❝ HE'S PSYCHOTIC, OBSESSIVE, AND MY WORST NIGHTMARE.
OF COURSE, I'M THE ONE HE CHOOSES ❞
[ DARK!TOM HIDDLESTON AU]
[ TEACHER!TOM HIDDLESTON AU ]
[ BOOK ONE IN "THE NEFARIOUS" SERIES ]
[ ORIGINALLY...
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FOR A SPLIT SECOND, I thought I really was hearing things. But, a moment later, it's louder, familiar, and definitely real.
"Lynn!"
I gasp at a recognizable voice echoing in the dark. I no doubt look terrible as I shoot my eyes all directions to find none other than whoever the universe has sent to save me from my drunken peril. Only, relief stops in its track, quickly changing to a combination of ice-cold shock and warm embarrassment. Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse...
Quickly crossing the street with a bottle in his hand, Mr. Hiddleston rushes towards my small figure. His eyes gleam in worry and when he reaches me, he squats to the ground, forgetting his drink on the concrete as his hands are curled around my shoulder and wrist.
"Oh, my God, Lynn— Are you alright?" He asks hurried. Mr. Hiddleston's eyes are looking me over as if expecting to find some kind of injury to pair with my wet, bloodshot eyes. I'd almost prefer that over the real reason for my appearance. Maybe he'd buy into a lie? Just for a moment I consider it before dropping the idea. No, even now I don't think I could lie well enough to get away with my obvious underage-drinking.
I lick my lips and look anywhere else but his blue eyes. They make me feel small, not to mention how embarrassed I feel. "I, uh— My phone died, and I-I-I can't get home."
While my words sounded fine in my head, it takes the tense grip of his hands for me to realize I did not sound as sober as I initially thought. "Lynn," he says slowly, but stern. It almost makes me ashamed. "Have you been drinking?"
I gulp, unable to find words. Instead, I sniff away my tears, a shaky exhale exiting my lungs.
Before I have time to answer or for him to give me a lecture unrelated to class, a voice calls out. "Tom? Everything alright?"
Mr. Hiddleston hangs his head for a moment. I look up to find a brunette man with a clean-shaven beard standing outside of a front door, his large body in every sense blocking a lot of light coming from the house.
"Uh," my teacher calls, his head shaking like he is clueless on what to say. Can't say I blame him. "Yeah, um..." Mr. Hiddleston pauses, only to talk to me this time. "Here, come on. We're going to get you home, yeah?"
