Thomas Sangster & Newt Imagines

Personal assistant || TBS- part 3

My savings were almost over and I still couldn't find a proper job. That negative feedback affected me more than I thought.

I went home from my last interview, disappointed that even for a job in a local café I was asked about my "bad behavior towards customers." I opened the door to my small flat and saw an envelope on the floor. It must have been delivered while I was away. I bent down and took it, noticing it was no name written on it, only my name and my address.

I frowned and headed to the kitchen wanting to throw it away, but then curiosity won and until I reached the bin, I already opened it. As soon as I did, I realized it was from Thomas as it had a small piece of paper inside, among some money.

"Are you kidding me?", I mumbled when I saw everything.

I could have paid my rent for six months with all that money. I rolled my eyes and read the note he sent me:

You told me you have some problems paying your rent. I want to help you until you find a new job. Please accept the money and my apologies and do not hesitate to tell me if you need something; anything. Greetings, Thomas.

Great, me and my big mouth. I told him that to make him feel bad, not to make him a philanthropist over night. I needed the money so bad, but in the same time I would have looked weak and that was something I didn't want; not in front of him.

I sighed and put the money back in the envelope, along with the note. I pulled out my phone and sent him a quick text: Come and get your money, I don't want them. He replied five minutes after: Fine, on my way.

I put my phone down on the countertop and changed my clothes in something comfy before starting to do some cleaning.

Thomas arrived half an hour later, which was surprisingly fast, knowing he was living on the other side of London.

"I was on my way to yours anyway", he responded at my unspoken question.

"Is that so?"

"Let's just say I know you better than you think."

He gave me a slight smile while I stepped away from the threshold waiting for him to come inside.

"What are those?", I asked pointing at some bags he was carrying.

"Oh", he said, "I brought some seafood and a bottle of wine on my way here. You know...while we talk."

He went to the kitchen, looking so confident on his words.

"Seafood?", I repeated.

"Yes, isn't this your favorite food?"

I frowned and folded my arms, giving him a confused look.

"I asked you to come to get your money, nothing more", I explained.

He looked hurt and his jaw dropped.

"I know, but I wanted to talk. Please!"

I sighed at his pleading tone and took a seat near the countertop where he was preparing the food.

"Ten minutes", I agreed. "Now talk."

He smiled and opened the bottle of wine, pouring some in 2 glasses.

"Red wine, as you like", he handed me one. "Cheers!"

I nodded at that and took a sip. It was good, really good. Thomas always had good taste in wine. He looked at me and smirked when the flavor exploded inside my mouth.

"This is a very good wine Thomas, thank you."

I felt my muscles relaxing as I watched him spicing the food and lighting a cigarette after that, deeply inhaling the smoke. I've missed watching him doing little things like those in a calmly manner, taking all the time in the world.