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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"Pay attention to me," you pouted, throwing a straw at Tom's nose, which had been buried in his phone the entire time.
"Sorry, darling, I've got so many emails and texts about this coming week. When are we landing? What meeting's when. Where we're rehearsing," he trailed on, placing his phone on the table and rested his chin on his palm.
"Sorry," he focused his eyes on you and slapped a sweet smile on his face.
"What were you saying,?" he asked.
You reached your hand across the table and took his.
"I said that when filming moves to New York, maybe I can come out to see you," you took a sip of your ridiculously ornate milkshake. This thing was like the Titanic of milkshakes and your waistline was just going to drown in it.
It was Tom's idea to come here, of course, because sugar. He had a sweet tooth after the gym. This thing was obscene, though. Only a 20 year-old man with the metabolism of a squirrel could get away with drinking this sort of thing and not hate themselves.
"I would love that!" he said, kissing your hand.
"Aaaaaand..."
"youcanmeetmymom," you said quickly, taking a big sip and looking out the window.
You could see Tom's smile falter out of the corner of your eye. You bit your lip to stifle a laugh. He looked stricken but tried to cover it up quickly. Not very well though.
"Yeah," he squeaked then cleared his throat, "Yeah definitely," then he sucked down the rest of his milkshake like some junkie with a bad habit. You watched him amused.
He grinned at you all proudly when his glass was empty, until his face started to crumple in anguish.
"Awww, fuuuuuuuuck," he groaned pressing his hands against his temples then banged his forehead on the table.
"Easy, Tiger, you don't want to freeze that precious brain of yours," you smirked, patting his hair.
"It does control all of your moving parts," you purred.
He looked up at you, hands clasped together like he was pleading.
"I think I'll be too brain damaged to meet your mother," he said with the most sincere tone that you burst out laughing. Nice try.
"I think you'll be just fine," you nodded reassuringly and stood to put on your jacket.
Tom sighed and stood too, grabbing your hand to pull you to him. He kissed you softly and brushed his thumb across your chin.
You smiled and ruffled his hair affectionately.
"Seducing me is not going to change anything," you said coyly, "although you can keep trying."
"Damn," he sighed, defeated.
"Don't worry, kid. She scares me too and I've had 35 years to deal with it," you shrugged.
"That doesn't make me feel better, Y/N," he laughed, holding the door for you. Then he gave your ass a light smack as you walked past.
