Chapter Text
It is impossible this time for you to brush what had happened under the carpet and carry on with life. You had spent Christmas Day with everyone but you weren’t mentally there. Going home to your family had helped to distract your mind for a while but now that you are back in your own house the loneliness and doubt creeps in. Not to mention a terrible cold from running out in the rain!
Love Richard. Those are the words that stare at you from the book shelf where you had hung the tag from (along with adding The Father Christmas Letters to your collection after reading it cover to cover. It really was a beautiful little book) as you sit on the sofa and replay those events over and over again in your head.
The way that Richard had asked to kiss you had been so gentlemanly of him, and the fact that he had returned of his own free will several times after your initial meeting had to imply that he cares about you even a little bit.
Unable to move from this spot, you lie on the sofa with a warm mug of hot chocolate, tissues to hold back the tears and blankets and reflect. You hate yourself for this clichéd melancholy that you have fallen into, yet you are unable to get out of it on your own. Though you are conscious of the fact that you must move soon or else the bills will start to stack up.
It is for this reason -and the fact that you simply need to talk to someone- that two weeks after Christmas when your cold finally clears up you find yourself treading the all too familiar walk to Waterstones.
You can’t help but be nervous. Your brain reminds you that this early into the new year Richard will still be on the film shoot in America but a part of you expects to see him standing there, waiting at the counter with a book in hand and the blue beanie on his head. He isn’t and you feel depressed again. It takes a lot of mental energy not to turn out of the shop but to carry on in, looking for the person you had wanted to talk to. You eventually find him at an upstairs till.
“Hi Harry,” you say when he finishes serving a customer.
“Hey!” Harry looks both surprised and delighted to see you. “Not seen you in a while, how’s it going?”
“Oh, you know,” you try to keep your tone airy but your voice catches in your throat. It doesn’t go unnoticed.
“I’ve got a break now; would you want to get a coffee and chat?” Harry says. You nod and he goes and grabs his coat. As you both leave the shop and mass of blonde curls dives into Harry’s arms and kisses him on the cheek.
“Deedee!” he exclaims in delight.
“Harry, are you on your break now?” Harry’s girlfriend Dee pouts at him slightly as she surveys him with puppy-dog eyes.
“Yeah, we’re going to get coffee,” Harry indicates you and Dee finally spots you standing there. “(Y/N) just wants someone to talk to-”
“Is it boy trouble?” Dee fixes you in her knowing gaze and you nod uncertainly. She gives a small “squeeee!” of excitement before taking your wrist in a vice-like grip and dragging you towards the nearest coffee shop across the street. She sets Harry up with the task of getting the drinks and pulls you into a private corner by the window.
“So what’s been going on?” Dee stares intently at you. “Is there some boy giving you trouble? Do you need anybody beaten up?”
“No, no, it’s not that,” you say, laughing slightly besides yourself at Dee’s eagerness.
“It would be no trouble; I’d get Harry to beat them up!”
“Thanks, but no,” you say, not quite believing that Harry could be capable of beating up anybody. You sigh as you try to put your emotions into words. “I… met someone… before Christmas. And we only saw each other a few times but each time was so special- you know…”
Dee smiled dreamily. “Yeah,” she sighed.
“And… he kissed me one time and gave me a gift that says Love… from him,” you were about to say his name but trail off. Would Dee really believe you if you told her the person in question was Richard Armitage? Probably not, and even if you did tell her who it was you don’t think you could stand her dismissing your feelings as a fangirl crush. “But it just feels like he is in a whole other world to me that I know nothing about and don’t belong in.”
As you admit your fears you feel tears well up into your eyes and you bite your lip, determined not to start crying. “It’s the thing of- because I don’t belong in that world I don’t know if his feelings are real or not.”
You look at Dee who stares silently out of the window for a moment.
“I don’t know if it’s a class thing and I don’t like to pry,” she says finally. “But it sounds to me what you need most is to talk openly to him about it, and where he sees your relationship going.”
“That’s part of the problem- I don’t even know where he is right now. It was always him who found me.”
