My little Squeaky Toy

You walked down a street. A street that looked nearly exactly as all the other streets you had already passed. The sixth time in a row you questioned yourself why you hadn’t brought the goddamn map along, why you hadn’t considered the usefulness of it. Sure, google maps would have been an alternative, but in another country, with no functioning network available on your phone, that wouldn’t be useful either.

Exhausted, because you had been up since early in the morning and wandering around all day to visit as much attractions as you could possibly do on one day (classical tourist here), you squished the little squeaky toy in your hands. Good, that only a few people were around. You could only imagine what you had to look like at that moment. Stressed out, exasperated and tired, massaging a small toy with your hand, producing high squeaky noises in the process. Actually, it resembled those balls that one could buy to relieve stress. Only that you didn’t use it on that purpose. No, the reason you had that tiny, and somehow cute, thing was, that it hindered you from swearing and cursing.

I don’t even know where I am! Where are those f***ing street signs?!

Of course, the easiest thing to solve your problem was walking up to someone and simply asking them for directions. But you couldn’t. That was embarrassing, plus everyone would then know that you had no clue about your current location.

Squinting your eyes you tried to somehow get a glimpse of your surroundings, but it was already dark and you had only seen the rest of the city in bright daylight.

Naturally, London by night was an absolutely stunning sight, too, but not when you more and more got the feeling that everything around you had been designed to stress people out, who weren’t able to find their way back home, or to the hotel.

You let out a frustrated sigh and sat down on a nearby bench, resting your tired and hurting feet. There was a park close-by, which you hadn’t come across already.

Congratulations! You’re not moving in a circle.

At least, to not move in a circle was better than going around in circles in the same area all the time. Because that would have been quite typical for you, too. It wouldn’t had been the first time.

You looked around a bit, trying to decide if you should take a photo so that you would forever be able to remember that glorious time when you got lost in the middle of the night in London.

As you sat there, completely lost in your own thoughts, still massaging the little squeaky toy, you didn’t notice how empty it had gotten. The next time you took a look at your watch it was far past nine in the evening. Resigned, you started to make plans on spending the night in the park or on a bench or a bus stop, because you were pretty much sure that you wouldn’t make it back, anyways.

Soft rain started to pour from heaven, greeting you with its clamminess, sticking to your skin in an instant.

Maybe you should finally ask someone, anyone, for directions.

If there had been anyone around. Which was not the case.

You stood up and stretched your numb, tingling limbs. Heading in the opposite direction you came from, you briefly wondered if the busses were still driving. It was late and you hadn’t looked up the exact opening hours of the public travel services.

The headlights on the next branch off you reached turned red the moment you wanted to cross the road. For an instant, you thought about just walking and ignoring the rules, but at the exact moment you sat one foot onto the street, you caught a glimpse of a pair of grey boots next to your own. They were bigger than yours, their owner definitely a man, because there was no way a woman would have feet that great.

You let your gaze travel up that body, not able to draw your eyes away. Jeez, those legs. How could anyone have such long and lean legs? They were wrapped in black tight trousers. A dark blue shirt started where the trousers ended, the sleeves seemingly carefully rolled up. You had to tilt your head up to get a better look at the stranger’s face. Underneath the street light you could guess dark, ginger-like and wavy curls and a carefully groomed beard of the same colour. Glasses with a black frame sat on his delicate nose. Sadly, the bad lighting didn’t allow you to identify or recognize his skin and eye colour, but they both seemed pretty fair and you could swear you saw some freckles under his ears.

Perhaps you had been staring for longer than you had intended, because the beautiful man next to you shifted uncomfortably and slowly turned to look at you. And then right away at the squeaky toy in your hands, a confused look on his face, which prompted one of his eyebrows to raise unnaturally high. Somehow he felt familiar, but you couldn’t grasp what exactly it was.

“Uhhhhm…” You blinked at him for the entirety of a minute (perhaps even some more), lost in his unnaturally bluish-green eyes. “Uhm…”

The man in front of you narrowed his eyes, but full of worry and concern.

Say something, say something, say something, come on you have a mouth! Use it goddamnit!

“I got lost can you maybe show me the way back to my hotel?” You blurted out. When you realized how unbelievably rude you just had been you opened your mouth to apologize, but the stranger interrupted you with a kind smile.

“Oh dear. No wonder you look so frightened.” He gently reached out and cupped your elbow, to move away from the street, and guided you underneath one of the old-fashioned cast iron street lamps. “What’s your name, Darling?” His smile was genuine. Usually, you were not the type of person who easily trusted strangers they randomly met in the middle of the night in an empty area of the City of London.

“My name is… I’m (Y/N).” You stammered and bit your lower lip in embarrassment. Talking to strangers was not a thing you were used to.

“Nice to meet you.” He took your hand, lifted it to his lips and smiled charmingly, never breaking eye contact, before he planted a soft kiss on the back of your hand, leaving a light tingle behind as he let go again. “I’m Tom.”

Left speechless you gazed at him, completely zoned out. You couldn’t be that lucky, there had to be a snag somewhere.

“Ehehe.” His slightly embarrassed laugh startled you out of your thoughts, especially because it was adorable and sort of cute. And you were absolutely sure that you had heard a similar, perhaps the same, laugh before.

“You wanted to ask me for directions, Darling.” His voice sounded calm, friendly, not the slightest bit annoyed or stressed. The smooth baritone sent shivers down your spine.

