#simple-things

[thepersonalwords]

Cherish simple things such as family, friends and love, because great things appear simple from far away. Place your simple things in the best light; there's enough sunshine for all of them

Val Uchendu

[theheartofpenelope]

Simple Things : Chapter eleven

Excerpt - “Charlotte would have to admit there were worse sights to wake up next to.... Tom looked so perfectly peaceful and relaxed as he lay there next to her. In her hotel room. In her bed. The white bed sheet haphazardly draped over his legs. His curly hair was a mess and she adored it. Even from where she was resting, she could feel his bodily warmth radiating onto her.” Tag list: @winterisakiller, @devikafernando, @scorpionchild81, @messy-insomniac-bookgirl, @smutsausage, @hiddlesbitch1 @noplacelikehome77 @wolfsmom1 @meh1217 @dina-bln @lilaeye39 @tinchentitri @fairlightswiftly @nonsensicalobsessions @wolfsmom1 @stmeiou @ink-and-starlight @givemecocoaa @profkmoriarty13 @nikkalia @massivelemon @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @argo-shila @emoietmoi @redfoxwritesstuff @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @raining-litter @theoneanna @coppercorn-and-cauldron @turniptitaness  Author’s Notes/Warnings: tags will follow later on Anyway thank you in advance for feedback - would love to know what you think…Also on AO3 through this link Masterlist available through here Bonus: click here for the pinterest moodboard (always updated)

Chapter eleven 1. Sunday birthday brunch at Lizzie’s

After ringing Lizzie’s doorbell, Charlotte glanced down at the colourful bouquet she carried in her hands. The sweet aroma of the flowers filled her lungs with happiness and energy, both very welcome because she felt dead on her feet. 

When she was greeted with her nearest and dearest friends soft and happy laughter bubbled through the air. Charlotte’s smile was wider than she could have held possible and her heart was simply overjoyed. One by one the group of girlfriends fell into each other’s arms with joy, exclaiming excited shrieks and silly little compliments. Oh, she definitely had missed this, all of it.

As expected, the girls’ respective men were fussing over a BBQ in the garden while two  teeny little rascals were attempting to push a ball around in between the two of them. Charlotte sweetly kissed one of the birthday-girls who was patiently cradling her newborn to sleep. Charlotte gladly took a moment to inhale the sweet baby-scent while kissing its head as well, before whispering to her friend how much the little bub resembled its father.  

This was nice, this was good. This is where she’d wanted to be… At the annual birthday brunch that celebrated all ‘three summerbabes’ that were amongst the group of tight-knit friends. It was a lazy event, no pressure. It was all ‘put your feet up’, ‘stay as long as you want’, etc. And just like every year they were all there, without fault. There was no question Charlotte would attend as well, conferences or not. She’d gladly taken a night flight out of Edinburgh for it, because she would not (could not!) miss this for the world. 

Several hugs and kisses later, Lizzie introduced Charlotte to a new face; a man named Michael. Not someone’s new boyfriend, no, no, not this one. He appeared to be a friend of Lizzie’s husband David, a ‘newly single’ and Lizzie couldn’t resist to point that little fact out and not-so-subtly add; ‘like you.’

Charlotte groaned inwardly as she meekly greeted the man who had turned a deeper shade of pink, just like her.  

“Is it just me,” she joked, “or do you feel like we’ve walked into a trap here?”

To her delight Michael smiled and admitted to the sentiment, leaving Lizzie to gasp in fake horror and muttering Charlotte could get her own Mimosa. 

Charlotte chuckled, but quickly left the man behind and for good reason; another man, most definitely nòt called Michael, was currently haunting her mind, body and soul.

>>> Charlotte would have to admit there were worse sights to wake up next to....

Tom looked so perfectly peaceful and relaxed as he lay there next to her. In her hotel room. In her bed. The white bed sheet haphazardly draped over his legs. His curly hair was a mess and she adored it. Even from where she was resting, she could feel his bodily warmth radiating onto her. He smelled so nice. And while she wanted nothing more than to nuzzle against his chest and crawl into his embrace, trailing kisses from his collarbone to that spot behind his ear that made him gasp...  she opted not to. After all, it was quite early still and he was so tired…. 

She smiled to herself softly and deftly unplugged the hotel phone so her morning wake up call wouldn’t wake him. Another convention-day had presented itself and Charlotte reluctantly kicked herself into gear; cautiously sneaking out of the bed and into the bathroom. And while she was mindful not to wake him as she showered and slipped into her clothes, she was utterly clueless on how she ought to proceed after that. Does she leave without a word? Surely not. Should she leave a note? Should she wake him? In her mind she knew very well what she would wànt to do… In an ideal scenario she’d crawl back under the sheets with him, so they could wake whenever it pleased them and come to terms with the aftermath at their own steady pace. But this was not that day. She'd never felt so happy, so sated and at the same time so insecure in her life.

At the sound of her cell phone ringing Charlotte sped out the bathroom to silence the damned thing, bumping her little toe against the bed in the process. Charlotte suppressed a series of heavy curses while stubbornly limping on and grabbing wildly at her phone nonetheless.

The tall silhouette in her bed came to life with a jolt.

"mmmm,"  he groaned, "mmorning," >>>

“Ambush?! What ambush?” Lizzie protested after Charlotte confronted her in the kitchen, “Michael is a friend of David’s. I can't help it if he turns out to be single.”

“Conveniently or not darling, you seem to forget I know your and David’s circle well enough to know that this is absolute bullshit.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes at her friend, “Oh shush! Give him a chance. He's sweet and kind and once you get to know him I'm certain you’ll be forever grateful I introduced the two of you….” 

She shook her head at her friend: Charlotte hàd agreed that Lizzie could set her up on occasion, hadn’t she? Well then…  ‘Brunch is fun with friends. And he is a friend and so is she. Both single. Huh. Imagine that…’ 

Charlotte cursed Lizzie internally as she stomped off; her mind now racing at full speed. However she swiftly calmed down once she was outside again. Especially when laying eyes upon Cait and her first born, promenading around, seemingly on cloud number nine. Cait offered her to hold her little newborn and Charlotte more than happily obliged. Admiring the teeny tiny state of perfection, her mind devilishly reminded her that nothing could scare men off faster that women cooing over a perfect little baby… Perfect! And Charlotte cuddled the little one a tad bit extra because of it … 

>>> Tom bounced up straight when he noticed Charlotte’s predicament. The sheet tactically held in position he scooted to her side of the bed where he wordlessly held out his hands for her to place her foot into it. 

He studies her toes diligently and massaged the pain away. 

So perfect, so lovely, so devilishly handsome even upon waking, although a bit confused as to why she was already dressed and seemingly set to go. >>>

Yes, men definitely tend to run at the sight of their girls - prospective or not - fall in love with babies. But not this one. This one did not run off when a baby was diplomatically involved.

“Hey there little bug,” he greeted the tiny baby, while he offered Charlotte a glass. 

Michael made a generous attempt at small talk. He was nice, attentive and very clearly dragged in the same predicament as she was. He was compassionate, interested, maybe slightly overdressed but Charlotte was nowhere in the mood for this. This was supposed to be brunch. Casual birthday brunch at Lizzie’s - not some kind of a speed date… 

“Yet another summerbug,” he conversed on, “there seems to be a lot of those here.”

He nodded towards her, a question lingering in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Charlotte smiled back good heartedly, “not me though.”

“No?” he sipped from his gin-tonic, “what kind of ‘bug’ are you then?”

Despite not wanting to, she chuckled and bit her lip in utter defiance. She hated it when Lizzie did something right when she so badly wanted it to be wrong.

>>> Charlotte reassured Tom of her good intentions. She was definitely not leaving him without a word. She offered him the cup of coffee she’d made them and felt as if she’d grown wings when he looked at her like that. 

He nodded at her appreciatively. And she easily gave into the urge to smoothly slip her hand over the nape of his neck and into his tousled hair; while answering his doting morning kiss.

So last night, he looked up at her with one raised eyebrow. Mischief written all over his face. She chuckled as she met his expression, "m-hm..." >>>

Charlotte, now babyless, jiggled her leg while partaking in the conversations as the group sat around the table in the garden. 

“She’s nervous,” David nudged his wife.

Lizzie beamed, “told you this would work.”

‘Charlie why don’t you sit over here, next to Michael’. ‘Charlotte did you hear Michael just got back from Dublin?’ ‘Michael, did you know Charlie just flew in from Edinburgh?’ ‘Oh you two, why didn’t we put you together sooner.’ ‘Oh, this makes sense.’ Oh, there were not enough Mimosa’s in the world to end this trail of suffering.  

Charlotte absentmindedly pushed the food around in her plate, before ultimately dropping her cutlery on it. She tried her best to follow the conversation, she really did. But when some friends left the table to put their little kids in their respective cots, her mind has started wandering. 

She vaguely detected David’s intonation went up at the end of a sentence. Apparently a question that required an answer from her. She looked up with a kind “hmm?”

“Edinburgh?” he kindheartedly inquired again. 

“Oh! Yes, erm quite nice, thank you,” she blushed and chuckled. “Did you know, in August they have this festival?"

"Really?"

"Mhm," Charlotte nodded. She’d though this one through well enough now. "Tom showed me around."

"Tom?” Lizzie suddenly piped up while clearing the plates. Ah finally, she’d caught her attention. 

"Yes, Lizzie, Tom,” Charlotte smiled as she slanted her head towards her friend and handing over her own plate. 

"I've heard thàt name before!”

Charlotte rose to her feet and collected a bunch of dishes, ready to follow her friend and continue this conversation in the privacy of Lizzie’s kitchen but her friend seemed to have grown roots on her own lawn. 

"My god, I knew it!” she exclaimed, a small tower of dirty plates in her hans, “these international conventions are paying off...” 

And while Lizzie's mind was brewing up stories, Charlotte could only laugh and shake her head. 

Move woman

"Did you have fun?”

"Yes,” Charlotte nodded, “I did actually.”

"You didn't... " Lizzie’s eyes doubled in size.

"Oh but I did,” 

Michael slightly shifted in his seat.

Oh. Bad form Charlotte, not in front of the prospective one...

David rolled his eyes, "excuse us would you?"

"Yeah I'm," Michael stammered and pointed to David as he quickly followed in his steps. 

"Did he know where everything was??”

"Liz, my god!” Charlotte rolled her eyes as she put the dishes down on the table again, “what are you asking me?”

"Well, you know these days…”

"Trust me,” Charlotte sighed, “he did nòt need GPS-assistance.”

"Oh my god!” Lizzie chirped and tapped her feet on the grass in enthusiasm, “why didn’t you tell me?!”

“Because you simply had no ears for me, love,” Charlotte replied softly.

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” Lizzie sighed, “but ugh!! Now what? Tell me. Tell me all of it. Every single dirty detail. Please. I’ll be all ears now, promise… ”

2. Sunday high tea at Benedict & Sophie’s

Tom chuckled to himself when he saw little Christopher dashing around in the garden as he chased the colourful butterflies that fled from the nearby rose bushes. Christopher looked up at the fluttering little animals with big wondrous eyes. Tom found himself envieing that capacity of looking at the world through childlike eyes, always admiring, always exploring and with that unshakable belief that everything and every one was ‘good’ while in reality that really was not the case. Not often at least.

“Such a lovely family,” he shook his head with a smile before looking back at his friends, “I envy you.”

Benedict snorted while following Tom’s gaze. Sophie on her part only sighed as the baby monitor crackled. Baby Hal was definitely awake now. She thanked Tom once more for his attentive first godfather’s gift before scampering up towards her - for now still - littlest bundle of joy. 

“So how was Fringe?” Benedict questioned as he reached for his drink. 

“Satisfying,” Tom swirled the spoon in his cup of coffee. 

Tom was happy but short in his answers today, Benedict had noticed. 

“Now come on, out with it.” 

“Out with what?”

Benedict flashed him a mirthless smile, he knew his friend better than this. Benedict called out to his son as he sauntered about with his butterfly net, urging him to be a bit more subdued in his actions for fear of him hurting himself. He was met with a witty reply only a 4-year-old could come up with.

They had established the performance had gone very well, the feedback had been tremendous. Tom was meeting up with a renowned director soon for a new play. He’d met up with the friends and relatives. And apparently he had a not-date-like date as well with pleasurable outcome... 

“You know, for a man who just got freaky at Fringe,” Benedict chortled at his own joke, “I would expect to see you a tad bit more... upbeat?”

Tom huffed to himself before sipping from his coffee again, which triggered a dramatic frown from Benedict.

“I mean, let’s recap here shall we?”

“You kissed the girl,” Benedict stated, “and I can assume you wanted to kiss this girl, right?” 

“Yes,” a firm nod from Tom.

“You slept together,” Benedict squeezed his eyes into two fine lines.

“Affirmative sir,” again a firm nod. 

“Then what is with the mood dear friend? I would think…” 

Tom sighed gravely, where did he begin…

 >>> Charlotte nodded when he repeated her “11 PM? As in tonight? Your flight is tonight?”

"It's a Fringe thing apparently. Night flight or no flight..."

Tom was astounded; their schedule couldn't have been more diverse. When the conference concluded, he was already working interviews and set for performing subsequently. This was no good, no good at all… 

He sighed and put his tired brain to work. He suggested a bar right outside the city centre. A cosy remote little place where they could meet up again in privacy after his performance and before her departure. A place where she would be able to catch a taxi easily, almost instantly even. And if his mind didn’t deceive him, they would have a little bit more over an hour. Not much, but so very craved. 

To his delight, she instantly and cheerfully agreed and amorously returned the kiss he rewarded her with. >>>

“Hang on,’’ Benedicted waved his hands under closed eyes, “supposed to?”

“Well, I got caught in …” 

“No,” Benedict buried his head in his hand and muttered, “Tom, honestly, no.” 

“Well, what was I supposed to do?” 

“Slip out the back, avoid the crowd, explain you have to get somewhere in time...”

“I tried,” Tom protested quietly.

“Well,’ his friend groaned, “not enough it would seem.”

Tom chastised himself and he couldn't blame Benedict when he straightforward spat out it was forever the story of Tom’s life. Forever putting his career, or his reputation, first. Making an effort to be likeable and stay likeable for hoards of fans. To the point his personal life suffered because of it. As if everything else would pause for him as well. Open up your eyes my dear friend! Life goes ever on. If you miss the train, don't expect someone to send the limo back to pick you up. On or off, but decide now. 

Tom squirmed in his seat uneasily. It hadn't occurred to him like thàt until now really. But did Benedict really had to spell it out so harshly though? Tom had argued with him initially; saying it had nothing to do with fans or reputation or any of that. He just felt awful because he had left things up in the air between them. And as a matter of fact he was really intent on seeing or speaking with her again. Truly, honestly. 

Benedict sighed, clearly not buying any of it.

“So,” he exhaled loudly, “was this a one-night affair?”

