here is my how you get the girl cressworth. its kinda sad, i wanted to do happy but i cant apparently. the end is happy and i really want to do a part 2 in cresswells pov
The cold buries itself inside me, finding its way past my bones and gathering through me till all my thoughts are of the cold. Distracting me from what I am about to do, and I cannot figure out whether that is a good thing or not. I haven't spoken to the insufferable Mr. Thomas Cresswell for over six months, yet I am walking a familiar route to his door. I still haven't pieced together why I feel the need to see him tonight, instead of the morning but even if he shuts the door on me and leaves me to fend for myself against the rain it might calm my racing mind. He would be right to do so, after I walked away first. We were close, getting closer every day. Thomas had told me his feelings plenty of times and I had brushed them off till I started to feel them too. I panicked and then made a mess of everything. We are both poor at expressing our feelings yet I had run from the thought of even trying, and now that I have been away I realized how important he is to me, not only as someone I love but as a friend. I miss his quick wit, his charm and dry humour that uncle doesn't think is appropriate half the time. I miss knowing I will see him and see his own smile at me. Knowing I could melt the cold heart of his with just a small comment is something I was proud of, yet began to fear slightly as it was too easy to see that smile. I had learnt that nothing in life is that easy.
I was wrong. Desperately wrong.
Now I haven't seen that smile in so long and I miss it. I miss the person who shares my humour and lets me face any challenge. I just hope he has missed me half as much as I missed him.
My heels click against the cobblestone, my pace speeding up to match my racing heart. Thomas’s house comes into view as I round a corner and I suck in a sharp breath. Can I really face Thomas again? Tell him that I miss him?
This is a worthless idea, a ridiculous notion that Thomas would want to talk to me now. I should leave now and get out of the rain before I become seriously ill and bed ridden by my father. The rain has drowned my skirts, my hair clings to my face. This was a fool's errand. I turn trying to swallow my embarrassment and resentment towards myself when I hear a door open. Shit. I refuse to turn and see if it’s Thomas’s and hope that it-
“Audrey Rose?”
Shit. of course luck would abandon me to this. I don't know what I expected to find when I turned back but it was not this. Thomas, my devilishly handsome friend, stands in his doorway eyes completely transfixed on me. We stand staring, the only sound surrounding us is the pouring rain and my own heartbeat which has amplified its sound so all of London can hear my fear. My anticipation, love and heartbreak and guilt. Words flood my mind but none surfice what I need to tell him and I open and close my mouth like a gaping fish. I’m sure the rain is helping reinforce me looking like such a fool. My mind repeats what an idiot I am and I begin to turn to save myself from further embarrassment.
“Come inside?” Thomas's voice fills the whole street, it sounds slightly panicked, as though he doesn't know what to say. I don't blame him. I showed up uninvited at his flat and haven't managed to look like a functioning human yet I debate leaving, even if I want to stay, but just as I make a step to leave I hear a broken please.
Once again we stare at each other, there are so many words between us that I consider that there isn't a right one to start with. Perhaps his ‘please’ is an effective start. It certainly captured my attention. The rawness of the plea makes me nod and walk towards him. I want to believe Thomas has missed me, that I meant something, but if that is the case, he should be more mad at me. So why invite me in? Why bother?
“I saw you out the window and,” Thomas begins as I stop in front of him and wait in case he changes his mind, “I thought I was crazy at first but when I realized it truly was you I thought I'd save you, just like old times.”
His tone is bittersweet, I wince because I am the reason it has a bitter-ish undertone laced with a hint of grief.
“Save me?” I look around slightly confused, there is no assailant chasing me, no murderer on my tail as far as I knew so what is he saving me from? My own mind, because in a way he has, or at least might.
“The rain. I know you hate the cold and no one wants to stand in the rain so,” he moves from the door and gestures inside. I look down at my dress, completely full of water and wince again.
“As you might guess, the rain has now used my dress as a sponge so if I enter your flat I will ruin it.” I take a step back, it is coward-ish but I can't ruin anything else for him, even if it is only water damage. It won't be the worst thing I've done to him.
“Wadsworth, just get inside.”
His flat is warm and makes me notice how cold I truly was. Immediately I begin shivering as Thomas gets towels, blankets and anything to warm me up.
We sit across from each other, I'm wrapped in blankets and holding onto a mug of coco for dear life as Thomas sits with one hand on his and the other tapping on his armchair. The silence is not as bad as I expected but it was never awkward silence that Thomas and I shared. Which reminds me of Thomas's previous words.
Just like old times.
