You woke early to get in a decent run before a full day of meetings. At the very least three miles, and there is a renowned, beautiful park nearby your hotel. You'd run there before, a vast open area of bountiful and meticulous flowers in spring, long and winding paths, scattered ponds full of waterfowl, all surrounded by acres of green space. It is quintessentially London, and it is perfect. As you tied the laces of your Asics trainers before heading out of your hotel room door, you thanked the gods that your job frequently took you to your favorite city in the world. It was the only thing you enjoyed about what you did, and the sole reason why you still held the position.
Rain began to fall not long after you set out. You wondered if the delicate, thin fabric of your yoga pants and short sweat-jacket over a tank-top would be enough to keep you warm should the rain grow colder and begin to fall harder. These things were typically unpredictable in London.
You noticed right away at this early hour of just short of 6AM there were not many runners or otherwise active sorts out and about in the park. The sun had only partially risen, obscured by clouds, and you briefly pondered the thought that running alone might be risky. But you shook off any hesitation and decided to begin your determined run, starting your paces at a corner entry of the park.
As soon as you set off, the rain started coming down in a deluge. "No worries," you told yourself — if you couldn't begin a day with a worthy bout of rigorous exercise, you'd otherwise be crawling out of your skin — and you landed your trainers step by step onto the pavement below you.
Almost immediately, the rain turned into sheets and you could barely see the path beneath your feet and in front of you. As you thought you might be turning a corner, a sudden SLAM of another body, chrome and steel knocked you clear off your feet and onto the pavement, so hard it scraped your thin pants off the edges of your hips and ground your right side down onto the concrete.You looked forward at whomever had hit you, and you watched him cycling quickly away on a mountain bike, not even bothering to pause or to look back to see if you were okay, when he had to have been clearly aware he'd collided his bicycle into someone.
The hit knocked the wind out of you. You gathered yourself into a sitting position and breathed heavily. Your right side was in such pain that you hardly noticed the downpour anymore. As you wondered how serious the injury might be to your hip, you heard measured, running footsteps coming closer, and then a shadow darkened above you.
"My dear, are you all right? I saw the collision from just over there," the voice of the approaching stranger said, pointing to a trail point across the park. He kneeled down over you, his head cloaked in a black sweat-jacket hood, and he hovered his hand closely above your right hip, just short of touching you.
"I think I'm okay...a biker knocked me down during my run...I might just have a bad road rash on my right side," you responded, running one of your hands down the side of you in question. You attempted to stand, and the pain was excruciating.
"Ahhggh!" you cried out as you tried to push yourself to a standing position, and the stranger's arm was there to support you no matter which way your body turned in its grimacing agony.
Blazing in the searing pain, you took a moment to look at the caring stranger's face, and a dizzying somersault in the pit of your stomach almost completely befell you as you realized the benevolent gentleman assisting you was none other than Tom Hiddleston.
Tom. Fucking. Hiddleston.
You weren't a full-fledged fangirl...you didn't have the time for that sort of thing...but you were aware of who he was, and he'd occupied a top spot in your "I So Would" file since you watched that Avengers movie last summer. You remembered not quite understanding why everyone had cheered The Hulk when he smashed down Loki, calling him a "puny god"...you still couldn't make sense of why that scene had hurt your heart as much as it did, but it had stayed with you, for whatever reason.