“I – I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know,” he dropped his hand on the table with a dramatic chuckle, “how can you not know?” 

“It’s complicated,” Tom disputed. 

“Try me,” Benedict dared his friend, “because it’s fairly easy… do you see yourself without her or not?" he paused, "could you continue without pursuing this and look back without regret? In short - what does Sadie mean to you?"

Tom scrunched his nose and shook his head vehemently, "Sadie? Sadie’s not..." 

"Well then, there is your answer," Benedict interjected his reasonings. “See? Easy!” 

It was no secret Benedict didn't particularly care much for Sadie. In his mind the young actress hung around Tom in all sympathy, but pushed towards a romantic connection in public for more press attention. He could be mistaken though, he did admit this to his friend. But he had also been quick to add he wasn't mistaken about these things very often. 

"I meant to say,” Tom interposed on his friend, “that this is not about Sadie, it's Charlotte..."

He noticed Benedict look up at him dumbfounded, his eyebrows raised in complete and utter surprise, “Charlotte?” 

It took him a moment before several profanities came falling from his lips.

"Yeah, tried that too," Tom snorted under a mirthless smile before downing the last of his coffee, "didn't work."

3. Sunday birthday brunch at Lizzie’s continued

“So??” Lizzie repeated anxiously, “now what?” 

“I don't know,” Charlotte shrugged with a chuckle. 

“What do you mean, you don't know,” Lizzie rolled her eyes, “call him, text him, go on. If you have chemistry, you only need one other thing. Timing.”

“Ah, but timing's a bitch. Besides, he hasn't really reached out to me, so I think it's pretty clear that this was all there is…” Charlotte didn’t know who she was soothing more; Lizzie or her own broken heart. 

“I just wanted to make clear that setting me up today might not have been the best idea, sweetheart…”Charlotte sighed, “it was a bit much and a bit too soon.”

"But Charlie, you need to get back out there again,” Lizzie contested kindly, “I’m afraid you'll turn from wallflower to wallpaper if you keep standing on the side…”

"Dramaqueen!”

"Truth”

"I know, I know, but, you know… got laid,” Charlotte winked, “I'm getting there alright? Baby steps,” she gestured as she put her thumb and index finger close together.

>>> She arrived at the bar early and fiddled with the complementaries her tea had offered her. She felt as giddy like a schoolgirl waiting of her crush. Only said crush did not arrive upon the agreed hour. 15 minutes went by, then half an hour. This was not good. Charlotte checked her phone for the umpteenth time. The battery was still at 78%

She mentally thanked a colleague of hers who offered her a powerbank in the afternoon when Charlotte had noticed her phone battery running low. One night out of the ordinary and her usual routine had gone right out the window. She never put her phone into flight mode that night, nor did she load up the battery and it showed. She was however desperate not to fall off the radar that day. Because she did not, could not, miss a call from him, or a text, or anything basically. 

She professed her eternal gratitude to said lady. Her battery level went up, however incoming messages remained at steady zero. Charlotte didn’t really take too much note of it. He had his own calendar to work through today. But now, well passed their established hour her frustration level came to higher lever…. 

Maybe he was delayed, she pondered. Maybe this, maybe that. Her mind was fully aware of the pretty realistic fact that he would not show up, but her heart wasn’t ready to believe that yet. Until 40 minutes had gone by. Charlotte rose to her feet and paid for her bill. As Tom had predicted, she got a taxi very easily. She looked left and right once more while the drive loaded her baggage. Nothing. 

Getting into the vehicle she softly huffed to herself, "silly girl, what did you expect?"

It wasn't so much his failure to show up that hurt her, it was more his incessant ability to simply not communicate. Promising someone to show up and failing to do so is just so not done. Charlotte would rather have the stone cold truth. Right there. In her face. Don't sweet talk, name the things for what they are. But apparently actors just loved to act… Charlotte rolled her eyes, ashamed for her own gullibility and left for the airport. >>>

“Well, maybe something is wrong with your phone?” Lizzie muttered as she fished out Charlotte’s device out of her purse. 

“You've watched too many romcom's sweetheart,” Charlotte muttered whilst washing the dishes in Lizzie’s kitchen.

“Seriously though!” Lizzie insisted, “I texted you this morning.”

“You did not Liz, you think you did but I think we have well established your mind is everywhere except in the present. One year older, one year….”

“You're on flight mode, you dummy!” Lizzie squealed out. 

“I’m wha?” Charlotte muttered while quickly drying her hands, “I am not, gimme….”

“I knèw it!” Lizzie tittered on triumphant while Charlotte’s cell phone went into a small beeping frenzy, “there he is,” she added in a sing-song voice. 

While Lizzie nagged on, Charlotte’s heart leapt into her throat. Of course! She hadn’t lost all hope on him. Or them. Not just yet. Well, maybe just a little bit. As she quickly scanned for Tom’s messages, her heart swelled and her faith in him restored itself swiftly.  

> Thinking of you

> Not much longer...

> Charlotte, wait for me please!

> Nearly there….

> Charlotte, where are you?

> I can't find you... 

He’d left her a voicemail. Of course he would! Her heart thudded in her chest and she excused herself, anxious to hear his voice again. 

She heard him sigh and hesitate.

You're gone. A pause. Charlotte, I... 

Maybe I was too late, maybe I didn't see you or maybe you weren't here to begin with (bitter laugh) sorry about that... I just…. I only wanted to say (a pause) I have no regrets. None (a pause) I … I just feel so awful that I didn't see you again tonight. I wish ... (he sighed). God I wish I could have said goodbye properly. You don't know how I've longed to see you again... 

Charlotte's hands clasped over her mouth. One night, picture perfect. And then… the hunt was over. The loot had been collected. On to the next apparently. The puzzle pieces finally slid into place. Her heart sank into her shoes, and she fought back a rush of emotion that fell on to her. Goodbye? Honestly?

“And?” Lizzie tilted her head curiously, “what did he say? When will you see him again.” 

“I erm,” Charlotte shrugged, “I won’t.”

“Well,” she sighed dramatically, anxious to switch the subject, “that’s that then. What about dessert?”

4. Sunday high tea at Benedict & Sophie’s continued

Benedict remained mute and slightly dumbfounded after Tom had finished filling him in on the need-to-know details of Edinburgh. Only when Sophie resurfaced with little Hal on her arm, he gestured wildly and managed to mutter to his wife, “Charlotte!! It’s Charlotte.”

“Well of course it is,” Sophie beamed knowingly, “who else?” 

“But, but,” he heaved his shoulders up helplessly, “how do you know this?”

“I just do,” 

And as Sophie confessed that she suspected there was somethere ‘there’ on Benedict’s birthday party, a reluctant Tom admitted that they had in fact kissed at ComiCon less than 2 weeks prior. Benedict felt like a fish out of the water at this confession, claiming he was there and how could he not know this. Sophie however deftly shut him up by offering him baby Hal and seating herself next to the two men at the table. 

“So,” Sophie questioned him, “is there a problem I fail to see?”

“I don’t know. I texted her...I tried calling her but her phone was switched off. So I left a voice message and … nothing,” Tom shrugged.

Benedict offered him a slow clap, which Hal quickly tried to mimic. 

“Yeah, clearly, you’ve done all you can…”

“Tom,” Sophie clasped her hand over his, “ignore Bigfoot there. What is it you want? 

“It’s stupid, it’s silly, it’s a dead-end. We live miles apart,”

Benedict coughed, “Taylor.”

Hal giggled as he tried hacking and gagging to his daddy’s resemblance. Benedict doted on his youngest boy and encouraged his antics while Tom laughingly urged his friend to shut up.

“Alright, alright, then forget about her. She hasn’t responded to your texts or your one and only - I feel I must emphasize - phone call. Too bad, the joke’s on her, turn around and move on.” 

Tom’s eyes drooped down as he came to a full understanding and nodded accordingly. 

"I feel I need I repeat my question : do you see yourself without her or not?" Benedict paused, "could you continue without pursuing this and look back without regret?”

“Well, I càn live without her. There is no question about that,” Tom shrugged. “You know the first time we met, I thought she was intelligent and beautiful, and absolutely perfect. And now I’ve come to realize that she isn’t. At all. She is not perfect; she’s got her scars and her emotional baggage.”

“And?” Sophie urged with a smile, “my morning chocolate for the fact that this made matters even worse.”

Tom sighed and looked over at a loudly giggling Christopher in the garden. 

“I think that’s your answer right there…” Sophie quietly added. 

"You know, Sophie and I didn't happen overnight,” Benedict followed her reasonings to which she snorted. 

“And we do not live on cloud number nine. A relationship is work,” she confessed on her turn, 

“But I love her so much, that it hardy feels like work..."

“Ah,” Sophie winked in good humour “you see, and it works both ways…”

“When you hesitate, Tom, you take the plunge. Or you’ll regret it forever,” Benedict hastened to say. “Which means you’ll be on my case about it. Also forever.”

[theheartofpenelope]

Simple Things : Chapter fourteen

Excerpt - Because when someone manages to make you the happiest person and the saddest person at the same time, that's when it's real. That's when it's worth something. But her friend kept mum and it drove Lizzie up the wall. Oh yes, the part of an innocent bystander did not become her… never had, never would.  Tag list: @winterisakiller, @devikafernando, @scorpionchild81, @messy-insomniac-bookgirl, @smutsausage, @hiddlesbitch1 @noplacelikehome77 @wolfsmom1 @meh1217 @dina-bln @lilaeye39 @tinchentitri @fairlightswiftly @nonsensicalobsessions @wolfsmom1 @stmeiou @ink-and-starlight @givemecocoaa @profkmoriarty13 @nikkalia @massivelemon @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @argo-shila @emoietmoi@redfoxwritesstuff @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @raining-litter @theoneanna @coppercorn-and-cauldron @turniptitaness @shadyskit @memoriesat30 @antyc67 @just-the-hiddles @sheris532 @marggot4 @jennytwoshoes @nibtime @hiddlescastle @funnygirlthatgab @deebee9114

Author’s Notes/Warnings: tags will follow later on Anyway thank you in advance for feedback - would love to know what you think…Also on AO3 through this link Masterlist available through here Bonus: click here for the pinterest moodboard (always updated)

Chapter 14 : Athens and a slice of home

1. Curious Lizzie

Friends had quickly detected a subtle change in Charlotte’s behaviour. She seemed softer, tired still but….  happier and maybe a bit more carefree…could that be? Lizzie did not hesitate to, one day, point out  ‘Charlie’s apparent delirious happiness’ .

Ok she might have embellished a bit in that department, but for all the best reasons though. She had teased her friend at first with offhandedly inquiring if perhaps it was because business was going well, earning herself that ‘non-disclosing Charlie-smile’.

Truth of the matter was that Lizzie was fairly sure a certain ‘Tom’ had his hand in Charlie’s new-found bliss. And the annoying fact that her friend still remained to keep the matter under wraps peaked her curiosity only more.

An inquiry along the likes of a  "how's Tom?" was standard met with a chuckle and a serene "good-good, he's fine." But that was as far as she would get. It frustrated her beyond measure that she could list the information she had on him on just one hand. Yes, one hand, five fingers and she knew this to be a fact because she had recited them, all five of them, to her husband David one night.

‘his name is Tom,

he’s British,

Charlie finds him quite handsome,

supposedly he’s also intelligent,

and quite attentive.

Even while low on statistics Lizzie did have to conclude these were at least proper traits, ‘but generic as fuck! We haven’t even seen him or a picture of him. Oh come òn David... ‘

“So, when do the rest of us get to meet him?” Lizzie’d finally blurted out over iced coffee on a sultry afternoon, “it seems about time, no?”

This was a reasonable request though, wasn’t it? If Lizzie did the math correctly at least two weeks or so had passed since their infamous summerbabes-celebration…. two to perhaps three weeks - tops! - since Charlie’s trip to Scotland and her night of rapture over there. And while Charlie had expertly danced around her obvious discouragement after checking her voicemail in Lizzie’s kitchen, over the following fortnight she had slowly transformed back into a very delighted young woman, who was now - against all odds - back in high spirits…

Sure, Lizzie had pondered, Charlie was in talks to work with the Royal London Hospital but that deal was nowhere near set. So both her regret and her newfound cheerfulness hàd to be because of Tom, there was simply no other logical explanation… And that’s exactly what triggered Lizzie even more. Because when someone manages to make you the happiest person and the saddest person at the same time, that's when it's real. That's when it's worth something. But her friend kept mum and it drove Lizzie up the wall. Oh yes, the part of an innocent bystander did not become her… never had, never would.

Charlotte cast her eyes downward to her drink with a slight smile. With her hot pink straw she carelessly dunked the ice cubes while her mind tried to come up with a plan to meet this well-meant request with a sufficient, yet rejecting, answer. Because this was something she and Tom had not yet addressed themselves, not really though…

From out of the corner of her eye Charlotte could clearly see David nudging his wife.

“What? Oh, long distance - shminstance,” Lizzie muttered to her husband.

Still trying to figure out her answer, Charlotte caught her breath when she heard David kindly interjecting;  

“Just let her revel in her little honeymoon-phase, babe,” and he planted a sweet kiss on Lizzie’s temple, “remember when we first got together?”

Charlotte was ever so grateful for that silly, small remark that had shut Lizzie up very promptly.  Good man, that David. Eternally grateful even. But she did make a mental note to doctor out a way to diplomatically answer the next request she would surely be receiving sooner or later. No, Tom and her hadn’t really talked about any of this. And from the looks of it they really should, she guessed. First thing when she’d gotten back from Athens... the next destination she was flying out to later that night.

2. Beautiful Athens

Goes to show you never really can tell. Charlotte had opted to fly out to Athens in the early evening to avoid the heat and city traffic, only to realise that Athens was not at all as hot as she had imagined it to be. It seemed the Western part of Europe was boiling up, while the Southern part was actually quite agreeable and - low and behold - even managed to surprise her with short - yet intense - rain shower. What were the odds?

It initially had seemed to be a perfect evening for a hike up the Philopappos Hill, which promised a stupendous view of the Acropolis in all its glory. And boy, did it deliver... Grateful for the opportunity her life now offered her to travel gorgeous cities and see breathtaking sites, Charlotte had apped Tom the astonishing view that had unfolded itself in front of her. No words needed.

Philopappos Hill, that held the Philopappos Monument, had been quite the discovery… In the fifties it was declared an archeological park that consisted of ‘the Hill of the Muses’, ‘the Hill of the Nymphs’ and the ‘Pnyx’ which had been the meeting of democratic legislatures in ancient times. And while of historical, architectural and even archeological importance, it was also the home of indigenous birds, including the Athenian owl and the peregrine falcon. It was an important stop-over for many migratory birds and then there were the land tortoises and the numerous bats that had scared Charlotte shitless at first, .... Talk about another great picture-opportunity -gone-wrong, but she’d sent it to Tom anyway, in good humour.

