In His Eyes

What did I do?

Work.  Why, oh, why did it have to get in the way of her non-existent social life? She was happiest with her books and her tv series and her addiction to cheesy chickflicks. Yes, Beth Williams, Superwoman, hard-nosed financial trader, loved a good Rom Com. 

Tonight was no exception. She'd hurtled home from work at a rate of knots and rushed up the steps carrying a chinese takeaway from the little place next to the tube station.  Now, clad in comfy clothes and munching said takeaway, she was neck deep in Notting Hill.

She was just coughing her fried rice at Rhys Ifans in his underpants all over again, when the doorbell rang.

"Awwww, buggermuffins!" She groaned and pressed pause. Sticking her fork into her remaining dinner, she plodded to the door carrying her plate. Hopefully, that would give whoever a nice big hint to sod off and let her eat in peace.

"Hello?" She called through the little gap in the safety chain. "Can I help you?" She tried to see who it was, but because she'd forgotten to replace the outside lightbulb, she couldn't see.

"Hi, erm, hi. I just wanted, erm, to erm, say welcome to the street." The voice was cultured but not stuffy.  There was a familiar quality to it.

She rolled her eyes inwardly. God, that's all she needed. A nosy neighbour checking to see if she'd lower the tone of the area. Putting her plate down on the hall table, she took a breath and shut the door, opening it again off the chain.

"Hi. Thanks , that's very...." she looked out at the figure, now picked out by the hall light, and her voice died.

"Nice? Kind? Bloody annoying?" He smiled down at her, and she nodded mutely.

"Y-you - you're - him. You're TOM!" She almost shouted in pure shock, "Tom Hiddleston! Fucking hell!" She stood and gawped, resplendent in cat onsie, pink fluffy socks and an expression more akin to a rabbit in headlights than a human being.

"Yes, 'fraid so love! Guilty as charged." He seemed completely unfazed by her mental breakdown. He waited for a second, and when she continued to stare, he laughed. "Perhaps I should come back when you've worked out how to breathe again?" He winked, and she snapped out of her stupor with an embarrassed squeal.

"Oh dear GOD!" She covered her eyes with her hands. "Please, sorry, yes, come in ?" She stepped back, and as she did so caught sight of herself in the glass panel next to the door.  Oh, for God's SAKE, what did she look like.

She had actual Tom Hiddleston in her house, and she resembled nothing so much as an overgrown Teletubby.

"Thanks, love, but I have some work to do.  I just wondered if you'd like to meet for a coffee tomorrow? Perhaps 11 am. at the little cafe on Henry Street?"

She nodded, completely forgetting in her stupor, tomorrow was a work day.

"Great, see you then.....?" He smiled and waited.

"Yes?" She hesitated, what had she forgotten apart from pretty much how to exist.

"Might I be permitted to know your name? Just so I dont have to call you "Miss Kittykat" the whole time?" He winked at her and she expired on the spot.

"Oh! Beth! Beth Williams." She managed to squeak.

"Well Oh Beth Williams, I look forward to it. See you then!"  He raised a hand in acknowledgement and trotted back down the steps.  "Night love." And he disappeared back along the street.  She watched, mouth open as he walked into his own garden and up to his door.

To her amazement, if she had any capacity left, he paused and looked back.  He smiled and waved then, without waiting, went inside.  The street returned to an almost silent and dark cocoon.

Almost silent, except for the repeated noise of someone wishing they were dead.

As Beth closed the door and leaned against it, she shut her eyes and groaned.  What on EARTH had she just done?   Tom Effing Hiddleston had just appeared at her door, asked her to coffee, and all she had done was swear and squeak. 

"Way to go, Beth!" She murmured as she wandered back through to the living room. "He's going to think you're either mental or.... no. He's going to think you're mental."

She plopped down onto the sofa and picked up the remains of her meal.  Stabbing the chicken, she pressed play on the remote.  Oh well, it could've been worse she consoled herself, you couldve been wearing....

She looked down and groaned. Oh yeah, that's right she WAS wearing....

Tom walked across the street, feeling surprisingly anxious. He'd watched for her coming back with more anticipation than he'd had for a while. 

A couple of false alarms later, he'd finally seen her disappearing into the flat with what looked like a takeaway. He'd waited as long as he could, which to he honest, wasn't long, then walked over.

Standing at the door, he could see the flicker of the TV on her blinds.  He wondered what she was watching.  Was she a comedy girl? Nature programmes? Current affairs? He wondered if she would even recognise him. 

He didn't have to wonder for long.

"Hello?" The disembodied voice floated out. "Can I help you?" She sounded suspicious, maybe even slughtly irritated. He guessed it might just be his fault!

Hi, erm, hi. I just wanted, erm, to erm, say welcome to the street." He found suddenly his tongue didn't belong to him. What was going on? She was going to think he was a simpleton.

He needn't have worried.

By the time he'd spoken to her - or rather AT her - he realised they were about as inept as each other. At least he had proper clothes on! 

The conversation had been hilariously embarrassing for them both. He only hoped she would see it that way over their morning coffee. He found her fascinating and yet open and unassuming in equal measure.

Her reaction, whilst maybe jystca little more extreme than he was used to, wasn't unusual. Even her cursing at him wasn't anything he hadn't heard before. 

Mute amazement was ok for a first meeting. He just hoped she would be a little more communicative in the light of day.

As he shut his front door and leaned against it, he realised that if he was going to go for coffee with anyone, it might as well be a mute 5' cat with beautiful greeny-blue eyes.

He walked to his window without putting the light on. He stood for a minute, watching the tv start to flicker again. She was an enigma. One he hoped to solve.

At that moment, his phone rang.  Jumping slightly, he picked up.  "Hello?"

"Only me! I was just wondering if you got ten minutes for a chat..." Luke's voice broke through the fog in his brain.

"Yes, yes, of course. What can I do for you?"

With a final look out the window, he closed the blinds and turned on his table lamps.  Flopping into the sofa, he smiled. "So which pound of flesh do you need tonight then Slave Driver..."