Except not like old times at all. I have to say something soon and again there is no right way to start this. Sorry will not suffice or fix it, but it is still necessary. Hopefully it will mean something at least.
“I know this is unexpected and probably unwanted and it has been awhile since we spoke but,” I chance a glance at him and he is staring at his mug with an unreadable expression, I've no idea where I'm going with this speech but if I can get him to at least look at me it will be worth it, “but I've missed you and I've had time to reflect on my mistakes.”
“Wadsworth, I've missed you more than I want to admit. I spent everyday waiting to see if you would come back but now you’re here…”
He trails off, leaving me to guess what he is thinking, which is always difficult, but add my paranoia I can only expect he wants me gone. However, I wait in dreaded silence for him to collect himself and speak his mind.
“You’re here and I've no idea what I want.”
We both consider his words, it seems we are still both atrocious at understanding our feelings.
“I've figured out that I want you in my life in some way, any way, and that I was tired of running, of pretending and hiding. I was afraid, before, of what we were and even if we can never go back to that I- I guess I am not going to conform to my fear anymore.”
“I lost my mind when you were gone. I thought I had somehow pushed too far or interpreted things wrong, perhaps I had, but coming here and saying you missed me doesn't fix everything.”
“I understand the fear, Wadsworth but we were partners, no secrets, remember?”
He finally looks at me and I wish he hadn’t. His dark brown eyes pierce my already fragile heart. “I know.” I whisper, looking at my cup.
Once again I whisper I know. I knew this would only be the start of fixing things and I was grateful he was even letting me try.
“I know, no secrets,” I look at him and brace myself to confess my thoughts, “I am a fool for running, I know that now, but at the time I felt trapped, not because of you but what you represent, in a fashion, change does not come easy, but you made it feel so easy I hadn't realized the change and I had convinced myself long before you nothing was easy or fair. I was the difficult, unfair one, and I will forever be sorry, Cresswell, I would like to make it up to you but I understand if-” I let out a breath and attempt to say, if you don't want me to but I can't. It is selfish but I desperately want to make things right.
“No secrets,” Thomas says, almost to himself as he quickly stands then takes the seat right next to me, taking the coco and setting both mugs down. “You are a little insane Wadsworth,” he says with a hint of a smirk and I let the comment slide just because of that smirk, “We cannot change what has happened or fix it as quickly as we would both like but I've missed you too much to be mad. In the future we should be better at this, both of us. I never told you how petrified I felt either. My adoration of you caught me off guard. I thought I had some disease, much to Dacina’s amusement, and I considered running too but you were, are, intoxicating.” Thomas smiles at me, full of promise that I smile back. He is offering a truce of sorts through his own truth and I can't help but imagine Thomas trying to explain his feelings to his sister.
“No secrets, no running.” I offer back and he nods, taking my hand in his and absentmindedly making shapes as we sit in silence. Just like old times.
Except I ruin it with my shivers. I was so focused on Thomas I forgot I was still damp and cold.
“You know, skin to skin contact is the most efficient way of warming up, I wouldn't want you catching hypothermia when there is a simple solution.” he says, smirking fully and I roll my eyes despite my huge smile. There is the Cresswell I fell in love with.
“Scoundrel.” I remove my hand from his and place it under the blankets and nestle further back.
“I am indeed, but also a gentleman. You’re staying here till it's stopped raining. You can have my bed if you want, or the sofa. I can find some fresh clothes and dry your dress as much as possible.”
Thomas leaves the room too fast for me to formulate a sentence so I sit and mull over what has happened. It will not be like before, we have those elements but mixed with something new. I expected to fear that, but found myself excited instead. Thomas returns with a pile of clothes and sets them by me but i make no move to get them. I have only just gained some warmth and even though sitting in wet-ish clothes will be worse, I can't make myself move.
“Can you sit with me please? For a bit, then you can use your bed. I've imposed too much so the sofa is fine, thank you.” I watched him sit back in his chair and smile slightly. I missed all his little mannerisms, how he immediately sets his arm out ready to tap if he needs to. How his hair flicks down. I decide I much prefer his messy hair than neat. There is a softness to his features now that wasn't there when I first saw him tonight. He also looks tired and I consider that I should have picked a better time. Thomas is too kind to comment on that fact.
“You are not imposing Wadsworth. I will happily sit with you all night if you wish and thank you for coming. Albeit the timing is bad, you could have waited for better weather to prevent any illness but- I'm glad you came. I wanted to see you but I thought I was a coward and didn't want to face you if you didn't want to see me.”
