to see her again. We go outside for a bit. The sun is going to set soon. So we head back inside.
We're in the living room again. I see this guy across the room. I don't recognize him. I'm sure hes just one of the girls I imvited's boyfriend. I dont think much of it.
My friend and I continue sipping our drinks.
I feel a slap on my face.
I look at my friend. "What the bloody hell was that for?" I snap at her.
She smacks me again...
"What are you doing? You've been staring at that guy for hours! Hes gonna notice!" She whisper shouts at me
I roll my eyes.
Hours pass. I still glance over at that guy every now and then. He looks so perfect, yet so normal. Most good looking guys I've met have this arrogant aura. They seem to think they're so much better than everyone else. Not him. He seems humble.
I walk back to the kitchen. My aunt is offering out drinks. She knows I bartend to earn some money while I'm here, so she passes me a huge platter of beer bottles, and asks me to go around offering them out. She passes me another two trays. Now I have one on my left hand, I'm holding that one above my head, and two on my right arm. One on my hand, the other on my forearm. I come waltzing into the living room. It's a trick I learned years ago when I was a waitress in Canada. If you waltz evenly, you dont bob up and down as much, and you look 100 times more graceful.
I bring my friend a beer, then I offer them to the rest of the room. The tray is now off balanced because I've been handing out beer, and I have to waltz carefully so they don't fall. I walk through the doorway to the dining room, and some guy darts in front of me. He knocks the tray of beer bottles out of my right hand. Thankfully there was only one on that tray. But he did knock me over.
It was as though the whole thing was happening in slow motion.

They tray goes flying
I start falling
The bottle of beer is going to land on my head

I brace myself for the glass to shatter on my head as I hit the floor.

I feel an arm grab my wrist and a hand catch the bottle of beer

Its him.