I got home to London that night and I found myself alone in the middle of the airport, thinking of how I was going to explain to Alice that I got fired.
It was pouring rain and I quickly got a taxi and went to my flat, a huge apartment at the top of the building with a stunning view over London Eye. I realized I had to find a new job if I wanted to keep paying the rent for it. I put my keys on the table and took a seat on my leather couch, running a hand through my dark long hair. I pulled out my phone from my pocket, trying to call Thomas but he didn't answer. I sent him a short message, telling him I was sorry and asking him to call me back. He never did.
**
Two months of searching for a good job got me in the situation of finding a new apartment, much cheaper and smaller than the previous one. The agency fired me on an instant after Thomas's complaints and they didn't want to recommend me to anyone, no matter how good my services were until then.
Their policy said that if a client complains about any of the agents or assistants, or they give a negative feedback, they will send an e-mail to all the PR agencies to warn them about our behaviour. The chances to find a new job in the same field would be so small that in the end you give up and try something else. They call this "motivation"; for us to be professionals.
My opinion? Bullshit! We are people and people make mistakes!
I was having a poor dinner sitting on the old sofa when I heard a soft knock at the door. I gulped and stood up, thinking that maybe it's the landlord again, coming for the rent I should have paid yesterday. But yesterday I had some groceries to buy and something to eat, so I remained with nothing for the day.
I heard the knock again and I aproached the door, opening it slowly. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw the tall blonde figure standing there.
"Thomas!", I said taken aback by his sudden appearance.
"Hi, Y/N", she said shyly and embarrased.
I watched him from head to toe, wondering how did he find me. He stared back and his lips were moving almost like he wanted to say something, but no sound came out.
"What are you doing here?" I asked him, suddenly being annoyed by his presence.
I folded my arms, waiting for his response. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair before start talking.
"Look, before you slam the door in my face, let me say sorry!"
I glared at him in disbelief, feeling like laughing. I shook me head and took a step back into the apartment. He tried to come in but I stopped him with my index finger pointing at his chest.
"Wait! I didn't say you can come in!"
He widened his eyes and stopped, not taking any step further.
"Oh, I'm sorry! I thought..." he mumbled but I cut him off short.
"Stop saying sorry already, will you?!"
My lips were a firm line and the sight of him made me so angry. He nodded and moved his eyes towards the floor.
"Then may I come in?"
"What for?"
"I wanted to talk...", he said. "But if it's not a good time I can come back...if you want me to."
"Why would I want that, Thomas? You weren't here when I needed to talk to you!" I raised my voice by now but he didn't complain about it. "I left you voice mails that night, do you remember?! You've never called! Now why would you be here after two months of silence?!"
YOU ARE READING
Thomas Sangster & Newt Imagines
FanfictionImagine requests are open. If you want me to write a certain imagine, just let me know and I'll do it as soon as possible. Until then, check out my ideas so far. These writings may contain smut, swearing, sometimes violence, but also fluff and anyt...