Skye
Other girls would probably be extremely jealous of me, I reckon. Going to see the dashing mister Hiddleston at a little café must be a dream for hundreds if not thousands of girls. I am not jealous of me. Tom is Tom. Like Jamie is Jamie. They are human beings, not superstars. But I can't help but feeling a little uneasy. He is after all Tom Hiddleston for fucks sake. No, he is Tom. Tom... Jamie... I feel like I am doing something I shouldn't be. It's not like this is a date. If it is illegal for me to see other guys casually - which means as friends - somebody must be soft in the head. This is not a date after all, I'll be fine.
Tom sits at the very back of the small café with his back to the front door, dark blue hood turned up against prying eyes. He has told me this over a text. And it turns out to be quite true. If he hadn't told me I would not have known it was him. The coffee place is like any other in town, filled with wooden floors and furniture in warm red colours. The pleasant smell of coffee hovers in the air. I walk over and tap him on his shoulder.
"Tom?" I ask as he turns a big smile on his face. He stands up to give me a hug warm hug, like we're old friends and not just rescue buddies or something. I roll with it. People are pretty damn friendly here in Hollywood for some reason. Hugs and kisses all around! It just came with the territory it seems.
"Hey Skye," he say. If possible his damn voice is even sexier in person; the thing is practically dripping with testosterone for god's sake. I have my arms wrapped around his neck; he has to crane down for me to do so. He is a little taller than Jamie, but he seems a lot bigger than him. Mostly because he doesn't have the habit of slouching as Jamie does. Tom stands up tall, exactly like he owns the damn place. Who knew I could be so right without intending to? It seems, he does parade around town like he owns it.
We sit down and the drowsiness of pleasant easy conversation takes over. No stress. No drama. He tells me about the scandalous life in Hollywood, and how it is absolutely crucial to go home once in a while, find ones roots again. We talk about our perspective theatre experiences. He has been a lot more successful in his life than I had been in mine. He actually has gone to Eaton. The best school in England for preppy self-centered young male specimen, though Tom hasn't turned out nearly as bad as some of them.
He also assures me, that a lot of the time it is the producer's fault that the movie turns out the wrong way. Not the actors. The producers market the movie the wrong way. Pace the show the wrong way. Choose the wrong ending or deviates to far from the books, which most movies now a day are based upon. But at times the fans are narrow-minded enough to blame it on the cast, though they have done the best job they could under the circumstances. After all it isn't just the actors making the pictures, there is a whole freaking crew of people behind it. The actors are just the faces. And on some level hearing him talk about it all, calms me. Like it isn't all bad. But I am still shifting in my seat at the thought of tomorrow. The start of shooting. Oh dear god. I am not sure anyone can be as excited as I am. I feel like I am going to vomit with excitement.
"We take off tomorrow..." I mutter, looking at my entwined hands on the table.
"First big set?" he asks a crooked smile on his face.
"Jup..."
"ehehe, thought so, you look like a ghost. Don't worry, you were hired for a reason after all" he smiles.
"Yeah, but they could still be the wrong ones.." my voice is low and worried, just like I feel.
"That's their problem, not yours. You just have to focus on the task at hand."
"I reckon..." I mumble, still feeling uneasy. Tom reaches out taking hold on my hands with his big warm one, squeezing it lightly.
"Hey, relax, and enjoy the ride, this is probably going to be the time of your life." he sends me a small smile, still holding his strangely comforting warm hands over mine. I nod agreeing, and send him a small smile. He is right. This probably is the ride of my life and I should enjoy it, instead of being crippled by anxiety, that isn't very helpful.
After hours of talking we pay the bill and get up to leave. People have started noticing Tom, so we decided to leave while it is still all fun and games.
"Where do you live?" he asks as we stand on the sidewalk outside the coffee shop. It is rather windy, and cooler than it was yesterday. The sun hidden between big puffy clouds, making only small squares of blue visible. Both Tom and I are wearing a light wind jacket, closed against the unpleasant winds.
"Just up the street," I answer, "it's a short walk from here."
He smiles, "I'll follow you home, God knows old granny would get a fit if I didn't." His smile turns into a crooked grin. I slap his arm laughing, but nod falling in to place beside him, as we walk towards my flat. After a short while I notice the looks we're getting from almost everyone around us. They're noticing Tom I reckon. Some are glancing awkwardly at him, others downright staring not bothering covering up their astonishment. Few are look at me too, probably noticing me from the latest gossip evolving around Jamie, Tom and myself. I tried shrugging off the looks. It is unnerving to have that many strangers staring at you. I unconsciously set up the pace.
"What are you sprinting from, Skye? You're not going to run again, are you?" I hear Tom suddenly ask from a few steps behind me.
"Oh, sorry," I say setting my pace down to normal human speed again, settling in beside him. He chuckles shortly. "I am sorry for that night you know," I say, suddenly realising I never properly apologized for my irrational behaviour that night, "it wasn't fair to you. You were just trying to help."
