LIBBY FRENCH
march 24th 2019
12:45 AM
so, i agreed to go on a mysterious date with a stranger, who should be arriving at my house in around three minutes. i had agreed to go on a date with a stranger. well he was a rather charming stranger.
there was a soft knock on the red wooden door, it startled me slightly as the whole building had be quiet, pardoned by my loud thoughts. i had left my spot on the kitchen counter and left to open my front door- peeping through the whole, my porch light illuminating the face of this stranger who was engrossed in his phone.
he looked oddly familiar, i have to admit. he also looked nothing like the man i have been talking with. i opened the door slightly to peer through the gap. "you're not here to kill me are you?" he looked up at the gap and smiled at me.
"if you are- please hold on for a few hours, i have a date." the most beautiful chuckle left the base of his throat as he also peered through the gap.
"well, sadly not, i'm not here to kill you." he looked towards me with a unknown look in his eyes- amusement maybe, i'm not sure.
"oh sorry- that's good, i appreciate your sentiment, mark? is it?" i was trying to act normal, i swear. he nodded, although hesitant, he nodded; i opened the door wider for him to enter, "if you want to come in, i can make you a cup of tea? coffee? beer?" okay i was nervous, quite nervous.
"a beer would do quite nicely, thank you."
ooh, he was polite, why did i have to meet this handsome and perfect mother fucker on the day i was set to die. this world really has it out for me.
when i had returned from the kitchen with two beers in my hand and a bottle opener in the other i spotted mark browsing through the book shelf in the corner.
"you write." he muses while running his fingers over a spine of my latest book.
"i try." i corrected him, it's true, outside of my boring office job i tried my hardest to dabble in the art of literature to try and boost my wage.
he took the beer from my hand and then looked at me as if he was having a mental debate in his mind. he then nodded his head at no one in particular, which was rather odd.
"my names not mark." oh, so i had let a random stranger into my house. i took a step back and looked at the stranger in front of me.
"i have to admit, mar- what ever your name is, you really don't look like the picture."
he laughed awkwardly at me, and i laughed awkwardly at him- it was definitely a awkward situation.
"my names tom." he stuck his hand towards me ready to shake. "tom hiddleston."
i grasped his hand firmly and shook it gently, "well, tom, tom hiddleston. i'm libby, libby french, nice to be graced with your presence?"
YOU ARE READING
eventually * HIDDLESTON
Fanfictionlibby and tom both have their countdown and are slowly anticipating their end. based off of the book 'they both die at the end' by adam silvera.