Listed by UNESCO as a protected monument of cultural heritage and yet it remained open to all, day and night, free of charge. All that thanks to a movement in Athens that stood by its belief that the best protection for the hill was guaranteed by the love, care and active participation of the local people. Philopappos Hill’s state and beauty had left Charlotte absolutely speechless and amazed. And - well - drenched after that sudden heavy rainfall that had come out of seemingly nowhere…

An hour or so later, Charlotte happily and lazily stretched out in the luxurious bathtub at the Plaka Hotel, revelling in the warm water and the generous amount of bubbles she’d indulged in. She counted her lucky stars for that streak of luck that had brought her there careerwise, before her mind started mulling how on earth she had managed to pull an almost 180° on an emotional level in the same process… Because up until recently a pang of guilt had always plagued her when the concept of ‘another man’ - other than her now ex-husband - was being brought to her attention.

Post-divorce, after all discussions had ended and possessions had been divided, after all the dust had settled and the air had been cleared, Charlotte was relieved to find that she didn’t really miss someone. And when she dìd start meeting men ( mostly the result of a well-meant yet awkward set-up)  it was a bit of a relief to her that she didn’t run into someone who would meet up to the - admittingly - ridiculously high-ranged checklist she had cooked up in the back of her mind.

Ah well. When single and desperate in wanting to remain that way, you just shoot for the moon, right?

So, men and dating… it was a non-issue, really. Charlotte had figured she would give herself the luxury of time. She owed herself that much. Time to take care of herself, she was adamant about that part. Time to get her career onto the desired path by investing fully in (nearly all) the challenges she would stumble across. Needless to say that, at that point, romance could or would only hold her back. Well, at least that’s what Charlotte figured. And with her past, who could blame her…  So she desperately attempted to avoid that particular path, at any cost. She wanted, no needed, to spread her wings and fly on her own. At least for a little while. To be who she’d longed to be again and - first and foremost - to be true to herself. And preferable stay that way as well… And then  he  came along.  Dealbreaker . And he messed up all the rules without realising it. Or did he?

It had been quite a surprise to Charlotte how Tom had managed to settle himself under her skin the way he’d done. And once she’d fully allowed herself to give into that knowledge and the temptation and all it encompassed, she’d found herself truly well lost and it had freaked her out immensely.

For that exact reason Charlotte was tremendously appreciative of her hectic work schedule, for it mercilessly ‘demanded’ that their time together would be restricted, split up in small fragments over time; fragments that were never enough but had to make-do... It would be gruelling and demanding for any lovestruck couple, but for Charlotte all it meant was that she could take things easy. She could ease into it. DIp her toe it, see how it felt. And no person was to blame for it, only her work. It truly was a blessing in disguise.

Now in truth, Tom wasn’t exactly putting his feet up either. So his schedule was partly to blame for this as well. More than occasionally he’d have to fly across Europe for a meeting concerning future developments. And somehow this had led to secret get-togethers abroad… After Vienna Charlotte had travelled on to Budapest and Dubrovnik, before making a passage in Prague. And she genuinely adored Tom for creating time and opportunity to meet up whenever and wherever possible.

On her part, Charlotte had gladly taken to Heathrow as her new airport of choice, where they could meet up whether for lunch when she was in between flights or once for a late dinner before she would rail back home.

Currently in Athens, she was up for Napels next for a mini-cruise that would take her to Rome. Of all the things imaginable! Trust neurologist to have their professional association to work ‘a little something special’ out… But before that she would have a stop at home. A couple of days of normality and none too soon. To her delight Charlotte realised that in about 3 days she was also set to meet Tom again.

Oh dear sweet heaven, I’m counting down the days now…  

3. London to Athens

Even early on, Tom had always kindly urged Charlotte to text him when she’d arrived on her destination safely. A gesture he gladly returned of course. It delighted him that soon her messages evolved to silly apps containing nothing more than a picture of her on a balcony or some other mouth watering location as if to prove ‘doing alright’ or ‘wish you were here’ or even ‘look what you’ve missed out on’. She could be such a tease and that thrilled him so, especially when geography was not on their side...

These days he caught himself, sometimes impatiently so, awaiting what she would send him next. And without fault he would grin widely when he took note that she had upped the ante, time and time again. She had humour and didn’t take herself too serious. Oh, how he loved that aspect of her particularly.

Upon returning to his London home after another trip to Mallorca, he had dutifully put down his bags and went along his usual coming-home routine before picking up his beloved Bobby. The chocolate brown Spaniël was absolutely overjoyed at the reunion with his master and very gladly pranced proudly by his side when they took an impromptu detour across Primrose Hill.

This was lovely, absolutely enjoyable,  Tom had reflected,  but her company would have made a very nice extra…

When his cell phone beeped and disclosed an app of a drenched Charlotte upon a Greek hillside claiming she’d perfected her ‘Rain Dance Deluxe’, he couldn’t help but chuckle out loud.

Scratch that. Her company would have been perfect right now.  

Upon returning home, Tom had eyed his still-packed bags with a sense of scrutiny and uncertainty. He really ought to unpack them, he was well aware. Yet he turned on his heels, rewarding Bobby with a loving pat on the head and urging him along for his dinner…

Bobby was completely unaware of his master biting the nail of his thumb. After all, when being pampered with a delicious ‘master-is-back-home-meal’, all he wanted to do was happily devoured it, context be damned. So he also did not take note of his master aimlessly fidgeting around with his phone while he licked his bowl clean. He did however detect a heavy sigh falling from his master’s lips, but that one could not be on him. Could it? Bobby licked along his bowl once more before calmly lapping up the fresh water in his drinking bowl.

The Spaniël curiously turned his ears as he heard the familiar sounds of the kettle being set. Retiring to his favourite dog bed, he followed the scene before him with anxious eyes because he clearly heard his master sigh heavily and mumble to himself yet again. Was he walking over now? Indeed! Crouching down to his level, Bobby was rewarded with another loving scruff over his head and under his chin. Oh, he’d definitely been a good boy for that, hadn’t he?

“You’re happy to happy home, aren’t you boy?”

Bobby wagged his tail lazily in utter delight and looked up through droopy tired eyes.

“Hmm, such a good boy…. I shouldn’t be leaving you again so soon, should I?”

Tom sank down to his level and opted to sit by his side. Bobby raised and slanted his head curiously, because this maneuver was new to him. However he gladly gave into temptation and placed his head onto his master’s knee while he fumbled around with his phone again, dialing a newly familiarized number.

Now, there was only so much he could follow. He was still a dog after all… But his master opted for the speaker so he could carry on stroking his beloved Bobby while talking.  

“What if,” his master spoke up suddenly. “What if – what?” a woman replied. “What if – you got home and…’ he hesitated, “I would be there?”

Water splashed to which Bobby quietly and anxiously growled… much to his master’s delight.

“Oh, you really àre in a bath, aren’t you?’ he exclaimed in a husky voice, “I knèw I should should have gone with a video chat.” “I never lie,” the woman confessed humorously, “but - also - what are you saying?” “If you have the time. If you’re willing to have me. If you …” “That’s a lot of ‘ifs’...”

Bobby sensed his master seeking refuge in silent nervous laughter. And then felt the loving petting stop when the woman replied, “I have work though.”

“I - I understand completely,” Bobby’s master paused, “then… we’ll just see each other on the weekend then, as we’d planned.” A pause, “right?” “No.” “No?” His master hunched forward some in surprise.

Bobby heard the woman laughing and apologising profusely, something about “surprising” and “not knowing where her head was”.  Silly woman. Something with “whenever you want” and “please” and lots of those good praising words. She even mumbled Bobby’s name at one point.

“Did you hear that boy?” his master cooed to him after ending said phonecall later that evening, “Charlotte insists I take you with me on a little holiday. What do you think? Bobby? Holiday?” But by that time Bobby had been massaged while into his own little land of dreams… 

4. So, this is me...

Charlotte’s heart pounded into her chest as she ushered Tom and Bobby inside her home, muttering a “so, this is me…” and she gestured around inside.

“You’re welcome to stay, if you want,” she blabbered on nervously before rolling her eyes at herself.

Seriously Charlotte? Who are you talking to?

“I could easily book a hotel, you know,” Tom, ever so quick on his feet, retorted to which Charlotte raised her brow playfully and chuckled bashfully.

“I’m kidding,” he murmured while cautiously setting his bag on the wooden floor and gently inched closer to her, “I’m just so happy to see you are just as nervous as I am.”

“Are you though?” Charlotte scrunched up her nose. And to her delight he closed his eyes momentarily and nodded softly with a purred “mmm”. Bobby however ruined the sweet moment with an impatient tug on his leash and subsequent spinning around Tom, desperate to go and explore his new surroundings.

And so, with an endearing smile, Charlotte bent through her knees apologising and exclaiming she should take care of her favourite guest first and foremost. As she cooed over Bobby, sweetly praising and ruffling his fur, Bobby kindly returned her greeting with the attempt of jumping up to her which Tom quickly forbade him to do. Much to Charlotte’s amusement.

She suggested Tom to unleash him, which he hesitantly did after sternly reminding Bobby not to run. It was quite the sight and Charlotte couldn’t help but smile to herself.

Very swiftly Bobby spotted the drinking bowl she’d set up for him in the kitchen. And he lapped up the water gratefully before setting out to search the premises. The soft pitter-patter of his paws and gentle ticks of his nails quietly set through the downstairs living area. It was a sound that reminded Charlotte of her own childhood and still cherished deeply...

She unlocked the kitchen door that led to her cosy little garden, while Tom promptly rolled out Bobby’s travelling doggy-bed onto the hallway floor before following in Charlotte’s footsteps. Bobby followed suit, before roguishly diving into the garden curious-snout first. Charlotte laughed heartily as Bobby went along before easing an insecure Tom he would be alright in her closed-off, dog-proof garden.

He instantly relaxed and leant back against the door jamb.

“I know it’s dark out, but it feels so nice and quiet here,”

“Private,” Charlotte smiled, “drink?”

With a nod he wordlessly followed her path around the kitchen island.

“So, Charlie?” he pointed to the wooden ornament dangling on the key chain at her door.

“Nickname,”

“Charlie,” he pursed his lips as he slanted his head, “I like it…”

He smiled after sneaking another peek inside her living room once more while she fixed them refreshing drinks, “exactly how I imagined it.”

“Oh?” an intriguing smile crept across her lips “and what did you imagine then?”

“Well, I imagined a long sofa, with plenty of comfortable cushions. Shelves filled with books, ...”

Charlotte titterd and shook her head, “Cheater! I told you about that.”

“Fine, fine,” he held up his hands as an act of innocence as he walked over to her in the kitchen again.

“I’ll go again. I -  imagined big windows that invite a lot of light. Erm, I imagined a small garden,” he continued while striding closer to her still, “but I can’t see anything there, so help me god.” A chuckle fell from his lips, “I also pictured an all white kitchen, with… marble countertops.”

“Marble countertops?”

“M-hm” he hummed, “solid, sturdy, marble countertops,” he emphasized as he closed the distance finally and swiftly lifted her up on them.

“Hi,” he murmured while his nose teased hers.

“Hi,” she breathed back, anxious for that kiss she’d been longing for ever since he stepped onto her threshold.

“Am jealous of Bobby though,”

“Are you now?"

He nodded and slid his hands softly over her knees and up her thighs before holding onto her hips with firm care, “he’s gotten wày more attention than I have.”

“Hmm,” she sighed, her hands gently combing through his generous curls, “and we can’t have that, now can we?”

He shook his head, and she caught that mischievous twinkle in his eyes sparkling in full force. It was all she needed to lure her in, and happily she brought her hands to his cheeks before leaning in for a sweet kiss on his lips.

“Missed you,” he mumbled against her mouth. And that was just the final straw.

A wistful sigh escaped her mouth and he captured her lips again with his. She responded instantly and so they finally reunited with passion, with fervour and a very blatant desire. There’s no decorum here anymore. It had been too long. Way too long and she was pleased he agreed with her.

His lips conveyed her of how much he had missed her, longed for her and his fingertips firmly slid up her thighs, trying to raise up her clothing in the process. Charlotte made a quick mental note not to opt for a playsuit again, no matter how cute and sexy, on the eve of reuniting with a lover because his lustful groans suddenly turned to slightly frustrated ones when he failed to figure the garment out.

A mild happy whimper escaped her lips however when his hand circled around her backside and forcefully scooted her closer to him and the growing bulge in his jeans. And all Charlotte could to was grab onto his shirt as she pushed her hips into him needily.

Desperation. Could that be a fitting word here? Absolute desperation? To feel his skin on hers again. To have him fall apart because of her doing again? Her mind gets clouded though when his tongue started a delirious path down her neck before his fingertips tugged the straps of her clothing off of her shoulders. She can hear him mutter how the sun has spoiled her but is unable to reply at this point. Instead she locked her legs around his waist, in a desperate need for that friction.

A groan and he grabbed onto her hips even more fiercely, growling something about ‘where next’ and it takes her a while to realise he’s talking about the directions to her bedroom. Luckily Bobby was having the time of his life in the garden because the two barely made it across the hallway and ended up in her reading chair, Charlotte on top, bringing both herself and Tom to a nearly simultaneous but earth-shattering climax.

Satisfying and fulfilling.

Easily, effortlessly.

Addictive.

Oh dear. 

5. Settling in

With remorse Charlotte left for the office the following day, only to return to her home where the windows had let the fresh air in all day. A dining set was out on the terrace and soft lounge music played in the background while a handsome man lazed in her garden, catching up on some reading. And Bobby? He relaxed under the shade of the shrubbery as if he owned the place.

Charlotte very much enjoyed seeing Tom lounging in the hammock, his long legs stretched out. His one ankle resting across the other one, a book propped up in his one hand while his other arm lazily bent over his head.

Tiptoeing over to him, she knelt down quietly in the green grass by his side so she could surprise him with a soft kiss on his cheek. He hummed deliciously, dropping the paperback onto his chest and stretching out his arms to her, wanting to draw her near.

These were probably the best moments, Charlotte pondered. The ones were he lay in her garden, so free of sorrow or stress. No clocks dictating their lives. Bobby either happily chasing butterflies or resting in the shade.

He muttered for her to 'come hither' and pulled her into his lap. Charlotte giggled and shrieked, claiming the hammock wouldn't last this way. But he would have none of it.

She could spot his laughing wrinkles at the sides of his eyes, and softly caressed them. She could spy her own happy reflection in his ray-bans. So perfectly happy.

"What are you reading?" she asked and wilfully followed the direction he guided her in. With her head resting on his chest,  he grabbed hold of the paperback and read out loud to her. Oh yes, she could get used to this… And she happily informed him later on she’d re-arranged her schedule so she’d be able to work from her home the next couple of days. So it would be just the two of them. ‘Against the world’ , he’d teased.

