So maybe your life is in shambles and you run away to London to get your head straight. Sure, you don't really have a plan but the Universe does, and before you know it, some kid from Kingston has completely turned your world upside and your body i...
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"What the hell is in here?" Tom asked, giving a grunt as he set your beach bag down.
"Um... just some light reading?" you shrugged, taking a seat on the chaise.
"Light reading?!" he laughed, pulling out a giant hardcover book about as thick as your left thigh. He turned it over, reading it aloud, "Procedure and Private International Law," then looked up at you smirking, "Sounds exhilarating!"
You grabbed it out of his hand and rolled your eyes.
"Shut your face. I have a shit ton of reading and research to do for the next three years, so I figured I'd get started."
"Is that a metric shit ton or...?" Tom said, smiling.
You pulled your sunglasses over your eyes and gave him the finger. He laughed and parked himself on the chaise next to you.
"I only joke because I'm intimidated by your brilliance."
"My brilliance, eh?" you pulled your glasses down and eyed him. He winked in response.
"It's going to be hard work," you sighed, "Law school nearly killed me. But, I also had other things going on..."you trailed off, thinking of the sleepless nights and that bastard Jason.
"Besides," you continued, glancing over at him, "everyone wants to marry a doctor, right?" you chuckled and then it was like your ears caught up to your mouth, and they heard what you said, and then your brain was like, What, Bitch? and you went into DEFCON 1.
You slunk down on the chaise and buried your face in your book. Maybe he didn't catch that. Maybe he didn't even hear you. Maybe he was looking right at you. Yeah, he's looking right at you, wasn't he? Shit.
"Y/N...", Tom said.
"Shut up," you said, your cheeks burning as you slunk even lower.
"What did I..." he leaned over. You could see him out of the corner of your eye, his face crinkled in confusion. You were mortified that your lips would betray you in such a way.
You threw your book down and stood up quickly.
"I'm going in the water," you said quickly and practically flew across the sand.
"What the fuck, Y/N," you muttered to yourself, dipping your feet in the water. It was calm and warm, like bath water. You waded out farther until you were waist high the floated for a while, eyes closed, listening to waves lap against the shore.
Just relax, you overthink everything. Harry's words floated in your head. Yeah, he was right. You do overthink everything. I don't want to marry Tom, you thought. I don't want to marry anyone, ever again.
You were nearly convincing yourself of that when someone grabbed you by the waist and started dragging you through the water.
Your instinct was to start kicking and fighting against whatever had a hold of you. Their hold only got tighter.
"Y/N, what are you doing this far out?!" Tom had a hold of you, his voice was full of worry. You opened your eyes and saw just how far you had floated from the shore line. He was pulling you back, fighting against the tide.
"Shit..I'm sorry. I just zoned out or something," you clung to him, piggyback like, as he made his way back to the beach.
"Why couldn't you wait for me anyway?" he said, cutting through the waves with each broad stroke or his arms.
"I thought...," you said kicking against the water. You thought what, Y/N? You thought he would freak out about the "M" word? He didn't even hear you.
The shoreline was getting closer. You clung to him still, even though you really didn't need his help. You were probably a better swimmer than him, spending every summer at Rockaway Beach during your youth.
"I'll wait for you" you said, maybe a little too sadly and with more meaning than you intended. No matter how much you tried to push it away, the ever constant thought that he would be leaving you soon always seemed to surface. He's going to be gone, for a while, and you'll be left waiting.
Suddenly, you felt the seafloor beneath your feet. You stood up, a bit wobbly at first but held onto Tom to steady yourself.
"And Y/N?," he lifted your chin, "You can stop freaking out about the marriage thing. I know it's not something you ever want to do again. It's okay," he said, giving you a quick kiss before turning to wade back to the beach.
He did hear you.
You watched him walk away, trying to form some words of protest. To tell him, No, you're wrong! You're so, so wrong. But he had already made his way back to your things and you just stood there, in your Ariel bikini, feeling like an idiot and just wanting to be Dr. Holland.
