Just Like That

Part 20

The entire panel you both refrained from texting one another, even if the desire was ever so present. So close and yet unable to communicate. You had a bit more freedom to stare at Tom, especially when he began to talk. He was so animated, lively–passionate. If it were possible to love him any more, your heart would have easily achieved such a feat. The only moments you were pulled for your euphoric gaze was when Tom stole a glimpse at you, a warmth radiating off of him.

It was such sweet agony to sit through the hour-long panel, soaking him in. You hadn't even noticed the shift in the crowd as the moderator called out, "That's about all we have time for." To which the majority of the audience made an audible sound of disappointment. Neither you nor Tom looked in the least bit sad, however. Of course, Tom kept it polite, not once seeming as though he was literally counting down the minutes until he could get you backstage.

You hadn't planned the next move. Originally, Tom was supposed to have arrived earlier. A calm meeting. A chance to pull yourself together during the panel. Yet now? Now, you two had snuck glances at one another in the middle of hundreds of people. Nothing calming about that.

As the actors gave their final waves, Anthony and Sebastian making some joke about the parties this weekend, you were pulling out your phone in an effort to text Tom. Did he have a plan? He always had a plan—and if ever a plan was needed it was—

But as soon as they were off stage, the ballroom erupted in noise and commotion. People began shuffling about, eager to get to their next destination. You were a tad jostled about as you were herded down the row. "Excuse me, ma'am!" called out a woman dressed in all black and donning a headset. Very official.

Pushing against the crowd, the woman's repeated pointing towards you confirmed that she was trying to get your attention. When you finally got up close enough, it was clear she was flustered. A tight schedule likely didn't allow for her to play matchmaker. You couldn't find it in you to feel bad for her though.

"Follow me. It can get crazy back there," she shouted over the crowd, guiding you back towards a side door. All you could do was shift your purse around in front of you to somehow make the journey a bit easier. Somewhere between row one and the door, distance had formed between you and your guide.

As she entered the side entrance and her image was lost behind the steel, you felt as though you were intruding on the whole thing. At any point, you were fully prepared to be kicked out. In an effort to avoid the embarrassment, you quickened your pace, nearly running at the door.They'd have to catch you if they wanted to throw you out first.

However, fate had something more cruel. Upon opening the door in a rush, you threw yourself into the backstage area and directly against a torso. "Fuck me!" you swore, jaw having rammed into a very bony shoulder blade. The collision made you double over immediately, trying not to shout out too many obscenities for fear that may be the first thing Tom heard from you.

The owner of said shoulder blade let out a grunt of his own, obviously not expecting to be attacked by a full grown woman. "I'm sorry–," rubbing at his shoulder, though his apology seemed distracted. In a rush. "I need to–," he began, moving to try and go around you.

"You can wait!" a snap as you wanted the stranger to stay still long enough that you could get out of the way, rubbing at your jaw as you lifted back up to be face to face—or rather, face to chest with him.

He was all blue eyes and beard and jaw and urgency. His height took you by surprise, his sheer presence took your breath away. Slowly his urgency was replaced with understanding, opening his mouth to speak without the words forming.