“He isn’t stalking you, is he?”
“No! He’s been a complete gentleman the whole time we’ve been together.”
As Dee opens her mouth to reply, Harry arrives with the drinks. “Here we are,” he says, handing you a mug. “I didn’t know if you wanted sugar or not-”
“Well, I really shouldn’t, I’m on a diet” Dee pouts.
“I’ll get it.”
“No it’s fine, I’ll go.”
Dee get up and goes to the counter and Harry takes her seat. “So, what’s up with you and Richard Armitage?”
Your mouth drops open at how blasé he is about it. Not to mention you had never discussed Richard with him before. “How did you know it was him?”
“I did as you said and checked the CCTV,” Harry shrugs, tipping milk into his coffee. “That and that stupid temp Kenny was shouting about him being the one on the till when he came into the shop. Insane or what? Why did you not say so sooner? You could of at least got his autograph for me, you know I love the Hobbit films! I’m guessing he’s the guy you’re so caught up on?”
You nod and your throat catches again as you remember what Dee had said before. “I just want to talk to him and find out what’s going on.”
“Please tell me he’s not the reason you’ve missed so much work?”
“No, I really have had a cold.” You don’t feel bad about saying this as it is mostly true.
“Is it serious between you two?” Harry continues. “How many times did you see each other?”
You count in your head. “At least three separate occasions.”
“Three dates?” Harry’s eyes go wide. “Please tell me he kissed you on the third date?” You nod uncertainly, once again wondering how he knew and Harry punches the air. “Yes! That’s so Vicar of Dibley of him!”
“Now you’re the one acting like a fangirl!” you grin, quickly faltering. “But it did seem like it was getting serious-”
“Little hint- if he introduces you to a strange but attractive woman it’s actually his sister and she’s helping him decide whether or not to propose to you!”
“Very funny,” you mutter darkly. You can’t help but feel that Harry isn’t taking this seriously at all.
“But you say you want to talk to him?”
“Yes.”
“I might be able to help you there.” A twinkle appears in Harry’s eyes as he flicks through a notepad he keeps on him, tears out a page and offers it to you. You stare at the piece of paper- a mobile number is written on it.
“What is this?”
“He phoned the store soon after Christmas and left a number with me for you so you could call him back,” Harry explains. “And yes, that number is already saved into my phone for personal purposes!”
You take the piece of paper not quite daring to believe it. Dee returns with her sugar and the conversation moves on.
“Please come back to work soon,” Harry says. “The temps have been driving Jasper up the wall, I’m sure he’d love to see your face soon!”
“I’ll email him,” you promise. Afterwards, Harry returns to Waterstones and Dee wanders off after making sure one final time that you are going to be OK. You drift through town, the mobile number clenched in your hand in your pocket until you find a quiet seat to sit down. You take out your mobile but it takes a lot of effort to punch in the numbers- deleting them and re-entering them several times as you try to plan out in your head what to say if he answers. Eventually the number is entered and your finger hovers over the green icon, your heart pounding, trying to work up the nerve to hit the button.
You bite your lip, steel yourself and press the green icon. Putting the phone to your ear you can hear the dial tone and worry that maybe this was just a prank by Harry, that this wasn’t Richard’s number at all and you’ll get through to the local Chinese takeaway, until finally after what feels like a lifetime listening to your beating heart the call is answered.
“Hello?” You catch your breath and every single worry that you’d had flies out of your head in this instant as you hear his voice again.
Unfortunately Richard hadn’t been able to talk on the phone for very long as he had only just got back from America and was meeting with his agent, but he had been very glad to hear from you and suggested the two of you meet up to “talk” soon. This is how a week after the phone call you find yourself in London, frequently checking a map to a quiet members-only restaurant in the centre of the West End.
You have to be buzzed in by a doorman who then checks your name against a list before leading you upstairs past the restaurant where other people are busy having their lunch and up to a private room.
