❝ HE'S PSYCHOTIC, OBSESSIVE, AND MY WORST NIGHTMARE.
OF COURSE, I'M THE ONE HE CHOOSES ❞
[ DARK!TOM HIDDLESTON AU]
[ TEACHER!TOM HIDDLESTON AU ]
[ BOOK ONE IN "THE NEFARIOUS" SERIES ]
[ ORIGINALLY...
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PERHAPS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING, but I can confirm that teenagers are addicted to their technology. That being said, I'm just as guilty as the next teen. I don't say this with resentment considering I try my hardest not to be a hypocrite, but also the possibilities of endless exploration there is with the abundance of apps and news articles and knowledge at the touch of a thumb. Communication has never been easier and accessible, arguably the most convenient part of the rapidly changing technology.
A vibration draws my attention to a phone screen and I'm quick to punch my thumbs into the keyboard.
I'm mostly just a combination of spunk and faux confidence with an interest in horror-writing sprinkled in. Kind of a weirdo, if you ask me
Not to mention, the easy line of communication can be absolutely exciting.
Trust me, I wouldn't mind amping up your confidence by listening to the gruesome details, weirdo
There's a smile that tugs at the corners of my lips as I read the text, my fingers instantly going to work on a quick reply.
For the past week, the boy who texted me during my fourth period English class has been in my pocket at all times. The so-called Thomas has not failed to disappoint in keeping me entertained and wanting to know more about him. There's plenty in common, but even if there wasn't a lick of similarities, the way his wit projects in texts and the acceptance of my blunt or sarcastic remarks is enough to keep me enthralled. I can't figure out what motive Thomas has in keeping me helplessly anticipating his responses, if there is one at all. In all honesty, I can't help but lean towards the idea that he was in need of a friend, and I just so happened to be that person. Against my better judgement, I don't mind being a shoulder to lean on, and I think he hasn't been put off by any of my long-winded rants or random bursts of exuberant blurbs.
It's almost too perfect.
Despite my unabashed openness, I am not blind to the necessity of precaution. I don't need to remind myself (nor do I like to) that Thomas might not even be the Thomas that has been painted for my imagination. He could be named Jerry or Sue or literally anything else. I don't know what he looks like, how old he is, or if I can believe a word he tells me. While there has been a good amount of fun from our conversations, there's just as much mystery. Maybe that's why I can't put my phone down, or maybe it's too easy to ignore the warning signs of an addiction.