He was adapting so well, it boggled her mind sometimes. But Tom gladly admitted he truly was happy there, very happy, in their little cocoon. Nobody knew where he was. Well nobody of the outside world. He revelled in the fact he could just shut the door behind him there in her home town and nobody would be any the wiser. It was private, safe, secret. It was all he ever longer for. Not to be hunted anymore. Being able to step out with Bobby to the nearby park and be left in absolute privacy. Going out for an impromptu errand and be left in peace. Being able to kiss someone without having the media shred them to pieces when all they had for now was still so frail and new. And moreover uncertain whether any future could come out of it, although he was all-in already.

There was only one little twinge by the end of his stay. When her doorbell rang, and Charlotte started muttering gibberish under her breath. She’d asked him to hide and to lay low and promised he would thank her later. So Tom saw no reason not to oblige to her request.

But when he realised it was a friend coming over, and a close one at that, questions did arise. The woman was clearly surprised Charlotte had a dog over and he could tell there was some curious questioning going on before the visit ultimately ended.

When he sweetly asked Charlotte later who the woman was, he was appalled that the woman was in fact Charlotte’s best friend Lizzie. And it made him contemplate out loud whether Charlotte was hiding her boyfriend, or  him as her boyfriend?

"Boyfriend?" Charlotte grinned, "Is that what we're calling it?"

And with that she crawled over to him to tempt him into a luring kiss.

"Now love, come on," he furrowed his brow.

"I'm just,” she sighed, her eyes pleading, “not ready to share you yet."

At his silence she softly nuzzled his neck, “I'll do that thing you like ..."

Well, anything really, if it kept his interest away from the matter. And away from the fact the Lizzie was already pushing towards meeting Tom. But Tom’s cheeks flushed crimson, before he cleared his throat with a "darling, you know you better…”

Apparently this was not working and with a sigh she let herself fall back into the bed next to him while he reasoned that her best friend wasn't quite the outside world, and that despite their promise to be discrete he would honestly be ok with it if she would want to confide in her.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Charlotte sighed, “Lizzie is wonderful and very dear to me. And she's also the one who's been most on my case for …”

“For…?”

“For keeping to myself. For shutting off in the past.”

Tom propped his head up on his hand and she could feel his eyes flickering over her.

“She was probably genuinely concerned,”

“Myeah,” Charlotte agreed, “I'm just afraid I guess that she'll only get ahead of things, while I really feel this need to take my time and take this slow.”

Her fingertips trailed over his thigh, apparently she was on a better path now because his lips curved into a soft smile and his eyebrow quirkily while his voice dropped about an octave, "I like it slow..."

Charlotte grinned and tilted her head up to him, he teased his nose against hers.

“Thought you might…”

[theheartofpenelope]

Simple Things : Chapter Thirteen

Excerpt - Yet here she was, strolling through the Schönbrunn Palace Gardens, her hand safely tucked in the palm of the man who had promised to come whisk her away for the evening. Tom had informed her that he had planned on wooing her that night. Tag list: @winterisakiller, @devikafernando, @scorpionchild81, @messy-insomniac-bookgirl, @smutsausage, @hiddlesbitch1 @noplacelikehome77 @wolfsmom1 @meh1217 @dina-bln @lilaeye39 @tinchentitri @fairlightswiftly @nonsensicalobsessions @wolfsmom1 @stmeiou @ink-and-starlight @givemecocoaa @profkmoriarty13 @nikkalia @massivelemon @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @argo-shila @emoietmoi @redfoxwritesstuff @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @raining-litter @theoneanna @coppercorn-and-cauldron @turniptitaness @shadyskit @memoriesat30 @antyc67 @just-the-hiddles @sheris532 @marggot4 Author’s Notes/Warnings: tags will follow later on Anyway thank you in advance for feedback - would love to know what you think…Also on AO3 through this link Masterlist available through here Bonus: click here for the pinterest moodboard (always updated)

Chapter Thirteen : Vienna 

1. Charlotte did her best to keep her facial features under control. She took a deep breath and tried to keep her mind focused on something else, anything else, fearing she just might break out in a besotted smile if she didn’t. And this was not the time nor the place to do just that. 

From inside the hotel lobby Charlotte had a clearly view of see Tom waiting on her. As she neared the sliding doors she noticed him standing tall next to a taxi. A taxi?  

To her delight he’d caught her walking up to him and his lips curved into a content smile, his one eyebrow slowly lifted disclosing his (though slightly anxious) excitement. Well, that didn’t help things at all. And Charlotte was surprised at the amount of willpower she needed to prevent herself from just running up to him and falling apart in his arms. 

No, no, she would be cool about this, she reminded herself as she walked through the hotel’s entrance and steady on closer to Tom. So very sophisticated and ladida, acting as if nothing could ever knock her of her feet. Not his admiring gaze (there goes my heart), not the smile that reached up into his eyes (hello good sir) and certainly not the softest kiss on her cheek that might have lingered on a tad bit too long.

Charlotte pressed her fingertips into his arms as Tom’s cologne dizzied her. Oh how badly did she want to slightly tilt her head and brush her lips up against his. But she shouldn’t, she couldn't. They needed to be discreet. 

She gladly allowed him to escort her into the awaiting taxi. And when he’d urged the driver to head on, she wanted to remark in all honesty how completely silly and unnecessary this was. Her hotel was smackdown in the center of Vienna. Everything was within walking range….

But then it dawned on her. Just a ride around the block. Just enough time to put his lips on hers. 

“Good heavens darling, this day went on for too long....”

2. It felt a bit strange to her, strange it that funky out-of-your-body-type of experience. Was this her life? Was this her reality? Wasn't she supposed to be networking, making connection for future endeavours, mingling with the in-crowd? Stretching her mind in academic discussion about legal competence and end-of-life care? 

Yet here she was, strolling through the Schönbrunn Palace Gardens, her hand safely tucked in the palm of the man who had promised to come whisk her away for the evening. Tom had informed her that he had planned on wooing her that night. She'd chuckled in absolute delight as he laid out his plans. Things had evolved so fast up until that point he now solemnly believed he needed to slow down the process. More than that really; he wanted to go back a few steps and make a start the way things he found should start. He wanted to pull back from the hussle and bussle of everything and just take his (and her) time. Together. But discreetly. Always so very discreet.

The Palace Gardens were a great place to start. The courtyard was mind blowingly big, enormously outstretched. It held so many types of flowers, and all shrubberies were tweaked to perfection. It was simply perfect and with the maze and all, nothing short of a fairy tale. The crown of it all however was the Gloriette, a pavillion type of building with grand windows. It had been designed to glorify Habsburg power and the “Just War” (a war that would be carried out of "necessity" and lead to peace). 

These days the Gloriette houses a café and an observation deck which provides panoramic views of the city but unfortunately it was already closed by the time Tom and Charlotte passed through.

Charlotte sighed at the sight of so much splendour and, without realising, held on tighter to Tom’s arm. He chuckled warmly and shared his admiration with Charlotte before urging her to tell him more about her current plans… There were so many questions, so many things he wanted to learn about her. 

He led her to a cosy little Italian place near the river. Highly recommended by Ben and Sophie, who described it as a nice and quite yet authentic restaurant where they would surely be able to enjoy a ridiculously good pasta in all privacy. Tom didn’t need to hear about this place twice and made reservations - himself - as soon as possible.

Ben and Sophie were clearly very reliable advisors. That became quite clear when Tom sat down on the patio of said restaurant. With Charlotte across the table, toasting with a glass of red wine, the evening was already all he had hoped it to be. They wined and dined, they talked so easily, with a fair amount of flirt that was steady on growing stronger through the course of their meal. His hand searched out hers at the table and squeezed it gently while he quietly proposed they would take their dessert elsewhere. Charlotte lifted a brow under a playful chuckle and flirtily added he’d made her quite curious now… about that dessert...

3. Never in a million years would Charlotte have guessed there would be some last minute running involved after that incredibly delicious meal. She’d spontaneously declared Tom insane, loudly questioning what he was up to as she rushed after him towards to some sort of house by the river.  

But Tom would not be Tom if he hadn’t prepared the evening. He was enamoured with her and he felt happier than he had felt in a long time. But he hadn’t walked the parcours to all of this like he usually would and he nervously and desperately wanted to make up for that. He want a night of perfection, a night of romance, an evening out in which we could prove to her that he - personally - made an effort. Just for her. And that he had gladly ruled out any other intrusions beyond themselves. That part was a tricky bit though. But he happily went for it. For her.  

And that’s why he felt they needed to catch the very last riverboat that night. The absolute last one that was to depart that evening in fact; because the summer sun was about to set. With this last boat ride

Charlotte had giggled and merely shook her head as they boarded. Yet she couldn’t resist but to quietly and playfully reprimand Tom with, “I’m here. With you. That is all that matters. To me, that is.”

He’d nodded in understanding, but under a bashful smile, gladly guided her to the back of the pleasure boat; out on the terrace on those wooden benches. Tom mindfully draped one of the fleece blankets over Charlotte’s legs as dusk had now started to set in. Charlotte exhaled blissfully at his thoughtful gesture. And when Tom put his arm around her shoulders, she allowed herself to relax and lean closer to him. There were absolutely no paparazzi here. Nor other spying eyes. Everybody’s attention was clearly turning on the scenery outside of the boat, not inside. 

“I know darling,” he finally replied to her, “and I apologise for rushing you, but… I want, or I need, tonight to be perfect. I just want this to be ‘us’. Nobody else.”

“Us... ,” Charlotte’s lips curved into a smile, “I like the sound of that.”

She chuckled some more as she flicked her fingers against the baseball cap he’s put on during their mad dash for the boat. It was an nice attempt for anonymity, but she hated the thing. Tom looked back at her sternly, but his eyes twinkled with mischief. 

“Steady now, love…” 

Charlotte tittered before setting her sights back onto the beautiful scenery as the boat glided across the Danube river. It was quite here, serene even. No crowds, no traffic, only the sound of water lapping the hull of the boat. She admired the Austrian architecture, but her breath got caught when she could very clearly now see the sun setting against the horizon. And Vienna’s city lights came to life. 

A small shiver ran across her back and she felt his arm pull her in closer. Charlotte slid out her seat a bit and allowed herself to shamelessly lean against his strong chest. His familiar cologne immediately soothed her and she sighed while admitting to him the scenery was simply beautiful. 

Tom smiled to himself and looked down at her lovingly before he ever-so-sweetly placed a longing kiss on her lips which she most definitely did not reject. Charlotte gladly molded herself to his position and gratefully returned the kiss she did expect to be receiving in public.

Two days ago, they had spent their afternoon in London talking in earnest over lunch, and then lounging in his living room afterwards. They had taken their time with discovering the other, with kissing and feeling, with lounging and talking. But they hadn’t slept together again since Edinburgh, and right now this somehow - and very acutely - only added to the longing. 

A small whimper escaped from her Charlotte’s mouth and Tom pulled back with a slight curse under his breath when he realised the boat tour wouldn’t be over for another 20 minutes…

While their kiss softly but surely deepened, his hand snuck lower and under the blanket where it caressed one of her legs and the upwards before softly bit surely clasping her inner thigh. Charlotte squirmed in her seat uneasily, locking her eyes with him surprised. 

“I thought you were all about discreet,” she mumbled with an eyebrow raised in delight. 

“Oh but I am darling,” he whispered into her ear while he adoringly massaged her thigh. 

“B-b-beg to differ…” she stuttered, a slight blush rising to her cheeks..

His crystal blue eyes met her chocolate brown ones. 

“So happy. Here. With you,” 

4. Charlotte wasn’t entirely sure how they had managed to make it safely from the boat back to the hotel room and franky at that time she couldn’t care less about it. Because Tom’s lips were leaving a deliciously enthralling trail of kisses down her neck. Leaving a path of gentle nips from the column of her neck down to her clavicle, Charlotte dropped her head back in surrender and blissfully gasped his namen.”

Tom groaned appreciatively as he sweetly pressed his lips onto her almost bare shoulder. Charlotte’s hands ran over his shoulders and then over his neck and up into his hair. She curled her fingers and softly tugged at his curls in an implicit attempt for him to place his lips onto hers. Words were a bit of a struggle for her now that arousal had started to cloud her mind.

Their mouths very quickly came crashing back together again. The word frantic came to mind. When they pulled back their gasps for air were slightly mingled with idiotic chuckles. 

“It’s been too long,” Tom whispered, resting his forehead against hers.

“Mmm, I agree,” Charlotte breathed. 

“Give me a second, will you,” he chuckled, “else I fear I won’t last long…” 

She loved how he gently stroked her long hair while seemingly grounding himself for a moment. His eyes were closed and she distinctly heard him taking a deep breath in and out. And while she contemplated on following his example but failed to do so as her heart was still savagely beating within her chest. She did manage to close her eyes while he slid his hands over her body, carefully tracing her curves. But slowly this time. He wanted to take his time. That was obvious. 

She felt his hands slid down over her waist, over the swell of her hips and down her thighs. While his mouth slowly claimed hers again. His tongue slowly gliding against hers, tasting of wine of the promise of a wonderful night. His fingertips rimmed the seam of her dress and trailed upwards over her thighs while Charlotte’s agile fingers patiently yet deftly unbuttoned his shirt. Her hands slid under the light fabric, firmly splayed out against his toned chest, up to his shoulders where she proceeded to push the piece of clothing off. 

And in return she gladly lifted her hands over her head so he could lift her summery dress up over her head as well. 

He murmurs something she couldn’t hear and probably wasn’t meant to hear. She would ask in normal circumstances ask but then his hands reached out the the curves of her breasts where they stroked and teased and readied the path his lips and tongue were so eager to follow. 

Words not important now.

It was only a matter of seconds before the last pieces of clothing found their way to the floor and Charlotte slowly laid down on the luxurious hotel bed. Desperate for any kind of friction now, she was ever so delighted when Tom skilfully undulated his toned body over hers. A slight moan got caught in her throat when his teeth softly sank into her lower lip and she raked her fingernails playfully over his lower back in retaliation. He shivered in response, muttering she was a “bad girl,” before ravenously continuing his teasings. 

When his fingers trailed down to her apex of her legs, she flinched and her head lulled back. A muffled whimper escaped her lips, much to Tom’s pleasure … And with even more adoration for her then before he bent down lower and decidedly ran his tongue over her little bundle of nerves. 

Charlotte proceeded to gasp, this time not so slightly anymore. Her hands clutched onto the sheets in all her might while Tom teased on, adding pressure with his thumb before steadily spoiling her on. A little peak disclosed to him how beautiful she truly was, all pretences stripped away, blushing feverishly and moaning delightful things in response to him. 

