The Lost Princess (A Tom Hiddleston Fanfiction) Wattpad Featured

Centre Stage

TRUTH is stranger and more perfect than fiction some times; those were Tom's thoughts as he smiled for the cameras the next day.

His smile hid what he was really thinking about. What was behind that smile.

Because, let's face it, in Tom's mind at least, thinking  about Tory and finally kissing her, finally holding her in his arms – on a balcony on the French Riviera in the moonlight while sipping champagne no less. Yes that was enough to make anyone smile.

Not that he was distracted – well not that distracted anyway.

There was no time.

"Over here Tom!"

"Tilda, Tilda tilt your head this way a bit more, great thanks!"

"Tom can you move closer to Tilda."

"Jim can we have more of a smile!"

Flash, Flash.

"Look to the left Tom"

"Just Jim and Tilda now!"

"Can we have Tilda between Tom and John?"

Yes there wasn't that much time to think – or to check his phone.

That certainly wasn't happening – even if he had felt it vibrate once or twice. It was hard not to, tucked into the front pocket of his tight Ralph Lauren trousers. He'd insisted on keeping hold of the telephone – Matt wasn't impressed. It spoilt the lines of his suit according to his publicist.

Mind you Tom wasn't currently Matt's favourite person. Sure they were still friends but Matt wasn't impressed he'd kept his little secret – but it wasn't Tom's to tell, it was Tory's. He'd had a lecture about Dr Tory/Princess Victoria and what could have happened if they'd been spotted together without Matt knowing who she really was. He'd been lectured about not trusting him. He'd had a lecture about having her in his room and obviously spending time with her on the balcony of his unit, where a telephoto lens could have given some pap photographer a world exclusive.

Sure Tom had tried to explain that they really were just old friends through his sister and they weren't romantically involved. But then he'd received a lecture about how cocoa lipstick suited Tory but really wasn't his colour. And he'd lost that argument.

Plus well, he'd seen them on his bed. Not that they were doing anything or really planned to take it further. Did they?

Kissing her had been a head spin enough. Not that he didn't think about what it would be like to make love to her – particularly after feeling her body pressed to his. Her soft curves moulding into him. Drinking in that lovely mix of orange blossom and fresh linen that was uniquely Tory.

"Tom could you tone the smile back a little!"

"Tilda move a little closer to John."

Yes like he could tone down that smile today. Chance would be a fine thing.

It wasn't going to happen.

"As soon as we break for lunch I want to know exactly what's behind that smile young man," Tilda hissed in his ear as the photographers turned their attention to Jim for a minute leaving the actors to take a break.

"What? Oh sorry Tilda, miles away," Tom apologised not quite hearing what she said.

"I'd think your mind is back at the cinema where a certain documentary is being screened."

Tom blushed.

"I don't know what you mean!" he laughed, his eyes twinkling just enough to tell Tilda just the opposite.