His words hit me like a knife in the gut. We were both afraid, both controlled by our own insecurities that we both nearly never got to this stage. It is laughable at how ironic it was. Thomas and I were both convinced the other would not want to see us.
“You are right, we do need to be better,” I say and he looks over at me, “tomorrow, weather permitted, would you like to go to breakfast with me?”
“I'll make breakfast and if weather permits I'd be delighted to go to lunch with you.” Thomas tries to stifle a yawn and I ignore the tug of uneasiness that is screaming. This is too easy. Instead I lean my head back and revel in it, commit Thomas's adorable yawn to memory and agree to tomorrow's plans.
“You should go to bed Cresswell, we seem to have a long day planned tomorrow and i need to get out of my wet clothes.”
“Do I need to reiterate my method of warmth?” He asks.
“Need I reiterate what a scoundrel you are?”
“Yes, I enjoy your slight blush when you say it.”
“Goodnight Thomas.”
He stands and I watch him stretch slightly, walk so that he is facing me. Then he reaches and presses a kiss to my temple. “Goodnight Audrey Rose.”
The kiss lingers, a phantom touch that stays with me all night. Warms me enough to hold onto the hope that Thomas and I will be okay. Our spark will reignite just as, if not more, intensely than before.
Can we have one where Cressworth adopt a child? 🥺❤
okay so, little late but I am very slow at things and I also forgot that I wrote this. It's them deciding to adopt instead of them adopting and its loosely based off paper rings by Taylor Swift.
I pierced through the skin of the body below me, the coldness seeping into me and I fought the chill that threatened to escape. We were in Thomas’s private laboratory and I ignored the urge to clean it. I have been here before, cut open a body here before and it still shocked me at how different it felt. Thomas was normally a well put together person and this laboratory did not reflect that sentiment. Yet it also seemed to fit perfectly. Thomas let out a low whistle as I carved the body. We needed to find the cause of death, as well as take out the kidney. The familiarity of this settles in me and we work together to take out the organ and write our notes for uncle to look through later.
Once we finish and clean all our equipment and place the sheet back over the body I follow Thomas upstairs. We sit in the kitchen, and I watch as Thomas makes us coco. My favorite thing about his flat in London is that there are no servants, it is just us. In this small flat in perfect bliss. We can sit in our bloodied aprons, or talk about bodies without having to stop so we don't upset our staff. Thomas can wrap his arms around me and kiss me all night right in the kitchen if he wished. We were not in our aprons, we left them in the laboratory, but I did feel like having Thomas's arms around me. Perhaps I will tell him to forgo the coco and for us to just go straight to bed. Before I could even say anything he placed a mug in front of me and a kiss atop of my head.
“Tired my love?” he asks as he takes a seat next to me. His hand finds my knee and he rubs small circles over my scar whilst he takes a sip of his drink. I hum a response as I drink my own drink, the warmth of it sweeping through me and replacing the horrible coldness that still lingered. We sit for a few minutes in silence, perfectly content. We have done this many times since being married and being able to live together. My own hand finds his, the one rested my knee and I take it and trace my own circles. It had been a very long day of dealing with people. Specifically obnoxious imbeciles of the Scotland yard. We had another murder on our hands, middle class man who was poisoned. Yet the Scotland yard wanted nothing to do with it despite it being their job to deal with murders. I hated how those men reacted to things, to me. Thomas could walk in there and tell them the murderer with zero evidence and they believe him but I give one theory and they mock me. We did not need the Scotland yard but uncle says we must keep a somewhat healthy relationship with them if we want to investigate for ourselves. Thomas sets his now empty mug down and gives me a warm smile and it relieves some of the tension I have been holding onto. I finish my own drink and place it down, giving him my own tired smile. Thomas takes both mugs and moves them to be washed later on and then returns to me by wrapping his arms around my waist and enveloping me in his warmth.
I lean into his touch and he rests his head on my shoulder. He kisses my temple and murmurs “I'm proud of you.” then he moves further down kissing my cheek. “Today lasted forever, I just wished we remained in bed if I knew that was going to be the case.'' I roll my eyes at his dramatics but don't dispute him. Especially as his lips find mine when I twist to look at him. He presses a light kiss but I deepen it, curling my hands in his hair. He pulls back before I am ready to let go and I let him know that with a whine.
“We will get through to them, it may take time but we will.” I sigh against his lips. I hope he is right.
I bury my head in his shoulder and he tightens his grip so he is hugging me. I fit perfectly in his arms and it takes away any other thought I had. All the fears leave me as I gain strength from the love his hug gives me.
