Professor Hiddleston the Actor

11 • birthday

How did I get to this?

I stood by my unfortunately secret boyfriend as he  talked to my father, quite casually, almost as though we were a pair. However the topic differed from our relationship and much more about my grades in mathematics and if I had a any chance for a future. It seemed like only a few hours ago I was happily fixing Noah's tie, waiting for guests to arrive.

My father had decided to have a large gathering for my birthday; inviting friends, colleagues and people on our street, most likely to find me an eligible bachelor with rich parents.

"Tom do you mind getting the door?" I asked, fumbling around my back to attach zip up the stupidly expensive dress while trying to get down the stairs as quick as possible.

I hated myself for loving it so much; It was a long, black, v-neck dress with a skit finishing high above my knee.

"Sure," Noah yelled back.

However, I gave up quickly on the zip, opting to ask Noah to try instead. "Noah can you help me with my zip? There's like an inch left and I can't reach it," I called, running down the last flight of stairs, leading to the main reception area of the house.

"Sir?"

"Y/n?" A familiar voice said, ignoring Noah's confusion.

I felt my throat go immediately dry, making me give an awkward cough. My eyebrows furrowed as I walked down the last few steps, gripping the banister to try calm my nerves.

"Noah, leave Y/n to answer the door and come meet our guests," my father bellowed, causing my brother to quickly leave the room.

"What are you—" we both said simultaneously.

"I can leave if you want," he hesitated, stepping a foot back.

"No stay, please. I don't want you to go."

His eyes seemed to light up and a glowing smile formed on his face; I returned just as warm. "Do you want me to..?" He pointed to his back, talking about my zipper.

"Oh—yeah, if you don't mind," I grinned, turning around.

He reached a hand to the zipped and gently pulled up, holding my hip with the other, possibly to steady me but that probably wasn't the case, especially with his follow up comment. "You look beautiful."

I turned around slowly, allowing his had to caress my curves, eventually stopping for rest at the small of my back. "So do you." He was wearing a black suit with a matching bow tie and a crisp white shirt.

My hand went for his, squeezing it and eventually pull him lightly, making him chuckle. My head turned to him just before we approached the the back door and he shot me another smile, brushing his thumb over the palm of my hand before letting go.

Tom's hands met behind his back and he gazed around our large back garden; equipped with a pool and pool house as well as my fathers extremely snobby colleagues. "Do you know these people?"

"No," I snorted.

"Oh, that's always good," He chuckled.

After a while of casual chitchat, wandering  around the garden together, my eyes met with my fathers. "You should meet my dad, he's such a charmer," I joked.

"And so I've heard from all your wonderful tales."

"Only good things, obviously."

"Obviously," he repeated, imitating a formal tone much like my fathers followed by a laugh between us both.

"I should probably go talk to him, I'll catch up with you—"

"He wants us both to come over," Tom said, making me look over to my dad.

"He wants us both to come over?" I asked.

"He wants us both to come over," he repeated as though he was trying to work out himself where he'd gone wrong.

After a heavy conversation, or more so an interrogation, with my father and Tom about my stable future, somehow excluding me from talking, I found myself distanced from him. We obviously couldn't spend too much time together or people would suspect something; all I could do was gaze over across the garden to see him try to entertain himself with the guests and free bar. We stole a few glances, but until the party started to die down, that was all we got.

"Hey, I've been watching you from afar and I just can't help notice how hot you are." 

I stifled a laugh, trying not to choke on the desert I was eating.

It was the familiar English voice I'd been longing to hear for the past hour and a half. He came and sat beside me, looking forwards while smirking. "You wanna go out sometime?" He joked, trying to hide his very obvious grin.

He reached over and took my fork just a few centimetres from my mouth, eating the brownie piece.

I snorted. "I'm waiting for my prince actually."

"Oh yeah?" He mumbled, still going at the brownie.

"Oh yeah. He's tall, amazing blue eyes," I described.

"Yeah?"

"Very attractive indeed, and get this, he's only about ten years older than me."

"Oh wow, you're set for life then," he said, jokingly elbowing me while we both attempted to suppress our laughs. "Ah wait, nine later tonight though."

"Technically, we'll always be ten years apart—"

Tom let out an airy laugh, "Stop."

"Sorry," I chuckled.

"You coming to mine tonight?" He asked.

"I'm having way too much fun, you're probably going to have to drag me over there," I replied sarcastically, looking up towards him.

His smile increased, if that was even possible. "Oh no, you stay, don't let me ruin your fun."

"Ah but then you'd miss out."

"On what?" He asked.

"Well, I just thought since it's my birthday..."

"Wait you're not talking about..?" He finally put down the fork and his ears almost pricked up at my slight connotations.

"Oof."

"Oof?" He questioned.

"Sorry gramps, you wouldn't understand my millennial language," I joked, getting up from my seat.

"Wait—"

"See you at 8," I grinned, patronisingly patting him on the shoulder before walking away.