“Uhm, yes, sure. I have no clue where I am.” You fumbled with the business card of the hotel. “And I don’t know how to get to this address.”

Nodding, obviously understanding your problem, Tom took the card out of your hands and quickly scanned the address, before looking up again. “That’s impossible to walk.” Flashing a glance at you, he was quick to add “Especially for a young woman like you. There is a bus stop not far from here. Do you have a map?”

You flinched and automatically squeezed the toy in your hands, producing a high-pitched noise. Tom had the grace neither to comment or laugh, instead, he remained calm and smiled once more.

“I guess that’s a no then?”

You felt fear rise in your chest. It tightened painfully and your heart beat fast against your ribcage, the nervousness causing you to fidget on the toy.

“No, no, Darling, it’s alright. I’ll walk you there.”

You wanted to protest, to say that it wasn’t necessary, that he should just describe the way, but you kept quiet. Somehow relieved to have someone by your side, even if it was a stranger, even if he would be gone soon.

“It’s not far, maybe five minutes to walk.” Tom gently placed a hand on your lower back to lead you in the correct direction, automatically choosing to walk on the right side and with that successfully shielding you from the road. “So where are you from? If I’m allowed to ask?” He nearly looked alarmed at his own forwardness.

“Yes, I’m from (Y/C).” You relaxed slightly, his hand on your back easing your stressed mind. It wasn’t uncomfortable, quite the contrary.

“Wow, that is why you have this sweet accent of yours.”

Heat rose into your cheeks and you literally could feel yourself blushing right on the spot. “Yes?”

“May I ask what you are doing in London, Darling? Vacation?”

“No… I mean, yes.” You observed his profile while walking. God, that man had some looks.

“All on your own?” He walked one step ahead of you but otherwise had his pace slowed down.

“I needed time for myself.”

“Life can be rather stressful.” Tom slowed down again when you arrived at the bus stop. “Here you are.”

“Thank you so much.” You turned to look at him and handed him your own business card. “Just… I feel a bit guilty, so just let me know if you need something.”

An honest smile spread across his face. “You’re welcome, darling. And thank you.”

Turning around, you started rummaging in your bag for your purse, but you quickly paused in your actions when you remembered that you had left it in the hotel. And the money you had taken with you had been spent on your lunch and dinner and the ticket for the London Eye.

“Is everything alright?”

You flinched slightly, not having noticed that Tom was still there, watching you intently and with a look of worry on his face.

“Yes, Yes, everything is good, thank you.” Desperately, you tried not to sound nervous, but you had never been a good liar.

“Do you need money? How much is the ticket?” Startled by his friendliness you were struck speechless.

“No I’m fine, thanks. I’m, I’m fine.” Although you knew that you had definitely left your purse in the safe of your hotel room, you still tried to find it in your bag. Of course, you didn’t.

“I honestly don’t think that you’re fine, Darling.” Tom reached out his hand and gave you a reassuring nod. Within his palm laid some money he had taken out of his wallet. “Here, take that. 1,50 £ won’t make me poor.”

His wholehearted enthusiasm made you blush all over again. You didn’t even want to know what he thought while looking at your overheated, reddened face.

“That’s not… that’s not necessary, really. I’ll just walk.” And never arrive at my destination, you thought to yourself, but kept quiet. You would rather walk than take his money, just to feel guilty afterwards.

“Sweetheart, that’s way too far to walk alone. Just take the money already. You don’t have to feel guilty about it.”

A bit dumbfounded, you took the money and thanked him quietly. It was more than awkward, accepting money from a total stranger, and you wouldn’t even be able to pay it back, because you knew that it was unlikely that you would ever see him again.

“Thank you.” It was a mere whisper, but it was the only thing you were able to manage and you couldn’t stop noticing how soft, big and lean his hands were. The grip surprisingly strong.

“I’m just…” Stumbling over your own words you held out your squeaky toy. “Take this.”

Now he did look confused, but being polite and good-natured, he reached for the squeaky toy and inspected it closely. “Relieving your stress with this? Does it have a name?”

“Fighting my urge to swear, actually.” You bit your bottom lip and looked down. “And no, you can call it whatever you like.”

Tom opened his mouth to say something, but closed it, when the bus arrived and you had to leave. You awkwardly said your goodbyes, paying for your ticket with his money, before you entered the red bus and sat down on the window side. Luckily, you weren’t the only one.

When you leaned your head against the cold glass you caught a glimpse of what looked like dark ginger curls and a blue shirt. With a jolt you sat up straight and earned a grin from Tom, who was still standing at the bus stop, seemingly waiting for the bus to depart. You couldn’t believe your eyes as he raised his hand to wave slightly. He could have just gone home, but instead he stood there, in the rain that had intensified and smiled as if it was nothing special.

You watched how he waited patiently, his eyes never leaving the bus, then, how he slowly got smaller with every metre the bus drove away, until you weren’t able to see him anymore. Never had you thought that you would meet someone like that in London. Someone that special.

Somehow (thanks to Tom’s description of where you had to go when you left the bus) you managed to find your way, safe and in one piece, back to your hotel. You didn’t care about anything anymore, not even a shower. Your body ached way too much from all the walking and standing you had undergone that day.

It was when you had thrown yourself onto the bed and switched on your phone, being confronted with your screen picture, that you finally realized whom you had just met.