“I’m afraid I have some bad news,my love.” Thomas says as he lets go of me to sit back on his seat. Concern floods me and I take Thomas's hand to steady me. Steady us it seems, as he lets out a long breath. “You needn't worry to much, it isn't necessarily that bad but well-”
“Thomas what is wrong?”
“I went to the doctors some time last week, and a day prior to today, and truly it is nothing at all to be concerned about but it appears I may not, we may not be able to have children.” The words hit me and I tried to search for a reaction. We haven't discussed children but I think we both wanted them. I would've loved to see Thomas holding our child in his arms, and would've loved to do the same. But if it was not possible-
“That means I get you all to myself then?” A half joke, half question and full realization. He lets out a small laugh, this has been eating him up for a while now so I squeeze his hands and he has to look away from me because tears are forming. I can feel my own throat tightening. “My love, look at me.” I move so I'm standing at his side and I wait till he drags his eyes to me. I take his face in mine as he quietly apologizes to me.
“Wadsworth,” my family name, the one he used to use to tease and flirt with me, i haven't heard him say it in so long, “i know that it would have meant the world; i wanted-” he stops himself as he cries trying to compose himself. The sight makes me burst.
“Thomas, it will be okay,” I repeated his words earlier with a kiss to his temple. “We needn't have children to be happy. I have you already and sir Issac and I am sure we will find ways around it.” He is still shaking his head and I have begun crying with him. We moved until I sat on his lap, his head buried into my shoulder, fingers digging into my back. I do the same. We hold each other for a while, Thomas's hand moving so it brushes against my scar on my leg, memories of the Eurita surly flooding his mind adding to his guilt.
“I am so sorry about everything Wadsworth.”
“It is Cresswell. Do not apologize to your wife when there is seldom a reason. I do not ever hold you responsible for my mistakes on the Eurita and I will never hold you responsible for this either. It is out of your control, my love, please do not harbor any guilt.”
“I know, I know,” his voice is hoarse and rough as his eyes meet mine, his brown eyes filled with pain, “you would have been the perfect mother.”
I smile brightly. He would've been the perfect father. I have had dreams of him playing with our children, with sir Isaac as I watched the love shine in his eyes. They'd adore him. I pictured them sitting by the fire as he taught them how to read; then we'd put them to bed and he'd hold me tightly in bed, telling me about his day with the children even though I was there.
“You would have been amazing too, if you spoil them half as much as you do the cat or me then they'd absolutely adore you.” silent tears stream down his face at the thought of what we could have. I wipe them away, caressing his cheek lightly as I place a kiss to his forehead, cheek and then his lips. We linger, mere inches away from each other and I smile at my husband. A man full of love when the world seems to want to take it from him. He takes my hand and smiles back.
“I love you. Thank you for understanding” he breathes and I feel it wash over me and attach to my bones.
“I love you too, Cresswell. I will stand by you no matter the complications, even if you commit some crime and we must perform a daring escape.” that earns a light laugh from him.
“You are truly the best thing in my life. I- Audrey Rose, I may never truly understand why you put up with me, but I will be forever grateful.”
“Does it help if I tell you that you treat me like your equal, like you promised at our wedding, and that you have shown me everyday how good it feels to be loved and to love, and that you are the best thing in my life too.” he searches my face for his usual tells in people, in whether they are being honest with him, but he find none. He presses a kiss to my lips, one that tells me all his worries and tells me how much he loves me. I kiss him back just as hard as he deepens the kiss and wraps his arms around me.
I pull back from his, determined to cheer him up before we retire to bed. “This means we should get sir Isaac a friend. Thomas there is also adoption we could consider. Not right away, but one day, perhaps when we aren't befriending killers every other week, we could adopt a child.” I had only just remembered adoption. It may be our only way to raise a child but I would still happily do it. We could still experience the joys of raising a child even if it is not our own. We would make it a part of this family. As we had made each other family.
“I'd like that, one day, i still have that crime to commit and we still need to perform that daring act.” We laugh, the tension in us both relaxed as I begin to stand up and stretch my leg slightly. Thomas offers me my cane that was by him and I take it, tracing over the engravings at the top. Over the years Thomas has brought me many canes but I seem to always use the first one he gave me, the one with his family crest. The one he put his heart into knowing I very may well run off with the Eurtia. I smile at the memory of him giving this to me.
“My love, I know we live a life of luxury and I spoil you often, and that our official wedding was fancy but not of that matters, I’d marry you with paper rings, I would happily live without all this so long as I had you.”