The room is like being in a personal library; books on shelves lining the walls and natural light pouring in through the window in front of which stand two high-back comfy chairs with a table set ready for two just between them. The books help to calm your nerves as it almost feels like being back in Waterstones.
You are waiting for about ten minutes before there are footsteps on the wooden floorboards outside and the door opens. There stands Richard- still in his winter coat, blue hat in hand and slightly out of breath but he smiles widely when he sees you.
“Hey!” he breaths.
“Hey!” you beam back.
You had worried things might seem awkward between the two of you, but Richard wasted no time in walking up to you and kissing your cheek. His skin is cool against your warm face from being outside yet quite pleasant, his bristly beard tickling your cheek.
“You’re looking good,” he says, taking a step back. You’re not sure you feel good but you take the compliment anyway.
“Thanks. You look fantastic. You’ve cut your hair!” You exclaim when he takes his hat off. Where before his hair had been longer and floppy now it is dangerously short and makes him look that much older.
“Yeah, it was required for the shoot,” Richard runs an absent hand through his stubbly hair.
“How did it go?”
“Intense, it was an intense shoot, but it was good at the same time, well worth doing,” he nods. The waiter enters bearing a tray set with tea for two which he places on the table before leaving. You both sit in the chairs as Richard pours out.
“How have things been at work for you?” he asks politely as he adds milk.
“Well, I wasn’t there for about two weeks after Christmas-”
“Nothing wrong I hope?” Richard looks up quickly from the tea at you.
“Oh, no, I just had a cold was all.”
Richard laughs. “You too? I had a cold for about a week on set after running in the rain!”
You laugh for a moment but it fades quickly. Already you are on the topic of your last meeting. His expression becomes serious too.
“I just wanted to say… about what happened the last time we met up,” Richard says hesitantly. “I worry that I might have been too forward in asking to kiss you, so… I’m sorry.”
“What? You don’t have to apologise,” you reply, feeling slightly shocked that he should feel the need to say sorry. “It was… nice, it was… very pleasant”
You blush in admitting this to him but he seems encouraged by this.
“I’m glad,” he sighs with relief. “But… when you left straight after we kissed, I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know if I’d offended you or-”
“No, no, not at all,” you assure him. “It’s just the thing of… we’re such different people. You’re you. You’re Richard Armitage-”
“And you’re (Y/N), what of it?” Richard retorted.
“But… you’re a celebrity, and I’m…” you stammer to reply, trying to explain it to yourself as much as to him. “It’s not that you’re intimidating or anything, but I didn’t know-”
“If I do actually care about you or not?” he finishes sadly for you. You bite your lip and nod. Again it feels like the knife has been twisted in your heart.
Richard takes a breath and places his hand on top of yours in your lap. “Listen- from the first time when we met and you returned my hat I’ve been in awe of you. You’re sweet, kind, mad as a hatter sometimes, and, when I kissed you that day I had to try. I had to put my heart out on the line because I really do love you. And I had to know if you feel the same way.”
You are stunned into silence and your eyes drop from his for a long time. You think back over how you had felt in the weeks that had passed since your last meeting, of how you had shamefully pined for him, then of the times that you had met Richard before. The fun you’d had together in those moments of madness, how easy it had been talking to one another in his car and on your sofa and you realise that you do feel the same.
You twist your hand so that it is grasping his. “I love you too,” you whisper, tears starting to catch in your eyes. “And I do want to give things a go between us.”
Richard’s other hand cups the side of your face and lifts it up so that you are looking him straight in the eyes. They are bright and beaming with hope and you smile in return, the tears finally spilling out of the edge of your eyes. He brushes them lightly away with his fingers, each stroke bringing your cheek into the palm of his hands.
“There’s no need to cry,” he says kindly. “We can do this.”
“Shut up, I’m crying because I’m happy!” you snap lightly and Richard laughs
As you look at him it seems that he is silently asking you a question, but this time he doesn’t have to voice it. His eyes ask the question which your lips gladly answer. Your lips press against his and he kisses you back, all doubt finally melting away and you feel certain that no matter what may come your way you can overcome it together with Richard.