He took pride into bringing her to a climax and enjoyed witnessing her fall to pieces, knowing it was his doing.. Truth be told, it wasn’t a moment too soon for him though. With a speed and ease he anxiously chased after his own release that came much to soon to his liking. He needed to learn to pace himself again, he reprimanded himself jokingly. 

They rolled into each other’s embrace easily, lovingly, catching their breaths in unison. 

“Good heavens,” Tom joked, “you’ve ruined me!”

“How’s that?’’ Charlotte frowned under a laugh. 

“I don’t last that long with you. Christ” 

Charlotte lost herself in a fit of giggles. 

“Seriously,” he continued, “I want a rematch later on.”

“Later on?” she teased, “oh my, do you think you can manage that?”

“Hey!” he shot back, “why did you think I insisted on picking up these?” he winked devilishly to the cake boxes he’d picked up at Café Prückel on their hasty flee from the boat to the hotel. 

But Charlotte happily delved in though. Both skimpily covered with a hotel sheet, they savoured the stupendous cakes with vigour, and stealing a morsel from the other’s cake with their plastic forks. 

“Could get used to this,” Charlotte confessed with a smile.

“Mmmm, yeah,” Tom blissfully agreed, “I admit,” he added while munching on, “this one is the best ever though.”

He fed her another piece of his Sachertorte and jokingly pulled away when she wanted to take a bite. Charlotte cursed him under a loud giggle. 

But it was true. The cake was extremely good. And it was also true that Charlotte could get used to this just as well. Easily so... 

[theheartofpenelope]

Simple Things : Chapter twelve

Excerpt - “I demand an appeal,” he muttered as he turned a corner.  “You what?!” “Well, isn’t that what they do in your job?” Charlotte snapped her head back. Oh really? Trapped in a car. In traffic. No way for an escape. And he wants to plead his case. Fucking perfect. Tag list: @winterisakiller, @devikafernando, @scorpionchild81, @messy-insomniac-bookgirl, @smutsausage, @hiddlesbitch1 @noplacelikehome77 @wolfsmom1 @meh1217 @dina-bln @lilaeye39 @tinchentitri @fairlightswiftly @nonsensicalobsessions @wolfsmom1 @stmeiou @ink-and-starlight @givemecocoaa @profkmoriarty13 @nikkalia @massivelemon @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @argo-shila @emoietmoi @redfoxwritesstuff @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @raining-litter @theoneanna @coppercorn-and-cauldron @turniptitaness @shadyskit @memoriesat30 @antyc67 @just-the-hiddles @sheris532 @marggot4 Author’s Notes/Warnings: tags will follow later on Anyway thank you in advance for feedback - would love to know what you think…Also on AO3 through this link Masterlist available through here Bonus: click here for the pinterest moodboard (always updated)

Chapter twelve Wednessday - A chance encounter in London 

1. See

Charlotte politely followed the HR consultant as he escorted her into the sleek elevator. He was a middle-aged man who oozed self-confidence, he knew very well what he wanted and what he was looking for. He’d been quite rigid and resolute all throughout the meeting. 

She had been a little surprised an HR manager was attending said lengthy meeting, but then again this wàs the Royal London Hospital and this might be a very strict protocol they had to live up to. Breaking it was no doubt sacrilegious in these parts of the country. 

The executive directors of the Royal London Hospital had very clearly outlined their ‘vision’ for the hospital to Charlotte, requesting her take on things and requesting a well-documented legal counsel. Truth-be-told Charlotte had expected she was called in for this kind of professional advice. However she was not expecting that her response would be met the way it was… 

As she politely but determinedly rejected some of their desiderata, some glances were exchanged on the other side of the table, a few nods and gestures went back and forth which Charlotte found utterly distracting. Where was their protocol now, she mused. 

But all became clear when the meeting somehow, very openly, turned into a job-offer towards her. A very generous offer was instantly extended to her; and a temporary assignment to work out a new policy on end-of-life decisions in the Royal London Hospital. The fucking Royal Hospital, her mind has yelled out, the state-of-the-art hospital, globally recognized as a leader in pre-hospital and trauma care. Home to London's Air Ambulance and one of the capital's leading trauma and emergency care centres and hyper-acute stroke centres. And they wanted her… 

Charlotte would be allowed to compile a multidisciplinary corps and an assistant would be appointed to her. The extent of the offer dizzied her, yet thrilled her at the same time. It was a dream come true. Well, more than that really… 

Things were moving fast for her now. At least that’s how it felt for her. She started with only a handful seminars, but was now well-booked for the rest of the summer, with the occasional interview here and there. And now there was this offer on the table she could not quite wrap her mind around yet. 

As she stepped into the elevator the HR manager kindly exchanged some more small talk with her. He seemed like an amiable man. With a smile he tapped the elevator buttons and started their descent down to the lobby. 

No, never in her wildest dreams had Charlotte expected her road to lead her where it had so far. And this at only 36 years of age. This was wild. This went beyond her imagination. And Charlotte half expected to be woken up by the shrill tone of her alarm clock. She discreetly pinched her nails into her arm - just in case - but this was no dream apparently. The shrill alarm clock didn't sound, but the elevator did chyme and a monotone female voice announced the occupants they had reached the fourth floor, then the second floor and so on. 

People trickled in and out the elevator and before she was good and well aware Charlotte had reached the ground floor. She smiled in agreement with the HR consultant as he thanked her for her time, which she countered with a thank you for having me. Ping-pong, as you go...

"And we'll be looking forward to hearing your decision," the HR consultant concluded their conversation, "and maybe I shouldn't say this, but we àre passionately hoping you'll be willing to work with us."

In her head Charlotte positively screamed fucking Royal London!, but in reality she smiled her best diplomatic smile. And while she shook his hand - firmly -, she politely answered she was absolutely honoured and would think the offer through.

Upon exiting the elevator on a pure adrenaline high, Charlotte inattentively bumped against a hurried nearby stranger who jogged out of an opposing elevator. Shaking the momentary lapse of concentration out of her head, she turned to the other party with a slightly surprised frown which swiftly morphed into a recognition, and then an awkward yet lukewarm smile. 

"Charlotte?" 

"Tom?" 

2. See closer 

3 days after Fringe. 3 nights after that night. 3 days and 3 nights without a single word. In either direction. 

Charlotte’s heart thudded loudly and nervously in her chest. She was however oblivious whether this nervous spell was a good or a bad thing. Should she crawl under a rock and make herself scarce after exchanging the necessary small talk or should she act unaffected, like he was? Or should she take a breath, straighten her shoulders and ask for an answer in the hopes it could heal that awful gnawing feeling the aftermath of Edinburgh had left her with... 

As she came round to a mute double (or was it triple?) take, she noted Tom seemed just as much out of his comfort zone as she was. And in a weird way it thrilled her. Karma. Suits him well. She could see him running his tongue over his lips before gently biting them shut. His hands fidgeted with the paperwork he held in his hand while he repeatedly re-adjusting his glasses. 

Charlotte’s heartbeat however dropped some when she detected the variety of papers Tom had now safely tucked under his arm. So much papers after a doctor’s appointment, and that did not look good. At all. He didn’t look hurt. Was he sick? He seemed nervous, sweaty. He was silent, not at all like the Tom she’d come to know….

Her gaze got caught on the documents, but this point she couldn’t care less about that. 

“Are - Are you alright?” Charlotte immediately questioned; she was worried. No point in denying this. 

Her wall of defence had slipped and Tom could hear the concern in her voice inkling through. A small little frown came across her features. Only instantly, but he noticed nonetheless. And he thankfully concluded that perhaps she wasn’t yet hating him with the fire of a thousand suns…

"Yeah, no, I erm,” he stuttered, “I just had the obligatory medical check-up for a next project. But you?"

He was astounded though, for a woman who was most definitely not an actress she slid back into her defensive pose oh-so easily. A tall blank wall arose, that gave way to nothing or nobody. He swore he had caught a glimmer of relief into her eyes before though, but all sympathy had fled from her now.  

“Good-good,” she replied with formal nod, “just - work.” 

Tom took notice of how curt she suddenly acted. How could he not. But to Charlotte it was simply her only means as she desperately did not want to feel a single thing. Not those stupid-ass fireflies, not the inexplicable angry hurt, not the stomach drop. None of it. She wanted nothing more than to be cool and step over all of this matter-of-factly. Her gut swirled with bottled up questions and insecurities, but she would have none of that. Water under the bridge. 

Get over it Daniëls. He sure has.

3. Believe 

Charlotte slid into the leather seats of his fancy car. A fresh cool bottle of water clasped in her hands. He’d paid for it despite her vehement veto. He wouldn’t listen though. And now she was here, in his car, because he offered to drive her to the St. Pancras Station. She’d refused, replying she was taking the underground so he really shouldn’t bother. It was noon. Traffic would be a mess, etc. However she ended up giving in to this request - albeit reluctantly - because he was right on one thing; they needed to talk. Privately if possible and the hospital lobby was just no place to do just that. 

But in spite of that, they did not exchange one word once inside the car. Tom pulled out of the underground parking with a silent ease. And emerging in the London streets and into the full sunlight, he reached out for his trusted sunglasses. Meanwhile the familiar scent of leather and some citrussy car perfume tempted Charlotte’s mind into a trip down memory lane, back to another night several weeks back in time. A night with equally nervous heart flutters, but for entirely different reasons. 

He queued down the main road, while desperately trying to sort his thoughts before settling on a  

“You’ve never answered me…” 

Charlotte remained at a loss for words for a couple of seconds before huffing a vexed “honestly?!” and shaking her head in disbelief. 

He could hear her as she exhaled loudly, seemingly trying to get her mind pulled back together again,

“With quite a delay I got your texts and,” a pause, “your voicemail.”

His eyes urged her on.

"You said - if memory serves me well, and it usually does - that you wished you'd said ‘goodbye’.” Charlotte paused, “forgive me but I thought that was how this worked for you."

"How what worked?"

"You didn't show up!!" She didn’t mean for her voice to go up in pitch and she furiously furrowed her brows to compensate for it, "I mean, it's all right, I was ….. naive I guess? Somewhere I knew I wouldn't see you again that night, but yet hoped for it. Against better judgement." 

"Wha, wh- why would you expect I wouldn't show up?"

Charlotte lifted her chin and rested her head against the headrest while releasing a cold and hollow laugh, which he didn’t particularly cared for, "To-om!"

But he remained silent, a bit dumbfounded and clueless for what to say next. A car behind them honked, frustrated Tom had failed to acknowledge the light turning green and was still at a halt. 

"You don't want to let anybody down, I understand," Charlotte muttered, "no need to..."

"Only I did," he interrupted, "I let you down, I let myself down. I’m just…”

“Just stop it,” Charlotte interjected as she shook her head in seeming defeat and looked at him wearily. 

“You know, I hate it how you are making all of this around you?”

“I’m sorry,” he blinked twice, “come again?”

"Like it’s all your hurt feelings in the scale here. It drives me mad….” she huffed, “You know, I think or at least I hope we've established in the past that I'm not really the type of girl that just goes crawling into bed with someone on a whim?” 

Charlotte gestured aggravatedly, “so excuse me if I'm a bit rough around the edges here, but I clearly heard you say ‘goodbye’ to me. So, what else would there be left for me to say? It didn't really feel like a message that allowed any type of answer…"

“So just,” she sighed, “let’s just call this for what this is or was. And move on?”

A pang went straight through his heart. He saw her turning away and looking through the window from the passenger seat at the building that passed her by. Good. He desperately needed a minute to himself to let her words sink in. He couldn’t quite grasp the fact that she would see him as this promiscuous playboy who just went sleeping around with whomever struck his fancy...  

“I demand an appeal,” he muttered as he turned a corner.  

“You what?!”

“Well, isn’t that what they do in your job?”

Charlotte snapped her head back. Oh really? 

Trapped in a car. In traffic. No way for an escape. And he wants to plead his case. Fucking perfect.

“You know,” he argued more determined now, “you keep saying, ‘let’s call it what it is’. And then you do just that. And proceed to you turn your back on me. And it’s settled?” he questioned.

“But what about me? Do I at least get the chance to call it what it was for me?” he pressed on, “I do feel like you owe it to me to let me explain..."

"Owe it to you?" she frowned with a huff, hovering clearly unsettled.  

"Yes, Charlotte,” he replied. Curt. To the point. 

“And if you truly feel the way you say you do - I promise, I will not push this matter further. However I will not let you silence me before I have spoken my part.”

"I wanted to see you that night. But the crowd, .... and then some fans walked up and then there was this critic," he sighed in utter frustration and banged the steering wheel in sheer annoyance, "I am an idiot! I know I am. And I should have been more firm. I went about it all wrong. And for that I will be forever angry with myself." 

“But,” he sighed, “I did want to see you and ... verify that the other night was not just a dream. I longed to see you. To hear you. To hold you and to kiss you goodnight. Not goodbye.” he shook his head in disbelief. 

“And if I said that wrong on your voicemail then I apologize for it. All of it. I was tired. Impatient.” 

Heartbroken 

He held her gaze, “I am not thàt type of man you seem to want to take me for, I am not the type to sleep around. You must believe me on this one. I might not have the best track-record with you so far; I admit,” he added a bitter laugh, “but this is true. I promise you that."

She kept silent. This seemed like a good sign… 

"But Charlotte, I called you and went straight to voicemail. To me, that was quite a clear message as well... No response is still a response, Charlotte,” he concluded. 

"Have you spoken your peace, Tom?"

He replied to her with a silent surprised nod. 

“Apparently,” she mumbled, “when you attach a cell-phone to a power bank it shuts off everything so it loads faster…”

“Of course,” he wrinkled his nose as he shrug his shoulders as if to convey her he did not see the point of this lesson, “that’s the way they work.”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow ironically, “well congrats to you but I didn’t know that.”

“What on earth?” 

“In Edinburgh, a colleague of mine lent one to me… my battery was running low and … I didn’t want to miss any….” She furrowed her brows and looked down at the drink in between her hands. “I didn’t have a watch. My cell is … my clock, my calendar. It erm - it automatically put me in flight mode. I didn’t realize. And I’m sorry about that.”

He looked back at her with sympathy and nodded, “ok.”

She nodded with a kindhearted smile, “so, appeal granted. It’s good we talked. But, you don’t want this."

"Ouch," he chuckled and clutched his heart. "Well that stung. For a minute there I thought he came to an understanding here?"

"Don't miss my point," Charlotte slanted her head and looked at him with sympathy.

"And don't you miss mine,” he interrupted her, “because even though you believe you speak the truth, you are wrong."

"Am I?" 

"So very wrong! Because, as it turns out, I do wànt this,” he gestured between them, “or at least a fair chance at this.”

But Charlotte only rolled her eyes and turned her gaze outwards again. 

“My god! I swear there are pitbulls that are less tenacious than you!”

Charlotte grunted and looked down at the bottle in between her hands, before a stupid grin fell from her lips. 

“I swear,” he shook his head, “so help me god.” 

