London // A Tom Holland Fan Fiction

2- Swept Off My Feet

That morning I woke up in such a start. My whole body was aching due to the awkward position I had fallen asleep in, vaguely remembering my book shelf falling down half way through the night, throwing 30+ books to the ground with a thud, miraculously not waking anyone. I rolled over to grab my phone and check the time: 10:45, which I deemed the perfect time to get my lazy arse out of bed and go for a run. On our way here, I had noticed a large green space about 10 minutes away and decided that it would be a nice place to go for my morning jog. I quickly changed into my gym gear; grey shorts and a baggy pink crop top, Nike trainers. I made my way down stairs whilst I brushed my hair and shoved it up into a high pony tail, not caring how it looked. I brushed my teeth and grabbed my phone. Making it out the door within 10 minutes. Record time I do believe.
The sun was shining and the birds were chirping their happy songs, but I decided that I needed something a little more motivational, so I plugged in my headphones and pressed shuffle. Rock music blaring through my headphones, my legs pacing at a decent speed, I arrived at the park. I came to the decision that in order to make friends I would have to put myself out there, and try. So I scanned the park, looking for girls my own age who may want to be my gym buddy but there was none. It's almost as if they didn't believe in fitness but rather shopping and designer shoes. Just a normal 18 (nearly 19) year old girl, right? Wrong. I'm not like that at all, I am a healthy girl with a large amount going for her. I repeated this over and over, almost like a chant in my head. Encouraging me to push harder, run faster. Within seconds I was full on sprinting across the field. That's when I was hit.
I was practically thrown to the floor, I was completely oblivious to what had happened until I saw this figure running towards me. The closer he got the clearer I was beginning to see, he was a man. Probably about 20 or something. I sat on the muddy grass for a few seconds before he grabbed me under he armpits and hauled me up to standing.
"Are you okay?!" He asked over and over, a sense of urgency ringing through his voice.
"Yes," I began. "I'm okay"
I said, very monotonous, still unsure of what had happened. He must have sensed it as he looked at me endearingly,
"My dog ran into you, I'm so sorry.." he trailed off, begging me to forgive him and 'Tessa' whom I assumed to be his dog, the blue staffie that sat at his feet. I assured him that everything was alright and that I was okay, but that's when he suddenly yelled,
"Bloody hell you're bleeding!" I looked down at my forearm which I must've scraped on the ground, it was indeed gushing blood. I looked back up at him as if to say 'what do I do?' But he was one step a head of me and had already removed his shirt and was binding my arm up tightly. He crouched down to my level and looked me in the eyes,
"Do you live far from here?" He asked me. I shook my head, no,
"About a 10 minute run." I set off walking away from him, not really sure how to act when he piped up from behind me
"C'mon Tess. We can't let the lady walk home injured now, can we?"
And just like that, he jogged after me. Tessa aimlessly wandering ahead of us, we talked until we got to my doorstep. "Thank you for such a pleasurable morning" I joked.
"Pleasures all mine" he chuckled, then his face fell flat,
"Is your arm okay?" He was so sincere. I pulled off the makeshift bandage and looked at my wound, which was no more then a graze, really.
"It's fine, I'll wash your shirt.. Will you be at the park tomorrow?" I asked him, praying his blood covered shirt could be an excuse to meet again.
"Yeah, I'll be walking Tessa at about 11, I'll see you then?" He beamed, awkwardly standing on my doorstep as I unlocked the door.
"I'll see you tomorrow then, Mr..?" I stopped. I knew his dog better then I knew him.
"Tom" he spoke, "Tom Holland." He, Tom, smiled at me with teeth this time. Revealing his amazing smile.. I was transfixed.
"And you are?" We stood in silence for a few milliseconds before bursting into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
"Jessica Smith" I told him.
"Well, Jessica" he started as he walked away from my house..
"Until tomorrow, goodnight" he walked away. I held my breath, then relaxed. "Tom wait!" I hollered, he turned to face me,
"Do you know how to fix shelves?" I giggled. He nodded his head and walked back to my front door.