"Don't worry, Skye. You were practically out of you mind, I don't hold anything against you."
"Thanks," I mumble staring at the ground, "that night were bonkers," I look up. People are still sending glares in our direction, I notice out of the corner of my eye. Tom notices me looking around at the by-passers.
"I have seen them too," he tells me, "but I can't do much about them, but as long as no one approaches us we'll be fine."
I nod. People didn't stare when I was out with Jamie or the others. Or only very few did, at a rare occasion. This is something else.
"Here we are," I say as we stop in front of the flat. It's a tall concrete building painted a fainted yellow colour, balconies all the way up at each flat.
I take a step up the stairs to the street door, so I am - almost - in eyesight with Tom. He's got a strong face, all sharp lines and icy blue eyes. He is actually a beautiful man. Tal, lean looking. Very attractive. He is not pretty the way models are, he looks interesting like he have secrets and maybe you're worthy of knowing them. Okay, maybe beautiful is an overstatement, you have to know a person to call them beautiful. I had found Jamie beautiful before... yeah... let's not go there.
"Today was nice," I say smiling. I meant it. It is so easy with him. Like water we always found a way of keeping the conversation alive, without having a battle of wit, which it seemed to me Jamie and I always had. It was nice for a change. Yet I feel guilty. I have roaring confusing lusty feelings for Jamie and maybe I love him too, but all of that is clouded my hurt and surely also bad judgement. None of that applies to Tom. He feels like a dreamy distraction for my problems at home, a nice good-looking one.
"Yes, it really was. Who knew the girl you tackle can be so pleasant?" he jokes a glint in his blue eyes. I smile all of a sudden forgetting my worries in his too blue eyes.
"Shut up," I say playfully punching his shoulder, "I got back at you, didn't I? Did your shoes ever turn out okay after that trip through the shrubbery?"
A whole hearted laugh leaves him, "oh yeah, you owe me for those, now you mention it" he chuckles, moving closer. For some unknown reason I don't move way, a habit I guess, "No seriously, today was lovely," he continues with his deep rich voice, taking yet another step closer to me. I blush, I don't usually do that. Not the blushing kind of girl, but I do oddly enough.
"Yeah," I mutter, suddenly the scent of him hits me. Is he really that close? He smells like lemons and coffee, from the place we have just left. So clean. His body seems to be radiating warmth, so inviting. Then suddenly in one smooth motion he takes the hold of my face with his hand and delicately presses his lips to mine.
What? Why? Aaahh, that's a damn good kiss. Guilt, Jamie. Anger. Confusion.
His lips press softly against mine, but I stay still, not knowing whether to kiss him back or push ham away. My situation with Jamie is still fucked in my mind, though it might not be so for Jamie. Still I feel like I am cheating. But I am not officially with anyone. I just have this guy head over heels in love with me, who would die if he found out. Oh no... Somehow I had forgotten the people around us, the ones who knows Tom and who he is to the world. Fuck.
"Tom," I mumble against his lips, pushing him lightly away. I sound sad as I say, "I'm sorry, I can't." I want to kiss him for some reason, but I won't. Not now, while Jamie thinks I am ready to give us another chance. I am not ready for that again. I can't do that to him. I can't do to him, what he did to me. We need to be over, before I can act on my newly developed teenage hormones. I know I am stupid and probably shouldn't have gone to see Tom, but I had just wanted to be next to someone who for now is uncomplicated, a sweet distraction.
"No, it's me who should apologize, kissing you like that... It was very ungallant of me," he says, like true gentleman. That didn't help. It just made me want to snug him even more. For fucks sake. In a split second my mind developed the idea of threesome with this tall curly haired man in front of me and Jamie who still has me in the palm of his hand in that way. Let's just say if Jamie pressed me up against a door saying "I want to fuck you senseless," I probably wouldn't resist. My mind went wild and my blood pressure doubled. Oh dear god not now!
"No don't be, how can you know if I wanted to kiss you or not," I say shortly, trying not to scare him off totally. He is nice and handsome - understatement, he is fucking gorgeous and like Jamie I want to fuck his brains out. Okay, Skye stop with the sex or I will whoop your arse' I scold myself internally. I feel like hitting my head against the wall as the newly developed threesome played for my inner eye once again. Brain. Hormones. Stop. Now......... I SAID NOW!
"I could have asked you," he states a sad smile on his lips, "No matter. I'm sorry."
"No, don't be. It's not your fault," I reassure him.
"Can I ask why..?" he asks in a confused voice. It is a fair question I realise.
"I have some... issues... I need to sort out, before I can..." I wave my arms around trying to form coherent sentences. He nods as if he understands, looking down.
"See you around?" I ask quietly.
"Always," He says, giving me hug, inclosing me in his arms, before guiding his hands down my arm to squeeze my hand. Then he gives me a short smile and starts trotting down the street. I turn, charging up into the flat. I needed to give myself the relief I so obviously need.
A/N: care to share your feelings about this anybody..? the youtube video in the sidebar proofs Tom's sexy voice.
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