“And now she’s laughing… You’re putting me through hell here darling...”

“I’ve missed not talking to you,” he finally dared to confess, “And I so desperately wanted to reach out to you, only I … don’t know where you live, I didn’t know where you’d be? So,” he lingered, “I sent flowers to your firm.” 

“Well congratulations to Luke,” Charlotte rolled her eyes.

“I tend to pick and send my own flowers, darling. I’m very precise about those things.”

She kept silent. Good. 

Tom stared at the steering wheel before him,“Gladiolus, for strength of character, honor and conviction. And they needed to be white; the color of perfection, safety, purity and faith. Writing the accompanying card was an outright hell though because the odds were your colleagues might get it before you did.”

“That was you?” Charlotte reminisced a WhatsApp from her office depicting a gorgeous bouquet and demanding what she had said or done to deserve the honour of such a wonderful bouquet. They couldn’t make out the card though. It only mentioned one word, but the meaning of it was lost on everyone.

Until now.

“Maktub,” Charlotte whispered, to which he nodded. 

‘Maktub.’ ‘It is written’. 

A deep belief about destiny Paulo Coelho writes about in ‘the Alchemist’ where he captured it in just one word. Maktub. Everything is destined and written. How when and where has already been planned and we shall not get anxious about it. Just little patience and it will just come with time provided and the efforts needed.

She glanced up in his eyes that convey nothing but a clear bluegreen sincerity. She wanted to ask him to say that again, for good understanding. But he gladly repeated it on his own accord. 

And there went her heart. In one thousand pieces, scattered all over the ground.

4. Achieve 

He officially declared traffic was an absolute mess. It was barely noon and within 20 minutes he had barely made any significant progress towards Saint Pancras Station. Worriedly he inquired with Charlotte when her train was departing and when she quietly confessed “16:03” he dropped his chin to his chest and bit his lip trying to suppress a laugh. 

“Can I propose lunch now?” he chuckled, to which she pleasantly nodded. That would be alright.

They agreed they would start over at lunch, wipe the slate clean. Talk. And reset.

Tom made a swift U-turn, sneaking into smaller streets. Homeward. He wanted to let out Bobby first, drop of his paperwork, leave his car. Charlotte wordlessly followed his path. 

The chocolate brown Cocker Spaniël happily greeted his master as Tom set foot into his house. Charlotte followed quietly, awkwardly. Bobby sniffed her legs both suspiciously and curiously. When she crouched down and offered him the palms of her hands, he studied and snuffed them gratefully, ultimately giving them a little lick before ignoring her completely and favouring Tom over her. 

Tom chuckled, “well, you’re accepted it seems.”

He clicked his tongue, guiding Bobby out into his backyard while Charlotte nervously waited around the living room. She wanted to go explore his bookshelf across the room. As she progressed down the room she admired the stupendously comfy-looking lounge chair and fought the urge to try it out herself. As she ran her fingertips over the fragments of paper that lay scattered around a reading table, her eyes fell upon an article with her name on it, post-its with scribblings on it. An email address, a phone number, some doodling, scratched out words. City names. As she picked up the interview curiously, a second one featuring her appeared underneath. Charlotte chuckled, had he really been trying to track her down?

A soft chuckle brought her back to reality. Tom stood against the door frame, smiling bashfully.

“Caught me red handed.”

But Charlotte could only look at him, rendered speechless. 

“Wasn’t lying,” he reminded her, “wanted you. Want you. If you’ll have me.”

It turned out to be the most difficult question anybody had ever asked her.

Do I want this - Do I want to invest in this, whatever it is, potentially discovering it would be only a waste of her time. 

Charlotte stood by her belief that notwithstanding their shared morals or values, their common interest or visions, they did remain so different on countless other things. Things that mattered just as much. And you did need some common ground to form a solid basis on which you can build your relationship. Without a solid base everything goes to waste. Hell, even with a solid base things could very well still go to waste. Her marriage was a perfect example of the latter.

On the other hand though... this was him. The man that slowly but surely had crawled under her skin. Attentive, interested, good hearted. And when she’d crumbled down in Germany he was there, while he didn’t really need to be there. Yet there he was, offering support when she had needed it most. He unknowingly found the smallest of cracks in the seemingly airtight seal around her heart and nestled himself inside. Gentleman-like, well dressed and with a good book. Ever patient. Trustworthy. Present. Shit.

Her stomach was in knots when she came to realise, that day, what her heart had known deep down a few days earlier; she could not walk away. Not from this man. But the future scared her nonetheless.

"But - we're as different as chalk and cheese,"

"Are we?"

She smiled, "we live out of our respective suitcases."

"For now," he corrected her.

"Yes, for now. But when I touch down after all this...."

"You'll still only be 2 hours away,"

"But..."

"I dare you," he grinned, feeling he was winning this battle.

"Brexit," Charlotte tried.

"Honestly, Brexit? Of all excuses you come up with, Brexit?"

"Well,..." 

"I will gladly add some more pages to my passport. For you," he paused. “Come on darling, don’t hold back now,” he teased, “any objection you have, give it to me. I will gladly deny or overcome every single one.”

“To-om,” she slanted her head. He liked this ‘To-om’ better, when her voice was full of loving emotion again. 

“Either you go at it with passion, or not at all,” he added.

“Permission to engage the enemy sir?” he chuckled. 

Charlotte rewarded him with a lopsided smile. Momentarily banning all scary thoughts out of her head she gladly but carefully opted to open her heart and take the leap of faith. As petrifying as it felt. Her smile was all the persuasion Tom needed to walk the short distance between them. He stroked her dark brown tresses, admiring her soft feminine features and seeing if he’d remembered them correctly. 

She closed her eyes when he slid his hand into her hair and slowly he leant in for a soft kiss. And another one. And another. Sweet and innocent, little testaments of adoration and longing. She ran a hand up from the nape of his neck and through his curls. She’d missed this, that much was true already. And she allowed herself to revell in this sudden rush of enamourment. 

She felt his lips curve into a smile in between pecks. 

“‘m getting better at this,” he whispered

“Hmm?”

“Third time's a charm. No interruptions here, only Bobby.”

“Nu-uh,” Charlotte breathed, “you’re still buying me lunch Hiddleston.”

Later that afternoon Charlotte lovingly petted Bobby's head before making her leave. Tom had signed up for ComiCon in Vienna, which coincided with her seminar. Only two more days and they would be together again. After sharing a loving last kiss, Charlotte stepped outside into an unsure yet thrilling future.

Tom had asked her to call him when she'd arrived home, claiming he'd only worry until he'd heard from her. He was so easy to love. 

Two more days…. 

[theheartofpenelope]

Simple Things : Chapter nine

Excerpt - As she hurried down the hallway her eyes fell onto the sight she’d somewhat feared... A bespectacled man was reading a paperback at the door of her hotel room. There he was; casually leaning against the door case. The man who had comforted her to sleep, the same man who had urged her to Ystad to ease her mind. Was it silly of her to feel tingly all over as she set eyes on him? Tag list: @winterisakiller, @devikafernando, @scorpionchild81, @messy-insomniac-bookgirl, @smutsausage, @hiddlesbitch1 @noplacelikehome77 @wolfsmom1 @meh1217 @dina-bln @lilaeye39 @tinchentitri @fairlightswiftly @nonsensicalobsessions @wolfsmom1 @stmeiou @ink-and-starlight @givemecocoaa @profkmoriarty13 @nikkalia @massivelemon @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @argo-shila @emoietmoi @redfoxwritesstuff @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @raining-litter Author’s Notes/Warnings: tags will follow later on Anyway thank you in advance for feedback - would love to know what you think…Also on AO3 through this link Masterlist available through here Bonus: click here for the pinterest moodboard (always updated)

Chapter Nine Edinburgh, Scotland– day one

1.  July turned to August. And just like every other year Edinburgh was transformed to accommodate the Fringe Festival. Scotland’s capital was turned upside down as a wide range of performers of all arts and nationalities touched base in the city. Countless stages were being set up all over the city, ready to present spectacles of all kinds and for every taste.

This year Tom would be partaking as well, albeit for one night only. It was a childhood dream come true. He had decided to turn his stay into some sort of a city break, allowing himself some extra days on site because, well, Fringe. With relatives nearby he’d been wanting to visit and a list of performances to explore he granted himself the gift of time.   “A mini-break, Charlotte would be so proud,” he’d laughed to himself.

But first and foremost, true to his words, Tom had made his arrangements to meet up with Charlotte. It had been settled that he would pick her up at her hotel after she concluded her seminar for the day. He wanted to show her the city that held plenty of his childhood memories, he wanted to introduce her to the wonderful world of Fringe - certain in every way that this would be a festival to her taste. He wanted to take her to the Theatre and see her revell in the experience as she did in London. He wanted to talk to her, spend time with her without having to keep an eye on the clock. He wanted every second, as long as it was with her.

She had been on his mind ever since he’d ran into her at the airport that day. On the weirdest moments and in the strangest situations. However when Tom turned down his cousin’s invitation for an event occuring on the night he was to meet Charlotte, he was quick to inform said cousin he was just simply meeting up with someone; a friend. It was most definitely not a date, merely a friendly get-together. The sentence had rolled of his tongue as it had done many, many, times before, in other situations, with other people. This time however the words left him somewhat hollow. Strange.

In the elevator Charlotte glanced at her watch for the umpteenth time, fully realising she was - in fact - still running late. As the steel sliding doors finally opened to her floor, she rushed down the hallway on her white heels, her off white dress flowing casually along, a binder closely held to her chest while her other hand balanced her purse.

As she hurried down the hallway her eyes fell onto the sight she’d somewhat feared... A bespectacled man was reading a paperback at the door of her hotel room. There he was; casually leaning against the door case. The man who had comforted her to sleep, the same man who had urged her to Ystad to ease her mind. Was it silly of her to feel tingly all over as she set eyes on him?

If anything the setback in the seminar’s planning had been a blessing in disguise to Charlotte as it had left her with no time to stress about meeting up with Tom. The afternoon transitioned into early evening without granting her even the slightest second in which she would be able to worry about anything at all. Besides running late of course.

“I’m sò sorry I made you wait,” she apologised. Tom only greeted her with a lopsided smile, urging her not to worry about any of it. They had the rest of the evening, he reasoned before greeting her with a casual peck on the cheek. Her loose hair smelled of citrus and a hint of white musk.

“Do I have time to freshen up just a little bit? Slip into something more appropriate?”

Charlotte rambled on, unaware how he cautiously admired her attire while cautiously reminding himself that this was not a date.

Charlotte inserted her key card and headed into her room, wordlessly inviting him inside. And while she rummaged around in the bathroom, Tom curiously laid eyes on the books that lay scattered on her nightstand. He started flipping pages before coming across a thin hardcover book titled ‘the Amsterdam Canals’.

“See anything you like?” her gentle inquiry startled him and Charlotte quietly laughed at her realisation of it. Tom chuckled slightly and readjusted his glasses before turning his attention from the books back to her as she made her way towards him.  

“That one is for you actually,” she picked up the slim book, presenting it to him.

“I spotted it on a flea market; it’s from an Ecuadorian photographer. Thought you might like it better than the crappy shots I sent you.”

Her lips curved into a kindhearted smile as she admiringly pointed out some of her favourite images to him. However his eyes were fixated on her rather than the book.

“Are you serious?” he gave her an incredulous look, “you shouldn’t have....”

“Hmmm, I have this thing,” she shrugged, “with books. I don’t know. An accidental discovery, I couldn’t just leave it there… ”

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” he nodded while a genuine feeling of happiness snuck up on him, “I appreciate this. Thank you.”

“Well, it’s no Paulo Coelho…” Charlotte felt a blush coming up and swiftly steered away from the subject. Buying that book had seemed an attentive gesture to her at the time, but in retrospect, maybe it had been a strange and foolish thing to do?

“So, what do you think,” she switched her hip in good fun as she fake-modeled a casual short-sleeved sweater dress, “am I good to go now?”

“You’re perfect,” the words rolled of his tongue. And it wasn’t a lie.

Remember Tom, not a date.

2. His long legs climbed the Scottish hillside at a very steady pace; Charlotte suspected this was a regular visit to him. Had to be. She gave herself thumbs up for wearing a pair of sneakers while she marched up the (sometimes not so gentle) slope. She may have lost the benefit of added height, but was ever more grateful for gaining the ability to ease through the brisk climb.

Tom was clearly in his element and this amused her greatly. He explained how Edinburgh was built on seven hills and Charlotte was thankful they would only be climbing up just one that evening. It was clear she had been sitting too much these days. All these seminars were a professional blessing, but a physical curse. This, combined with the heat wave, has created this bizarre yearning in her mind to go swimming, not climbing hills. But she had no say in this tonight. She’d agreed to letting him surprise her with what he reckoned a ‘sightseeing-de-luxe’. He made her promise to not take any notice of the view while climbing up, but to allow herself to get surprised at the summit. And who has she to deny him of this - obviously great - pleasure?

“So this one, is called Arthur’s Seat and they say it’s a sleeping dragon,” Tom elaborated. “An old Celtic story says that a dragon used to fly around the sky, terrorising the region and eating all the livestock. Eventually it ate sò much, that one day it lay down, went to sleep, and never woke up again.”

It wasn’t hard to imagine his inner 10 year old that still awed over the legend.

Charlotte smiled to herself, taking in all the information while playfully addressing him as ‘Tourguide Tom’ for the rest of the hike. It had only spurred him on though; under a thick Scottish accent he directed her attention to St. Anthony’s Chapel, the Royal Mile, etc.

“Ye ken, traditionally oan main day, yoong kimmers woods climb th' hillside an' wash their coopon in th' dew,” he continued with a smirk, “legend has is 'at thes woods keep them lookin' yoothful an' bonnie.” (*)

(*) “You know, traditionally on May Day, young women would climb the hillside and wash their face in the dew. Legend has is that this would keep them looking youthful and beautiful.”

It might as well have been Chinese to Charlotte. While she did have English under her belt, the Scottish dialect was just a bit too far out her reach. Except for maybe some easy basics…  

“Ur ye feckin' kiddin' me?!”

If anything, Tom did not see this one coming. His hand flew to his chest, he threw his head back and laughed. Loudly and without reservation.

“Com’n then love,” Tom tittered on, while guiding Charlotte up the hill for those last few feet. Charlotte chuckled along. He seemed so happy, carefree, a bit flirty, probably without trying to be. He was in good spirits and it was quite catchy...

Against all of her expectations, the summit was quite touristy. A lot of vacationers promenaded around, their cameras in hand while they were alternatively in awe of the view and anxious to take that perfect vacation picture so they could relive the moment at home.

But when she herself was standing near the edge of that particular hillside, Charlotte finally understood; the view was nothing short of spectacular. She fell silent at the sight of Edinburgh at her feet, the old city centre was buzzing with activity, with mood lighting everywhere. The people down below were crawling all over the streets like ants, the cars and bicycles seemed almost toy-like.