Based off Speak now by Taylor Swift. There will be a chapter two eventually in Thomas’s perspective which will be way more dramatic but my brain is bad at finishing things so we shall see how long it takes. Posting this during my history class as there is nothing else to do...so enjoy
In all my time falling in love with Mr. Cresswell, I never expected to be an outsider at his wedding. Sitting alone on the back row to wallow in my misery. It is cruel that once I got over my fear of marriage and decided it would be perfect to spend the rest of my life with Thomas, it is torn from us by his father. The church is nice, made up with everything his bride-to-be wanted without a trace of his charm. He stands at the front, staring intensely at the door as though it will swallow you up and save him. He tries his best not to look at me or display his heartbreak. To everyone else he is impatiently waiting for miss Whitehall. However, I know all his calls. Knuckles white as he tries and bite down his anger. Pushing his emotions away in order to get through this.
This is surely not what any of us thought it would be. I want nothing more than for it to be our wedding. For him to be more relaxed, truly impatient and bursting with emotion. His expression will haunt, embedded in my brain like a wine stained dress, I'll try my hardest to forget his grief stricken face watching his future- our future, dissipate. To count the minutes until everything changes and we become trapped in our feelings that can never show. With everything that is happening I may have to stop working with Thomas. How would it be fair to us both if we continue on thinking nothing has happened and pretending we are not in love? That when I am away from Thomas I almost lose my mind. Yet, not only is our wedding taken away from us, our friendship shall be too. Back in Romania Thomas had told me the world is neither kind nor cruel; but as I sit and watch Thomas become shackled in this marriage I find it hard to believe the world is not vicious. It is full of murderers, liars, thieves and people intent on ruining other peoples lives.
The organ starts to play a song that sounds like a death march and everyone in the room stops breathing as the door opens and Miss Whitehall begins to float down the aisle like a queen. I steal a glance at Thomas who has finally caved and is staring at me. It is a piercing gaze, pleading and begging for something to save him. Even though there is nothing to be done.
Thomas’s stare costumes me, setting me alight, destroying me completely. He is stranded, helpless. I feel sick. I want to reach out and tell him it will work out even though it won’t. I want to hold him close to me, to feel his arms around me as we try and hide in false hope. But I am not the kind of girl who would interrupt a wedding even though my skin is crawling with the need to scream how wrong this is.
Miss Whitehall nudges Thomas and he reluctantly looks away from me. She throws a scowl my way because I am all Thomas can think about. I ignore it, just as I ignore the growing silence that pounds against me. The priest starts to do the speech but no sounds are made except my beating heart. Silence stretches on for an eternity and my heart stops beating as I hear the words: ‘Speak now or forever hold your peace.’
There is a silence that differs from before. It has changed as anticipation seeps into the room. Thomas looks, scanning the crowd before landing on me. Could I really interrupt? Save Thomas from this fate and change our futures. It is perhaps my last chance. I take a risk and make a decision so reckless Thomas would've been proud at the dramatic nature of it -if it wasn't about us.
I close my eyes and breathe in deeply as I stand up slowly. My eyes open and Thomas is still staring at me. I hide my hands behind my back. There are gasps and horrified looks from everyone in the room but I can only focus on Thomas. Relief and fear and emotions I can't figure out are mixed in his dark brown eyes. There is a faint smile as we stand staring at each other.
I recall all the times Thomas has saved me, how many times he has dragged me from dark thoughts with his teasing, witty remarks. I remember all the times we have saved each other. How we were meant to spend the rest of our lives having adventures, saving one another and loving each other with our whole heart. I can't imagine a world where I am not beside my annoyingly charming best friend. To not be able to rely on someone who knew what I was thinking when I didn't seems impossible. We were meant to stop crime together with uncle Johnathan. Start a family so one day sir Isaac can have a friend. I wanted to keep discovering everything about him and never feel like I truly know everything because we promised each other a lifetime of surprises. I want to be able to fall in love with him in ways I never expected. For his love to make me feel safe, for early mornings where he traps me in his arms and we forget everything but each other.
I want to be the one walking down the aisle to Thomas surrounded by our family. To feel loved by everyone in that room as I take my place beside my friend and hear Thomas's vows to me. Ones that radiate his love and make me feel his promises to me. I want to do the same for him, say my vows and see him smile, no doubt saying something inappropriate just to see me smile. I want to spend the rest of my life making Thomas smile and smiling freely at him.
We cannot do any of that if he is married to another.
The world fades till it is just Thomas and I. Staring and waiting for me to interrupt. Slowly I let my fears ebb away as I began to say all the reasons why this wedding should not occur.
No words escape. Thomas remains still, waiting. I reach up for my throat and try to say his name.
Nothing.
