Limerence (Tom Hiddleston fanfiction)

Chapter 16

I was untying my shoelaces when I heard someone at the door. I had just gotten back from my jog, I hoped I didn't look too sweaty. I thanked the doorman and only studied the letter closely when I got to my room. I laid on my bed, unfolding the white piece of paper. There were tear stains on the front and I suddenly felt my heart sink - it was from Scarlett. 

Tom, I am writing this letter with a heavy heart. 

On the day of the event, Daniel showed up at my apartment. It was right before you got there so I asked him to talk the day after. We met for coffee and he told me that he still loved me and left Jacqueline. He had tried to book a flight ticket two weeks earlier but couldn't get one until yesterday. I, with all my heart, knew that had he arrived two weeks earlier would have wanted nothing more than to be with him, but I couldn't tell him that I wanted him with all my heart, because that was no longer my heart's one and only desire. I know that we have only known each other for just over a week, but the last few days with you have been exceptional and I've started falling for you and I'm scared to get hurt - but more so, to hurt you. I don't know the magnitude of your feelings for me, but I know you also feel something for me. That is why I'm writing this letter - very inarticulately - letting you know that I'm leaving Paris for a few days. I need some time to clear my head and listen to my heart. 

Scarlett 

I grabbed my phone and dialled her number - voicemail. Shit! I called the front desk and asked if they knew where she was going if she had said anything - nothing. I lay back - feeling my chest compress with rage and fear. Unwelcome tears running down my cheeks. I felt the black monster stir somewhere deep inside me. My jealousy and insecurity filling the veins inside my body with fire coals of heat. How dare he come here and try and get her back? How dare he ruin everything that we had going. Was he with her? Where the hell did she go? I felt my head throb and I called a cab, hoping to catch her before she left her apartment - but when I got there she had already gone. I slammed the door as I stood hopelessly in the hall unable to find her and tell her how I feel. Tell her to choose me. I felt furious that she had even spoken to him. I knew that I was acting foolishly and completely ungentlemanly as I stormed out of the apartment building and started running down the street. The heels of my feet barely touching the ground. I ran and ran. 

 I had known something like this would happen. I knew that happiness like that wasn't sustainable. I wasn't meant to be the happy guy in a relationship with the woman I love. I was the lonesome tragic hero doomed to be alone. I was the epitome of a tragic Shakespearean character - sure of what I want but never able to obtain or reach it. 

I finally reached a park bench and leap down onto it, breathing hoarsely and wiping the sweat from my brow, streams stinging my eyes. I wasn't sure if my eyes were running or if I was weeping. I didn't know what to do except sit there in the dark with a streetlamp dimly lit a few meters from me. I stared into the darkness, pondering the vast nothingness. 

I should have told her yesterday that I wanted her to be known as my girlfriend, but that I simply did it to protect her from the media and because I had wanted to ask her, but felt it was way too soon. If she only knows the magnitude of my feelings for her, she might have made a different decision, but because of my own fears and insecurities - I might just lose her to him. 

I'm so mad at her for leaving without saying goodbye. I had no idea where she was or how long she'd be there. I sighed. 

She is there, and there doesn't know how lucky it is. 

I don't know what came over me, I was overthrown by my own anger. I felt hopeless and terrified at the thought of losing her - even though she wasn't mine yet, I would feel a deep and mortifying loss if I were to simply become a stranger to her. 

A dalliance in Paris. 

The thought made me sick to my stomach. I had unveiled so much of myself to her, something I didn't take lightly. I got up, my limbs feeling as if they had been filled with cement and jogged back to the hotel. 

I dialled her again, and finally - the phone rung. 

"Hello?" I heard her angelic voice and the sound of it already calmed me down.

"Scarlett. Where are you? Why did you leave without saying goodbye? You didn't give me a chance to speak to you properly and then you tell me over a letter that your ex showed up! And your leaving! Where the hell are you?" she was silent for a moment when she spoke her voice was trembling. Had I yelled at her? 

"I'm on the plane, we're about to take off. I'm going home for a few days, I'm sorry, I, I'm really sorry," What are you sorry for? And why are you on a plane! I felt my blood begin to boil.

"Is he with you?" I tasted that thought on my tongue with a bitterness.

"What? No." Good.

"I can't believe you saw him. I'm so disappointed, I don't know what to say except that I'm furious."

"Tom, I,"

"Scarlett, I wish you had just spoken to me before getting on a plane and leaving." I rub my eyes and sigh. "How long is your flight?"

"About, twelve hours." I sigh, that'll mean it will be about 11am here when she lands. 

"I'll call you when you land. Be safe." she sighs, and I feel a pain in my gut.

"I will, Tom, I really am sorry. Bye." and just like that, she's gone. 

I looked at the tickets to Rome on my dresser. I had wanted to surprise her with a romantic getaway. Just us. Suddenly what I had to do became perfectly clear. 

I need to get my ass to South Africa. If you're going to be in love you might as well do some romantic gesture. Me, showing up and surprising her seemed like my best chance at winning her heart. I called Luke and we organized the whole thing within a matter of minutes. I would still have two weeks with her in Rome before I had to be in London. The people at RADA contacted me over a month ago, requesting we stage the second showing of Hamlet - since the first show had only had a certain number of tickets. If all went well I would hopefully be able to take her with me. 

I felt ashamed for my outburst over the phone, I never lost my composure like that - it seems she brings out the best and worst in me. 

I pack my bags and head downstairs to the bar. I had two drinks. Sitting at the end of the bar, feeling my head throb with anger, but seep to a deep darkness. I wanted to confront him. I wanted to tell him how idiotic he was for letting her slip away the first time. I knew why I felt so angry at him - they had a history, and we had none. He stood a chance to win her back - when she had spoken of him on the boat that day I could see that she still harboured feelings for him. How deep those feelings might be, I couldn't say. I just knew that what I had begun to feel had reached down into places that I hadn't even known existed. 

She stirred something in my old soul and youthful heart. I felt I could be both with her, the realist philosopher and the optimistic child. She understood the diversity and made sense of it. Perfect sense. It is an extraordinary thing in this life, to meet someone who you can bare your soul to, for al long time I've been so aware of the minutes of my life ticking by that I did everything I could to fill it up with meaningful experiences. But even so, I had never truly given my heart or loved someone with the ferocity and passion that I knew I wanted - but her, I felt like I could finally begin. So this was it - I had to win her heart. 

They say Brits make the best romantics, well this Englishman still believes in chivalry and the sentiment that - a faint heart never yet won a fair lady.