She heard Tom approaching behind her. It sounded like a gently sigh escaped his lips, mere moments before she heard him quietly murmuring into her ear, “now if I remember this well, you are a sea girl before anything else…,”

In their messages post-Hamburg he had learned about Charlotte’s affinity with water. With the sound of crashing waves, the effect of the surf that could always, always calm her down and relax. Something about childhood memories and Oyster Festival Parades (but she hated oysters. It cracked him up.). Also something with boats, the sounds of the marina. He never told her, but that was exactly why he’d urged her to Ystad. Out of the city. Closer to nature. In a cottage close to the beach; the promise of a deserted shore where you could sit for hours on end just enjoying the silence...   

He gently placed his hands over her upper arms and guided her a bit to the right, changing her position so her eyes could catch the entire panoramic view he had in mind.

“You need the full perspective,” he whispered.

WIth a gasp Charlotte noted the ocean coming within view; the dull cry of seagulls in the distance, little boats making their way back to the safe harbour.

“Oh my…”

“Yah,” a proud smile and he nodded. “I couldn’t bare the thought of you visiting Edinburgh and not coming up here.”

“Something tells me you couldn’t bare the thought of not coming up here yourself.”

Tom looked at her out of the corner of his eye and chuckled as he admitted to her speculation with an ambiguous nod.  

“There is pleasure in the pathless woods, there is rapture in the lonely shore, there is society where none intrudes, by the deep sea and music in its roar; I love not Man the less, but Nature more.”

Charlotte, however, could only frown at Lord Byron’s beautiful poetry, and declared that she knew melancholy when she saw it. A lazy smile curved among Tom’s lips as he cast his eyes down, “and how are you?”

“Don’t digress Tourguide Tom,”

“Says the evasive lawyer,” he quickly retorted.

“Not evasive,” she defended; a caring sympathy lingering through her voice, “I was just first.”

“Are we five?” he cocked his eyebrow in good fun, which promptly urge a giggle from Charlotte.

She looked upon him gleefully and he wondered what it was that made her feel so… familiar and honest and ‘good’?

“What is wìth you today?” Charlotte chortled, “someone ought to teach you manners again. Am I going to speak with your mysterious blonde over this?”

Tom shook his head with a laugh as he quickly retorted the mystery blonde was simply not for him. It had been a casual answer but it didn’t make Charlotte feel any less mortified for mentioning it. Tom sweetly shrugged Charlotte’s apology off. Because there was nothing here to be sorry about. Not one thing at all…

“But,” he raised his index finger proudly, “you will be happy to know that I’m taking a mini-break. Right now.”

“You’re not!” she exclaimed excitedly, “finally! Is that why you’re so…”

“So? So what?” he curved his brow comically, “oh really, finish that sentence for me now.”

Charlotte cackled and admitted she’d rather not. “Oh my, but you’re really doing it. Slowing down. Zoning out. La dolce far niente…” she teased while rubbing her arms. Strands of her hair circled around, dancing freely on the fickle wind.

“Are you cold darling?” he ran his hand over her back, but Charlotte only shook her head, “nah, only surprised how much cooler it is up here. Brisk breeze here,”

“I should’ve told you, it’s always quite windy up here…” he pondered for a little while, “What do you think - Fish and chips?”

Charlotte threw her head back, in an attempt to shake her long tresses out of her face and dramatically bellowed, “god yes!” After days and days of fancy food and finger sandwiches, fish and chips was just perfect. The ideal amount of grease and calories and she was up for it.

He winked and slanted his head to announce their descent.

“There,” he inched nearer and ran his hand from the top of her head of her to her sides, brushing her hair down as he did, “you look like a rockstar.”

There he was, it was as if the clouds had somehow lifted and she for the first time saw him for who he really was. All pretences stripped away. Nothing but his friendly charm, his familiar support, she felt as if she was coming home to an old friend. She could feel his body radiate as they stood close and noted how a soft frown came over him, his eyes scanning her expression.

Her heart skipped a beat. Actually more than one.

Oh, for Pete’s sake! Pull yourself together Charlotte!

She was acutely aware of their proximity and the crazy things it started doing to her, she was even more aware of individuals that kept on roaming around, closer and closer still.

“I erm,” she croaked, “I think you have been spotted,” she raised an eyebrow.

“You think?” a frown of disbelief came over him. This was Scotland, he was good in Scotland. There were no paparazzi here. Or were there?

“I erm, I spy some hesitation, I think they’re going to come up closer to make sure,” her eyes concernedly flashed back at him. Beautiful dark orbs mirroring nothing but honesty and concern. Tom nodded.

3. And, in fact, the small group did just what Charlotte had carefully predicted. As usual, Tom was polite and charming. He offered the vacationists a kind word but rapidly apologized himself to the group when he’d noticed Charlotte had started the descent on her own. Though he found it really defined her and her headstrong, independent, I’ll-be-just-fine-attitude, in his heart this was just not right.

Unbeknownst to him, Charlotte’s heart had been beating rapidly in her chest. And the overwhelming need to shake the nonsense out of her head demanding her to do something about it. And soon. So she started walking downhill, rubbing her arms along the way and taking deep breaths while repeating her new mantra in her head.

Oh dear, oh my, do not make a fool out of yourself Charlotte!

She was thankful though, when Tom caught up with her again and escorted her further down the hillside where he proceeded to gladly introduce her to one of his favourite fish and chips shops. It took her mind of her recent embarrassment and, truth be told much more than this, it stilled the appetite she’d been nurturing during the hike.

To Tom it was clear the woman had no shame in enjoying her food. At all. He liked that. And promptly ordered them a couple of Brewdog’s brown beer, because ‘if you’re doing this, you have to do this right.’

Charlotte had her eyes lowered and focused on skewering chips onto her fork when she casually slipped that she was grateful for him taking her around town and curiously questioned him about Fringe. He gladly and enthusiastically informed her.

When they finally set foot into the centre of Edinburgh, ready to immerse themselves into the experience of the Fringe Festival, the amount of visitors in the streets dizzied her. Charlotte had jokingly mumbled she’d go wherever he would lead, Tourguide Tom, just as long he wouldn’t lose her in the crowd.

And so - after only a few minutes mingling in the streets, he’d wordlessly grabbed a hold of her hand. Without looking. She was sure his only agenda was to guide her safely through the mass in the streets. His hand was large and warm and held onto hers with a caring confidence. Charlotte was surprised at the gesture, but gladly succumbed to it. How could a gesture so small, result to an effect this grand. Oh god, this would not end well.

Don’t let go.

4. Tom safely led Charlotte through the crowds on the streets, towards venues she would not be able to find on her own given the chance. Charlotte looked around in amazement at the liveliness of the city and its visitors, willingly following Tom wherever he guided her.

He explained there were a few acts he thought she might enjoy and led the way and Charlotte followed curiously. The venue was - she guessed - an old concert building. Obviously no longer in use. Shame though. It was dark and crowded. The audience was quite diverse which left her utterly clueless on what she was to expect. The viewers were elated though and anxious. An intriguing start…

He ushered her further down the parterre and towards the front of the stage, where she would closer to the music and away from the blinking neons that blinded her and left her under his control. Not that he mind doing just that.

He turned to the right as they got closer to the podium and asked her if she would be alright standing there. She noted it would leave them with a close view of the performers, but they also escaped the harsh lighting thanks to the overlooking balcony, which she did not mind at all.

Relatively soon the spotlights died down and the hall was enclosed into shades of blue. Spotlights brought the audience attention up to the ceiling. Tom however could not help but sneak a peek at her, curious towards her experience, just to see if he had made the right choice with this. Would she be enjoying herself?

He could see her look up above the stage with big curious eyes, and how her lips slowly curved themselves into a wondrous smile as a pair of aerial ballet dancers came tumbling down.

Her smile was only getting wider and wider by the second as she watched the performers play and as the amazement of their craft settled in. She was rapt, there was no denying that.

That smile was all he longed to see. An emotion came across his heart. Not the sense of pride he was expecting, this was different.

Tom brought his gaze back onto the scene himself, until he felt her eyes on him mere seconds later and wordlessly drawing him in. They sparkled and it was all the answer he’d ever needed. They exchanged the broad smile she thanked him with.  

Her eyes conveyed beauty, wondrous amazement, appreciation and pure delight. It warmed his heart because he felt just the same, just looking at her.

The dancers swept the audience away, moving them from cautious emotion to elation and from grief to hope with such a flexible ease.

When the male dancer came tumbling down, some of the spectators gasped and Charlotte was no exception. Her hand was covering her mouth and Tom instinctively ran his hand over her spine, inching closer to ask her if she was alright. She merely nodded, never taking her eyes of the stage.

When the music swelled, implying the woman would follow the man’s path suit, Tom could swear he felt Charlotte tensing up under his gentle touch.

A closer look indeed revealed her hesitating whether or not to keep looking. She ultimately squeezed her eyes shut and turned around slightly, gratefully clasping her hands over his forearms. The viewers gasped once more and she immediately scanned Tom’s expression for clues.

“What happened?"

But Tom only stood, gawking at the stage in stupor.

"What happened?" she pressed on before eventually turning her head back to see what had the growing whispering and gasping behind her back.

She heard Tom, brought back out of his daze, softly whispering “I thought you didn’t want to see this…?”

Dirty tease.

“I’m curious,” she defended as she looked back up to him again, “also, you were no help at all.”

“I’ve gathered that by now,” his lips gently brushed her ear as he mumbled on.

“It’s a problem, I know,” she sighed, “but I hàve to… else I’ll just imagine the worst.”

“You’ll imagine the worst?” he tilted an eyebrow in good humour.

“My imagination is my worst nightmare, I’m afraid…” her eyes twinkled as she joked.

 She could feel his eyes settle on her while he suppressed a laugh. Suddenly she was well aware of the fact that his hand had remained on the small of her back and her hands still clasped over his forearm. She found herself teetering on that fine line between composure and absolute surrender again. How could she not? After spending this perfect night with this charming man...

Glancing back up at him, only to find him looking right back at her, she wondered if she  balancing thin border alone or not. It didn’t help that the music was compelling, or the fact that shades of blue enhanced the mystery within his handsome features.

 Charlotte’s eyes travelled from his eyes to his lips. Everything about him called her in. Even hours prior, on Arthur’s Seat. Like a moth to a flame. She felt her pulse racing, her heartbeat deafening her ears.

She could vaguely see his lips parting slightly as if he wanted to say something but last-minute decided against it. Did he lean in closer or did she? She failed to remember. All she realised was that at some point she was close enough to feel her nose softly brushing against his cheek while her thumbs softly stroked his arms.

Her lips seemed to search out his but neglected to kiss them, instead they hover over his as if to sense whether they would fit, whether he would consent? Her eyes fluttered shut when she finally did dare to sweep her lips onto his.

It felt as if the world suddenly had stopped turning, as if all sound had left the venue and nothing else existed apart from them. There. Together.

It was silly, impulsive maybe, but there was no way running back from it now. And if all went to hell, well then, let it. At least she would feel no regret. After a while.

When her lips left his, she stood frozen for a moment, eyes closed, afraid to move, afraid to break the spell and afraid of how he might react.

Images of the World Cup Semi Final Party drift back into her mind. Sensations of a satisfying, yet tipsy kiss. Much less chaste than the one they shared now. But just like that night, she pulled back a little. And when she did dare to search his eyes again, she found they simply glistened at her in honesty; radiating warmth and looking at her lovingly.

His thumb grazed her soft lips. His weight shifted closer and she swore she heard him whispering her name while the distance between them was closed once more. He moved his fingers along her jaw, sliding them into the side of her hair when his lips capture hers in return.

Charlotte gladly and unreservedly surrendered to him, to his warmth, his taste, his scent and his touch. She adored how those first few kisses just lingered, although remaining featherlight before their eager lips parted, longing and desperate for so much more.

She easily moulded herself to his rhythm, her fingers drifting over the skin of his neck and proceeding to ghost over his bearded skin.  

She adored the fact that his hands gently but firmly enclosed themselves around her waist, so he could hold her firmly against his own body. Cradling her so devotedly moments before they both lost themselves in a very amorous embrace.

She felt as though her heart might burst.

Good lord. Don’t stop.

The sound of an enthusiastic applause in the venue brought them both back to earth quickly, cruelly ending their passionate embrace.

As the outside world started to slowly seep back in, Tom rested his forehead against Charlotte’s, basking in the sensation of her hand that still remained splayed out on his chest. His fingers combed through her hair and he relished in her sweet perfume that enticed him ever so much.

“We seem to have a knack for bad timing,” he chuckled to her amusement.

[theheartofpenelope]

Simple Things : Chapter ten

Excerpt - “He wanted her, needed her close, not ready to let her go just yet. The fact that they couldn’t act on this in public was torture. He nuzzled her neck and almost immediately felt her respond lovingly. Clearly, he was not alone in this agony.”

If you don’t like smut, skip part 4. If you do like smut, read part 4 twice and let me know... too much? *polishes halo* Tag list: @winterisakiller, @devikafernando, @scorpionchild81, @messy-insomniac-bookgirl, @smutsausage, @hiddlesbitch1 @noplacelikehome77 @wolfsmom1 @meh1217 @dina-bln @lilaeye39 @tinchentitri @fairlightswiftly @nonsensicalobsessions @wolfsmom1 @stmeiou @ink-and-starlight @givemecocoaa @profkmoriarty13 @nikkalia @massivelemon @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @argo-shila @emoietmoi @redfoxwritesstuff @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @raining-litter @theoneanna Author’s Notes/Warnings: tags will follow later on Anyway thank you in advance for feedback - would love to know what you think…Also on AO3 through this link Masterlist available through here Bonus: click here for the pinterest moodboard (always updated)

Chapter Ten Edinburgh – day two

1. As if the cruel temptation of having him so near but not being able to act upon impulses wasn’t enough… Charlotte effectively had to see Tom disappear into a cocoon; going into hiding behind a polished and flawless facade when professional acquaintances heartily greeted him, congratulating him on his latest project and promptly questioning his future plans. 

It was oddly conflicting and confusing to Charlotte, seeing as nearly 10 minutes ago her lips had been on his, and his on hers. Amorously so. He had taken her hand in his again and with a boyish grin laid eyes on her once more before guiding her out into the hallway of the venue. Ready to go somewhere, anywhere, where they could just ‘be’. 

However this was Edinburgh, and this wàs the Fringe Festival. And being an actor, it really wasn’t that unlikely that Tom would run into a familiar face sooner or later. Just like it wasn’t that abnormal that Charlotte would run into some newly-familiarized faces; professionals she’d gotten acquainted with during the latest seminars. It wasn’t ideal, but then again life never is.

