Because You're Mine (A Tom Hiddleston Fanfic) #Wattys2016 #pfcc2k16

Chapter Thirty-Two: Fixing Some Things.

                  

"You're dating Tom Hiddleston!?"

I uncomfortably shift in my chair, looking at the people around us and making sure that no one else has heard Lucia's outburst. Apparently, everyone seems way too preoccupied with their own food and conversations so I think I am safe. Be that as it may, I gave her a scolding glance and I drive my index finger to my lips, urging her to keep her voice down.

"Sorry..." she says with a shrug and a coy smile, "You're dating Tom Hiddleston?" she repeats with a whisper, making me laugh.

"Well, dating is a strong word. To be honest, I don't know what we're doing right now" I take my last bite of my Greek salad.

I can't exactly pin point what is it about this girl that makes me pour my heart and mind out to her. Perhaps is the smooth way her voice flows, so calm and welcoming, or maybe is the warmth her personality exudes. Whatever it is, by the time we leave the restaurant behind, she has already been fully informed about my relationship with Tom to the last detail; from our very first encounter to the moment where it all started to dramatically circle the drain.

At this point, with my phone insisting on being so mockingly inactive, I am starting to believe that the metaphorical gutter has already swallowed us entirely.

When I woke up this morning I felt as exhausted as I was when I went under the night before. Of course, it didn't come as a shock because I had the most restless sleep, crowded with weird dreams I couldn't actually remember when I opened my eyes. All I knew is that I had them and there was something haunting me.

"I can't believe he didn't contact you after that... He must be going crazy" she says when we are making our way through the crowded intersection that is Times Square. Her voice is raised because of the noise coming from the cars and the murmurs of hundreds of people crossing Broadway Avenue along with us.

There is so many pedestrian traffic right now; I think we would be pushed all the way to the other side of the street even if we stopped walking. Is like a fucking human rip tide.

"Maybe... If he cared" I say matter-of- factly. And I feel a shiver run down my spine because of how casual I just sounded.

And that's when it hits me. And it feels as if I was run over by all of the cars rolling down the avenue. Maybe that's the real reason why I haven't heard a thing from him. Perhaps is not that the transatlantic connections are terrible, or that his phone has drowned in an ashtray filled with beer on the counter of a sordid bar where he went to drink my message out of his mind...

I look down at my phone, which I haven't been able to put away all morning, and when I check that it is almost two in the afternoon and no new notifications have arrived, I finally let myself go down that hole.

Maybe he just doesn't care anymore. Maybe, after hearing my stupid and arrogant message, he simply decided he had enough from me and my rubbish.

What did I want to accomplish with that call, anyway? What was my chaotic little mind's reasoning behind such obvious and pointless instigation? Was it just like that night at the club when I knew that, deep in my heart, I just wanted him to come get me and fix things up, or did I really want to fuck them beyond any possible repair? Either way, I pulled the trigger with that one.

And I still don't know if I hit the bullseye, or if the gun backfired and shot me right in the face. 

Maybe you should cut the crap, stop with the goddamn metaphors for screwing things up, get it together and make up your mind once and for all. Or learn to live with the consequences...