Imagines: Thomas Brodie Sangster

Rain

Rain is pouring down in the streets, hammering the sidewalk. You're drenched from head to toes as you run, covering your forehead with your arm to keep your face as dry as possible. Why didn't you take a goddamn umbrella? you internally scowl yourself. 

You're freezing and shivering. It's way past eleven, so you're alone in the streets. You stop in front of a street lamp, to realize you're completely lost. This evening could not have gone any worst.

"OH GREAT!" you shout. "THIS IS FUCKING GREAT!"

"What's fucking great?" asks a voice behind you. 

You jump in fear and turn around, to see a man standing in front of you. He's wearing a dark raincoat and an umbrella protects him from the rain. You can't quite distinguish the traits of his face. 

"Who - who are you? Please don't kill me, please don't kill me!" you panic. 

The guy starts to laugh. But not an evil laugh, a warm, friendly laugh. "Hey, calm down, I'm not going to murder you or anything," he says with a deep British accent.

He takes a couple of steps forward and holds the umbrella over the both of you. You're so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek. "I know this sounds creepy," he starts, "but do you want to come over to my place? I can give you some dry clothes, plus you look like you've just spent a day in the North Pole wearing a bikini."

You let out a nervous laugh. "Well... I guess I don't really have the choice. I'm lost."

"All right then."

Suddenly, he takes off his jacket, still holding the umbrella, and drapes it over your shoulder. You immediately feel warm again, but you're a little embarrassed. "Um, mister? Keep your coat, you're going to get cold-"

"Oh, I'm fine," he says, and you can almost hear the smile in his voice. The two of you walk for about ten minutes, before getting inside one of the houses on the street. 

Once the door is shut in your back, you sigh in relief. "Thank you," you mumble. "You're being too kind."

"No problem."

You turn around and finally, see his face. He's incredibly handsome! He's probably in his twenties or something. He has sparkling chocolate-colored eyes and dirty blond hair. Strangely, you have a feeling of déjà-vu. 

"Come with me."

You follow him to the bathroom. He pushes open the door and grabs a towel from one of the shelves. "You'll feel better after a shower," he grins as he hands the towel to you. You smile gratefully and wait for him to leave to start undressing. 

The burning water running on your skin feels like the best thing you've had for a long, long time! You sigh in satisfaction and jerk your head backward as you rub soap onto your body. Still, you're pretty sure you saw this guy somewhere. 

You get out, dry yourself and wrap yourself in the towel, only to realize you have no dry clothes! Gosh, this is embarrassing. You peek out of the bathroom. 

"Ummm... mister?" you call. You realize you don't even know his name. He arrives immediately. When he sees you only covered with a towel, a blush of red invades his face. 

"Sorry," he apologizes. He leaves and comes back hurryingly with a set of clothes. "I hope they fit."

"Thank you," you stutter before shutting the door and putting on the clothes. It's a pair of dark blue loose pants, with a pink hoodie and green socks. 

You spread out your damp clothes on the radiator and go to the living room. It's huge! A couple of paintings are spread on the beige walls. On your left, there's a shelf almost cracking with books, and in front of you, the guy is sitting on his couch, sipping a cup of something. When he sees you, he gets up and walks up to you. You find yourself blushing and avoid his look. 

"We didn't get the chance to introduce each other properly," he announces. "I'm Thomas."

"Y/N," you answer and you shake hands. "Thank you... for... well... helping me," you stumble on the words. 

"No problem. I wouldn't let a pretty girl like you stand there during the night, all freezing and shivering," he winks cheesily. "Here, have a seat."

You both settle on the couch. "What were you doing out there alone, anyway?" asks Thomas. 

"Well... I broke up with my boyfriend," you explain. "We had an overheated argument in the car, and at one point he told me to get out and never come back to him. Except we were somewhere I didn't know, and it was raining and all, so I got lost and you found me."

"Oh, I'm sorry," his smile fades. 

"By the way, I hope your girlfriend doesn't mind me wearing her clothes..." you gesture towards your outfit. 

"That's not a problem. I also just broke up with her today. She left a couple of things behind," explains Thomas.

"Oh, okay."

You sit in awkward silence until Thomas says:

"I think it's best if you stay here for the night. I'll drive you home tomorrow."

"You... you don't mind?"

"Of course not!" he exclaims. "Plus it's kinda boring when you're alone in your house, so..."

Another blank. Then you decide to ask him the question that's been on your mind since you saw his face. 

"Did we ever meet before?" you ask. "I have the feeling I've already seen you somewhere..."

"Well, I'm an actor," he says modestly. "So maybe you saw a movie I'm in?"

Then the memories flash back in your mind. 

"OH MY FREAKIN GOD I REMEMBER!" you shout, jumping up, which makes him laugh. "YOU'RE NEWT FROM MAZE RUNNER! YOU'RE NEWT FROM MAZE RUNNER!"

Thomas chuckles at your reaction. 

The Maze Runner was your favorite movie when you were in middle school, and your dream had been to meet one of the cast members, preferably Thomas. 

You suddenly notice you're jumping around hysterically and sit back down. "Y/N, did I tell you you're adorable when you're fangirling?" laughs Thomas. 

"Sorry," you stare at your feet while your face is probably as red as a tomato. You involuntarily yawn, covering your mouth as you do so. 

"Here, you can sleep in the guest room," says Thomas as he gets up. "I'll show you."

You follow him to the guest room. "Thank you, Thomas," you smile. "I don't know what I would've done without you."

"No problem, Y/N," he smiles back. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

And with that, he shuts the door.