Charlotte looked down at her hand in surprise when someone clasped her fingers around a chilled glass of champagne. “Cheers love!”, someone addressed her. Like a fish in the water Tom smiled, accepted the drink offered to him and returned the toast. For Charlotte, however, the world was suddenly turning a bit too fast.

Nobody knew who Charlotte was, nor did they really care for it. Or so it seemed. Although Tom did kindly introduce her to those who wanted to hear. And she was kindly included into a conversation she found had no reason to be in, with people she didn’t know and a fidgety but polite Tom by her side. 

Such is the juxtaposition of a renowned actor, she mused as she quickly scanned his features while sipping the chilled flute of champagne. Still, it dizzied her a bit and while she cared for both Toms, she longed for the private one to reveal himself again. Preferably soon.

2. Tom was well aware of the duality of the situation and searched for Charlotte around him, wanting to share both his regret and his apologies. He wanted, no he found he needed to make absolutely clear that there was no foul play on his behalf. That there could be no misunderstanding that this was most definitely not what he had in mind. 

Their kiss had left him reeling as well. Because this kiss was real, it felt ‘true’. Spontaneous, yet well-intended. Not at all like the drunken mishap last month, but a heartfelt surrender to whatever it was that had them pulling towards each other. It was all so ‘new’, both expected and unexpected. His heart was overjoyed, his mind enchanted and his body suddenly so impatiently hungry for her and her embrace, her arms, her hands, the scent of her sweet perfume, the softness of her warm lips onto his again, … Tom genuinely longed for nothing more than the world to stand still, granting him time and more privacy for the both of them than this place ever could offer. If only he could escape sooner… 

Finally settling his gaze onto her, he discovered Charlotte had bumped into some colleagues herself and was laughing heartily among and with them. She blended in so well. It only added to the guilt. 

His attention was turned back to his own conversation, where he nodded politely before sharing a laugh. Fuck. He was stuck already. Between professional and private life. Good lord Hiddleston, get yourself together. 

With a sigh, he resolutely finished his drink, hoping the director he was currently talking to would be equally understanding as he was eloquent. While this was a conversation he’d desperately longed for, the crowd they found themselves in was chaotic, happy and loud. It clouded his otherwise so precise attention. Or was that her doing? 

Tom dared to take his chance, and politely explained the eminent director he was, alas, otherwise engaged for the rest of the evening. And so Tom apologetically announced his early departure, but not before extending the amiable man an invitation to his performance the very next evening. With a gentle nod the director agreed, insisting they would ‘talk shop’ afterwards like the snazzy middle-aged man liked to call it. It was everything Tom could have hoped for and Tom thanked him heartily. 

He then subsequently tried reaching out to Charlotte discreetly, scraping his throat gently and brushing the back of his hand against hers, only to see her eyes flick back to him disclosing both her surprise and her warm friendliness. They exchanged a short smile, trying to reassure the other that they really were ‘alright’. 

Tom respectfully and humorously begged the group for their forgiveness on his intrusion but he hàd promised to offer a certain lady the Tour of Fringe… It clearly amused Charlotte who promptly bid her goodbyes to the group before joining him on his path. 

She playfully whispered into his ear that her colleagues had been asking her if she’d won a competition of some sort. Tom only chuckled in delight wondering what competition hé had won as they left the venue together, yet at a friendly distance. PR-wise picture perfect. You’re welcome, Luke. 

3. They managed to somehow maintain their distance as they strolled through the streets of Edinburgh that evening, setting their sights on all sorts of street performers. No hands were held anymore, but there was the odd brushing up against each other whenever or wherever possible. Not at all hard when walking amongst crowds. Charlotte bit her lip and glanced down to prevent herself from giggling out loud while Tom mischievously grinned and looked up the other way, trying to maintain his innocence. It was you basic silly teenager material but oh lord it felt so good. 

When Charlotte spotted one of the marching giants of the ‘Royal de Luxe’-company, she reached for his hand and wordlessly tugged Tom along. 

“I know this,” she finally told him while pointing up to the giant portraying a little girl; a gigantic puppet that was made to walk so smoothly by a dozen people. Strange, how the magic of the walking ‘puppet’ instantly made you overlook the enormous amount of people working those giants. 

“She’s looking for her uncle, the Diver. He lost his hand and ….” As Charlotte elaborated Tom stepped in closer behind her, his chest against her spine. He had to give to her, the sight was nothing short of spectacular. All spectators were in absolute awe, looking up at the performance in awe. Perfect. Tom felt at ease at the fact there were no eyes on him when looked towards Charlotte and sweetly kissed the croak of her neck while she was admiring the marching giants. A fleeting, tender imprint of his warm lips on her delicate skin. An affirmation of his fondness of her.   

He wanted her, needed her close, not ready to let her go just yet. The fact that they couldn’t act on this in public was torture. He nuzzled her neck and almost immediately felt her respond lovingly. Clearly, he was not alone in this agony. 

Upon seeing the giants passing them by, he swiftly led her away before anyone else could notice them. They moved through a mass of spectators, in the opposite direction no less, towards the labyrinth of Edinburgh’s wee, wonderful alleyways. Tom had scoundered these passages so many times before, he knew them like the back of his hand. And he knew they would allow them to climb the steps back to her hotel in privacy, secrecy even.  

Charlotte chuckled as she followed his fast pace. All the more thankful when they finally came to a halt in a small alleyway. Here there was room to move, room to breathe, room to look into his eyes again without reservation. 

“Better here,” he smiled, “no?”

“Much,” she agreed as she slid her hand into his awaiting one before climbing up the first steps, “as long as you know the way…” 

He assured her he did while leading her through a close and then up another alleyway which was even more breathtaking than the one before. And nearly deserted, except for that couple of tourists who were making their descent. Tom would clearly hear Charlotte holding her breath momentarily but he gladly turned to her, stepping her back onto a dark threshold where he wordlessly pulled her into a very longing kiss. Charlotte moaned in surprised delight, her fingers fisting the textile of his shirt into her eager hands, while his lips cleverly filled her in exactly how badly he had been wanting to kiss her within that last hour.  

She could hear the passing tourists chuckling at their foolish amorous display, however never any the wiser who in fact they had just crossed. And with renewed fervour at that discovery she gladly ran her hand from the nape of his neck up through his soft curls, before softly teasing her tongue over his upper lip. The alley may have been dimly light, but she could distinctly see - and feel - his lips turning into a delighted smile before they submitted to a very ravenous kiss.  

Good heavens.

All this skulking had Charlotte feeling like a hormonal teen again and she was very happy to discover she was not alone in this predicament. Finally breaking away from each other, they blissfully giggled to themselves as they stepped out of their confinement. She could feel his hand leaving his position in favour to delicately slide over her spine, before coming to rest on her hip where it nestled itself firmly. And Charlotte tenderly leaned into Tom for the rest if the hike, painfully aware he took the opportunity to kiss the temple of her head and murmuring “no more interruptions, I promise.”

Damn those fireflies…

4. He walked her to her hotel in silence. Again, at a safe distance. He wanted to make sure she would return safe, but got out a level below hers in the elevator. Always so discreet. Charlotte sighed and shook her head. What was she getting herself into? Denying anything was going in in public, yet making out it like teenagers on a curfew in endarkended passages. And now getting out a different floors in the hotel. It made her feel like a broken pendulum. Swinging from far left to the bare right one instant, and coming to a prompt full stop the next.

 This felt so strange, so fabricated. It did not feel as real as she would have imagined it to. She quietly wandered over to her hotel room, the silence only being broken by the beeping of the card slot as she opened the door. 

Walking inside she kicked of her shoes and proceeded to shut the curtains before idly collecting his paperback and the hardcover she’d gifted him. He would want to take this back with him, she pondered. 

Charlotte strode back across the room upon his knocking. She would be lying if she was to say that all of this was not what she wanted. Dear lord, how had she longed to be with him in privacy. Just the two of them. But now that they were here... her heart had started beating incessantly. 

“I erm - I got you your books,” she murmured as she ushered him inside. However she was hesitant to bring herself to look up into his eyes again. Both afraid of what her look might give away and equally afraid to find whatever was lingering in his eyes. So her vision remained caught on her hands and the books she offered to him, and his hands reaching out to accept it from her. His fingertips gently brushed against hers. 

“Charlotte,” a hoarse whisper while his nose brushed against her cheek. 

Her stomach makes a somersault.

“Charlotte,” he persisted. 

“I can’t look up,” she explained quietly, “because I’m afraid of what I might do… And it’s not what I usually do...”

“May I kiss you?”

She knew why he was asking her. He wants to be sure. He wants to be certain. Good heavens. Under closed eyes, she swallowed nervously once and then nods. 

He dipped his head slowly, brushing his lips against hers. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her slow and gently. Sensual. She could feel the hairs in the back of her neck rise up. He held her impossibly close and she swore she could feel herself melt away in his embrace. A subtle moan escaped her lips and the books unceremoniously fell to the floor. Her hands reach up to his neck where they hold on for dear life while his mouth claims hers. She stand on her toes, allowing him to press herself closer still and then finally meets his gaze.

“Hi,” she whispered. 

“Hi,” a lopsided smile.

“There you are again,” Charlotte smiled softly, running her fingers through his curls. 

“I can’t tell you how hard it was to walk the streets with you this evening, without being able to kiss you whenever I want to.”

Charlotte’s fingertips trailed to the side of his head and caressed his soft beard. 

“…to hold you,” he emphasized while his hands languidly roamed over her body, tracing every single curve, “…to touch you.” 

His mouth moved from below her ear, down to her neck where his warm lips brushed over her collarbone, peppering its course with gentle kisses. It lured a shiver from her and she was at a loss for words, feeling both hot and cold, both treasured and lonely. And a very large part of her felt as if she might starve if his lips wouldn’t claim hers again soon. 

“This had been the strangest evening,” he contemplated. 

Charlotte breathed out. “Tom,” she finally mustered. 

Her hand cupped his cheek and she relished how he leant down in her hand with closed eyes, like a young boy savouring the love bestowed upon him. She adored how he kissed the palm of her hand while watching her under lidded eyes.  

Oh lord knows how hard she’d been trying to keep her own composure but it just seemed to be too much now. They had been circling each other, wanting each other, all night long. And he, on his part, felt he could just devour her with need alone.

“Kiss me again,” a pause, “please?”

And Tom gladly obliged within an instant, pushing his hands through her long hair and holding her head to him. She gasped when she sensed his mouth nipping her bottom lip. 

Such a good kisser.

“Well, hmmm,” he panted as he pulled back a little, “seeing you’re back safe now...I erm - I probably best be going.” 

Charlotte softly licked her lower lip and nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah,” she breathed, “yes, you should.”

Her lips were so warm, soft and welcoming. God how he had missed those lips. He took a breath to steady himself before losing himself to her. Just once more.

“Mhmm,” he moaned into her mouth, “gone already.” 

Charlotte chuckled coyly as they exchanged just ‘one more kiss’, one more lick and nip, one more stroke of his strong hand over her shoulder, along her spine and over her soft curves. Over her hips, down to her thighs. Honestly, it wasn't him. It was that inobedient hand of his that lifted her leg over his hipbone and his defiant body that hungrily leaned into hers.

Charlotte groaned and gasped while settling the heel of her foot into his lower back. A tacit urge to press him up harder against her. Just like his body had been clear in his demand, so was hers now. Tom growled under his breath, earning a sweet helpless groan from her mouth.

His lips travelled down the side of her neck, to her collarbone. She tasted so sweet, she smelled so exquisite. His teeth softly grazed the tender bone and he felt the consecutive goosebumps that rose onto her arms. 

Charlotte clawed at his shirt, pushing it up over his fim torso and he assisted her in tugging it over his head. Flinging it to the floor, wherever it would land. On his part, he gently slid the zipper of her dress down, never taking his lips off her neck in the process. One simple twist of her shoulders and it pooled around her feet. 

Goodness gracious. 

He pulled himself from her for a minute to admire her. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Tom,” she whispered, “Tom, please.”

“It’s true,” he insisted. His deep blue eyes locking with hers for a moment before he confessed his words with a loving kiss. 

She adored how he lifted her off of her feet so easily and tenderly laid her down on the bed. He took his time, exploring every inch of her with his fingertips and then his lips. Kissing, caressing and teasing. 

Charlotte admired his restraint. She felt as if he wanted to explore all of her, memorise every curve and every edge whereas she? She could only arch her back as he did just that. Tom playfully bit down her chin, much to her delight. 

Christ, it had been so long. 

Tom found there was something so completely liberating into seeing her find pleasure in his actions. She whimpered and groaned under his touch and he relished it. 

My god, did he relish it. 

As their state of undress hastily continued, his lips moved down her neck to her curvy bosom where they closed over a pink peak, sucking it gently between his lips while his other hand firmly cupped her other breast . 

Charlotte whimpered helplessly and slowly moved her body underneath his, eager to find some friction. His erection was now clearly presenting itself against her thighs. And she pushed her hips into him needily. It had the desired effect, Tom groaned and he teasingly grazed his teeth over her nipple before reaching down, sliding his hands over her soft ass cheeks and grabbing onto her hips eagerly. Enough now. 

He ran his fingertips over her inner thighs and Charlotte wavered at his feather light touch. They travelled over her soft mound, stroking and teasing sweetly as they worked towards that little bundle of nerves. 

Charlotte clasped her own fingers ever so tightly into his back and breathed out his name in a heartfelt wanton plea. She could feel oblivion approaching so fast and she wanted to pull him in closer, or kiss him or just do something before she ultimately fell apart underneath his touch... She felt as if all her thoughts had come done shattering to the floor. 

It happened so fast, but not a second too soon. With a sense of boyish pride, Tom left a trail of hungry kiss down the column of her throat as Charlotte tried grounding herself.

He did find it took quite a lot of willpower to keep himself calm and patient in the process.

“Tom,” she whispered softly, “need you.”

He purred his own needs back at her, and softly slid in between her folds. His forehead rested against hers, their lips desperately searching each other, but failing to connect. 

Good heavens, he would not, could not last much longer.  

He clasped his hands over hers, softly taking control over her as he felt himself nearing his own climax. Charlotte moaned with eyes closed, frowning and flinching in complete and utter surrender. So arousing. Tom groaned and bit his lip while picking up the pace. Once. Twice. Lord almighty. 

His own climax followed all too soon to his liking. He winced and groaned as he sank down slightly on top of her, falling apart. He could hear her whimpering and breathing his name back at him, and a soft grunt fell from his lisp as he let himself slowly come down from his own high. 

What the everloving fuck...

As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t stay like this, potentially crushing her underneath his knackered form. Pushing himself up he rose his head up slightly, brushing her long hair aside and admiring her discarded state. She was the most beautiful as he had ever seen. 

Still hovering on top of her, he leant down gently, offering Charlotte a lazy kiss. They caught their breath in unison and chuckled. No more words needed here...