I remain silently screaming, pleading, hoping that I will regain the ability to speak or Thomas will react. Yet nothing happens and I feel as though I am suffocating. There is nothing I can do, no way to prevent such heartbreak. There is just nothing i can do no matter how much i try and move or say Thomas’s name. Helplessness gathers around me, suffocating, crawling all over my skin.
No. No. No. No. Please....
“Audrey rose?'' Thomas's voice slices through me. The world comes back to me and I am not standing up interrupting Thomas's wedding, but sitting across from him in the library. His glance is filled with concern and I wonder how long he has been trying to talk to me. I blink away the image of his wedding I conjured in my mind and how real it felt. How real it will be as he is still yet to marry miss Whitehall today. The sound of his fingers tapping on the wood is normally a sound I hate. However, I stare at his hand and wonder when the sight of him will not be available to me because I am no longer in his life.
He clears his throat and I slowly look at his face. My handsome friend is full of grief and concern as his eyes meet mine. He tries a smile, a sad smile that breaks my heart because instead of his usual smirk or his genuine smile, it is small and full of pity for us both.
Swallowing my own pain I return it as I don't know how long or how many smiles we have left. We haven't spoken about after the wedding or after this case but we both understand how unfair it will be if we remain working together. So I cherish the smile even if it will remain in my dreams whenever I think about everything that has and will happen.
“Thomas?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. I watch as he quickly glances at the clock, the one hanging above us that feels like it is counting down to the end of the world. I have refused to look at it, to count the minutes until Thomas has to leave for his wedding. His. Not ours.
It is time, no matter how much I want to deny it, it is time for him to leave and get ready for his wedding. Sucking in a sharp breath as I look back at Thomas, I can't decide whether marrying someone you don't love is worse than watching someone you love marry someone else. Either one creates such hopelessness and a pit of despair that threatens to drag me down and prevent me from ever escaping. I can't imagine what Thomas is feeling, the emotions waging war inside of him.
“I am so sorry about this Wadsworth.”
“I know, I don't blame you Cresswell, you know this.” I interrupt him before he apologises again.
“Even if you don’t blame me I can be sorry for you, for us both.”
We sit in silence and I feel I can hear the time speed up and try to take Thomas from me even if he remains seated across from me.
Thomas begins to stand, my heart rising as though to go with him. Before he leaves I debate trying to keep him here but instead I say “I'm sorry too.”
It makes no difference, solves nothing as he grabs his coat and leaves to get ready for his wedding.
so, i'm writing a thing for cressworth (surprise, surprise) and it's based of speak now by Taylor Swift
In all my time falling in love with Mr. Cresswell, I never expected to be an outsider at his wedding. Sitting alone on the back row to wallow in my misery. It is cruel that once I got over my fear of marriage and decided it would be perfect to spend the rest of my life with Thomas, it is torn from us by his father. The church is nice, made up with everything your bride-to-be wanted without a trace of your charm. You stand at the front, staring intensely at the door as though it will swallow you up and save you. You try your best not to look at me or display your heartbreak. To everyone else you're impatiently waiting to miss Whitehall. However, I know all your calls. Knuckles white as you try and bite down your anger. Pushing your emotions away in order to get through this.
This is surely not what you thought it would be. I want nothing more than for it to be our wedding. For you to be more relaxed, impatient and bursting with emotion. Your expression will haunt me like a wine stained dress, I'll try my hardest to forget your grief stricken face watching your future- our future, dissipate.
so i decided to post wadsworth first. modern au cressworth- you belong with me taylor swift
Thomas throws his phone down on the bed with frustration swirling around him as he paces. I set down my pen and wait till he turns and spots me. We often find ourselves talking via paper throughout the nights, from questions about our day to helping each other study. It is also often we watch each other be angry at something, yet I've not seen him this bad before. Finally Thomas turns and catches my eye. He stands there for a second before smiling and I quickly move around my various workbooks till I find my notebook I use to talk to him. I take my sharpie and write: ‘Are you okay?’
I watch him shake his head ever so slightly, seemingly baffled at it, but he walks to his window and opens it. The wind brushes his deep brown hair and I can't help but want to reach out and run my hand through it. I curse myself for it as he motions for me to open my window. Moving my books and pens off of me and cursing at my stiff leg as I go and open the window. Somehow I manage to hit my arm in the process and I curse, which makes Thomas laugh slightly so I forgive my body for hurting me.
“You have a wicked mouth Wadsworth. Did you not learn cursing is unlady-like?” he teases and I relax slightly because of it.
“Fuck you,” I scowl at his smirk and the frigid wind. His eyes light up at my temper. We live across from one another, if we were to reach out we could hold hands. Which we have done. When I got rejected from the specific school I was desperate to go to, Thomas had managed to climb into my room and hold me as I cried. He's only ever needed to climb over twice to cheer me up, the other times have been to study or watch some romance programme he thought was good. I hoped wherever was troubling was something that wouldn't resort to me having to climb over. As much as I would want to, my brain may have a hard time letting me attempt it.
“I assume dear Wadworth, you want to ask what has made me so irate?” he asks, eyes focused on behind me and fingers tapping his window sill as he sits. I watch as his cat, ridiculously named Sir Isaac Mewton, jumps off his bed and onto his seat next to him. He grabs the cat and kisses the top of his head before holding him in his lap.
“Perhaps,” I say, moving so I rest my head on the wall, “perhaps I merely wanted to ask if Sir Issac was okay.” his eyes shift to mine and despite him still being angry they soften at my attempt at humour. I am not as good as Thomas at using humour to help someone, but he always does it for me.
“Really? You always refer to him as a little pest, whereas as with me, I am your dearest person, of course you want to know how I am feeling. My son is good though, very energetic today.” he smiles down at his cat. I remember the day he brought him home, he made me go over to his house and we spent all night playing with him. Thomas did, I ended up studying and making notes for the both of us while he gave Sir Isaac a ‘grand tour’ of his new home. The smile vanishes off Thomas's face and once again his gaze goes past me. “I assume you saw the call, well that was William. Yes, awful. Apparently though, there is a rumour that I'm with Miss Whitehall. I don't even remember her first name, but he was convinced of our relation despite my protests. Madness.” I watch him scoff, anger once again taking over his features. His cat nuzzles into him and Thomas leans into his cat. If I wasn't also mad now I'd smile at the sight.
“Is this the same William that had convinced everyone I was dating him?”
“Yes.”
“Bitch. Why on earth is he such a problem? Where on earth does he even make this assumptions about us?'' I find myself standing and pacing, trying to quell my own rising anger. A year ago, William had been my lab partner for a few weeks, he was friendly, but people had got it in their head that we were somehow together, and he went with it. Gossiped about me, even Thomas, and then was somehow enraged I dared to stop those rumours and be angry at him. I'd come home one day when it was particularly too much, when my father had found out and lectured me about it, as though I was in the wrong for standing up for myself. He'd cancel my lesson with my uncle out of spite, and I stormed upstairs. Thomas had been at the window, as if he was expecting me. One look at his face made me cry. I managed to open my window and he'd once again climbed in and held me as I cried. Then he made us watch this awful romance film together and held me still as I fell asleep on him.
“I have never once,” Thomas says, dragging me back from those awful memories, “shown interest in her, nor will I ever.” He drags a hand through his hair. “She's just- a lot.”
I huff a sigh. She is awful. Had been awful to Liza and I for years. With her short skirts, high heels and the most rotten attitude I have ever witnessed. It wasn't often that I'd hate someone like that, someone so different from me in nearly every way, but she has tried to make me feel that I don't belong because of my interest in science and not the traditional girl interests.. “That is the understatement of the year Cresswell. Beside, you wouldn't work, she's too- your,” I have no idea how to explain how excellent Thomas is, how wonderful his mind is and how kind he is. It's not a side he shows to most, yet if he was ever with someone like Whitehall, it would be disastrous. I take my seat again and find him looking at me, suppressing a smirk and raising an eyebrow at me. “What?” I ask. I shrink under his gaze, pulling my hoodie over my legs as I curl in on myself.
“I’m what? I'd be delighted to know your innermost thoughts of me, Wadsworth.”
“Your absurd but fine I'll elaborate,” I roll my eyes as he shifts so he is fully facing me, eyes completely focused, no sign of the anger he had only moments ago, “your too kind, too witty and clever and Whitehall wouldn’t appreciate you enough. You-” don’t belong with her.
Ever since he mentioned the idea of being with someone else, real or not, I have tried to ignore how much it pained me that he would be with someone else. I never expected to want to be with him, yet lately the premise of dating him has seemed very pleasing to me.
“You forgot to mention how handsome I look, or how charming I am, but I'll take it,” his voice is deeper than normal and his gaze travels over me even though his eyes are on my own. Thomas pats Sir Issac and his cat jumps off behind him with a whine. His hand reaches out for mine and I lean forward, wind making my loose strands of hair fly across my face. His hands are warm as I take them but his smile warms me more. It is small but genuine and filled with the normal Cresswell charm mixed with something I can't quite name.
“I don’t need to inflate your ego further Thomas.”
“I know but it would've been nice. I did say the inner most thoughts but we’ll get there. Audrey rose-” he looks down contemplating his words before he once again locks his gaze on mine, his dark brown eyes bright, “I dont belong with her, your right, my heart would never belong to her especially since it already belongs to someone else.”
I blink at the honesty. I want to scream that you belong with me; but if Thomas is in love with someone else then I suppose I will have to find a way to deal with it. I try to keep the hurt of my face even as he smiles at me.
“I-” Thomas lets go of my hand and stands. There's a silence between us until he motions for me to move. The idiot is going to climb into my house so he can tell me about his new found love. Like the fool I am, I'm going to let him talk about this girl who makes him look this happy. Even though it hurts that it's not me who is making him look like that. Even though I'm the one who makes him laugh when he is angry or upset. Even though I'm the one who knows his favourite songs, the books beside his bed and all his hopes and dreams.
He climbs over and sets himself on the window sill, giving me room to sit across from him. I do, even as I try to ignore the weight pressing down on my chest. “I hope you are happy with whomever has your heart Cresswell.” I say and mean it. I once again curl into myself, hoodie covering my legs as i watch him continue to smile at me,
“Of course I'll be happy. She's amazing. Let me tell you all about her. I met her many years back and was instantly smitten with her emerald eyes and her quick witted mind. How she sings to herself every morning and how her dark curls fall across her face whenever she sits on her bed and reads. I adore her curiosity for the dead and how wicked her mouth is and how delightful it is to watch your mind at work. I love when she shows me a note through the window to see if I'm doing okay and-”
“Wait,” I blurt out, my mind catching up, “Thomas, are you talking about me?”
“Yes, finally! I thought I'd have to keep speaking forever till you realized it was you.” He starts laughing at my gaping mouth until I collect myself enough to scowl at him slightly for laughing. Thomas reaches out for my hand, moving closer to me until my back is pressed against the wall, my hoodie no longer over my legs as he rests his other hand on my leg, warmth seeping through me. “Wadsworth, darling, I have been in love with you for some time now.”
Silence washes over us as we stare, trying to convince ourselves this is really happening. “I have something to show you.” My voice is barely about a whisper and I slide out of his grasp even though I don't want to. I walk to my bed where all my notebooks were left open and my notebooks sits. I open it out and let a piece of paper fall out. Facing Thomas I open the sheet slowly, watch him read the words. His eyes lit up at them.
I love you.
I take my place beside him again, his hands finding their way in mine once again. “I wrote that the night after you came here the second time. Something in me clicked that no matter what you'd find a way to comfort me. Not save me, but work alongside me. I wanted to tell you I just couldn't face it. But I needed to acknowledge it. So I wrote it down, and I look at it every time we use the note system; I try to convince myself to show you.” Thomas just stares at me, eyes flicking down to my lips every now and then. His hands are making circles on my leg, not entirely intentional. Thomas has always shown if he is excited or nervous by either tapping or making shapes on surfaces. The world slows completely as he leans in and presses his lips against mine. He pulls back ever so slightly, resting his head against mine and we are both smiling wildly at each other, pressing kisses until he leans further away. Thomas goes back to his side of the wall, which may as well be across the other side of the world, then he pulls me to him and I twist so that my back is against his. He holds me as we both look out the window, enjoying the freeing feeling of telling each other how we feel.
“Now would be a perfect time to tell me how handsome I am, my love.”
I have such a good cressworth fic to post. Like one of my favs. I took taylor swifts dress song from reputation and made a fic from it.
Its like semi Canon but not. They work for different agency's, Audrey Rose doesn't attend school yet, but they are still kind of togeher to find jack the ripper.
They are both at a party and it's 4000 words of dramatic thomas pining for Audrey Rose and being surprised that she loves him back
But... I have to edit it becuase I'm bad at typing and it's 4000 words long and I've already started another cressworth fic that I could write.
So eventually I shall post that. Then the other one I have planned and then maybe. Maybe. I'll post something other than cressworth. Maybe
One of my fav Cressworth encounters... one of many (reblog with some of your fav moments)
”Apologies, miss Wadsworth.”
I touched my lips. I’d read about dangerous situations bringing about spontaneous acts of romance and thought it foolish. Now I understood. Realizing the very thing you love most could be taken away without warning made you clutch onto it. “I believe I acted first, Thomas.”
He stepped back, wrinkling his brow, then laughed. “Oh, no. I’m not sorry about kissing you. I’m talking about the deranged lunatic holding a knife to your throat.”
