My little Squeaky Toy Pt.4

A few weeks had passed since the meeting in the art gallery, and you had managed to write almost every day. You were surprised about how much the two of you talked when he found the time to call you. He used to ask you a lot of questions and you wondered if it wasn’t getting boring for him to hear your normal life stories. But he showed genuine interest and listened to your stuttering or the difficulties you had with your job. It was as if he wanted to know as much as possible about you and that somehow made you feel special in a way you had never felt before. The simplicity that lay between you and Tom when you talked or messaged each other managed to calm you down, even if it was just a little bit. It was astonishing, what Tom had already done to you.

After a good amount of phone calls, which had lasted at least three hours each, you had started to draw at the same time, because you somehow needed to keep your hands busy and some inspiration had struck you.

You were in the middle of painting again – your fingers full of black and grey colour – when your phone rang once again. It was placed right in front of you on the table of your living room, so you would never miss one of his messages or calls.

On the other hand, he seemed to arrange his phone calls always at times at which you were definitely at home and available. Could be coincidence, but you didn’t think so. He had been too obviously asking about your time schedule, your spare time and your weekends. Consequently, he knew exactly when you had time to talk and when not. That man was a miracle. He seemed to remember nearly everything that you had already told him. Sometimes catching you completely off guard with questions about topics you didn’t even recall talking about.

“Hello?” Trying to not sound too excited about his call didn’t quite work, but it had been worth a try.

“Did I interrupt something?” Came his answer almost instantly. His smooth, deep voice sounded a bit worried. “I would be terribly sorry if I did.”

Bastard, you thought,always with his friendliness and good manners, worrying and caring about everyone but himself.

“No. I’ve been painting until now, and needed to clean my hands, that’s why it took me a moment to answer.” Unable to suppress the smile that formed on your lips, you brushed a few strands of hair out of your face. Of course, you hadn’t actually cleaned your hands, but he didn’t have to know that you had nearly spent two minutes thinking about him before picking up the phone.

“Sorry. Shall I call again later?”

“NO!” Realizing that you had just screamed at him, you were quick to correct yourself. “I mean no, it’s fine. You couldn’t have known what I’m doing right now. Thank you for calling.” You rambled a bit but didn’t care about it. Tom had already witnessed so much since you two had met. Your blushing, the squeaky toy, cursing and following squeaking, your endless stuttering. He was a very patient and kind man. Everyone you had met before had – at one point – turned their back on you. Besides your friends, obviously. But you preferred to keep your circle of friends relatively small.

You heard him chuckle and immediately longed to see his face. “It’s good to hear that I’m not the only one enjoying our little phone sessions.”

You felt yourself blush. Tom hadn’t said something like that before, you had simply assumed that he had to like it because he had been the one to always call you.

“How has your day been so far, darling?”

Darling, you knew he called literally everyone darling, but somehow you liked the way he pronounced it when he was talking to you.

“Good, thank you. Work was a bit stressful as always, but everything has been just fine until you called.”

“How am I supposed to understand this?” He mocked gently, obviously not in the intent to annoy or embarrass you. Just childish - but sort of adorable - joking around.

“That depends on your interpretation of it.” You teased, but seconds later you were already worrying about what you had just said.

“Huh, cheeky today.” You didn’t miss the amused tone in his voice. So he wasn’t angry or upset, good to know.

“No, that’s not-! I just….!” You felt your face flushing and internally thanked god that you were just talking and not seeing each other.

The sweet and deep chuckle on the other side of the line startled you out of your slight daze.

“Don’t worry, calm down, darling.” The low tone sent a shiver down your spine. “It’s adorable.”

“Yeah, sure it is.” That you sounded that devastated hadn’t been the plan, but well, now you would have to go with it.

“No need to be so self-contemptuous.” It sounded as if he wanted to say something else but he kept quiet, giving you the chance to speak again.

“So how has your day been? We have just talked about my day so far.” Somehow that sentence just made you feel even more selfish than before.

“Well, you didn’t tell me anything specific, to be honest. So, I wouldn’t count that as .”

You would have punched him if there hadn’t been a distance of more than just a few miles between you and if he hadn’t sounded that cute while talking. “I told you that I’m painting.” You bit your lip, not wanting to tell him what exactly you had talked about with (Y/F) during your lunch break. There was absolutely no need to talk with him about something so embarrassing. And wouldn’t he feel awkward, too?

“Tell me about your day, please?” It was not meant to be a distraction, you were truly interested in his days. Perhaps one of the reasons was that in his life just basically happened more than in your plain and boring one. And of course, you cared. The first time you had talked on the phone, you had forgotten to ask him how he was and had felt tremendously guilty afterwards. And worried, too.

“Luke and I started planning the coming weeks, I read through a few scripts. Nothing astonishingly new.” You could swear you heard him sigh in…exhaustion? You had never heard such a strained exhale coming from him.

“What’s wrong? You seem a bit off?”

“Nothing is wrong. Thank you, darling, for worrying.” He was smiling, you could hear that. It eased a bit of the sudden concern that you had been overcome with.

“Uhm… but if you really want to know…” He laughed his sweet and unique laugh with a slight hint of bashfulness in his tone. “There is something I want to ask you.”

Something he wanted to ask you, your brain repeated. That could be basically everything. Something bad as well as something good. Perhaps he had rethought his decision to have given you his number. Or worse, he didn’t want to talk to you anymore.

“I’m around (Y/C) at the moment and thought we could catch up on our dinner. That is, only if you want to, of course.”

You nearly messed up your painting, completely shocked and startled, not even able to answer him.

“Darling? Are you okay?” Did he really ask you that? After he had just told you that he was probably in your city, as if it was nothing?

“Why didn’t you tell me that you’re already here?” The sound of your voice was close to that of your squeaky toy and instantly you felt yourself flush all over.

“I’m…” He seemed to be speechless for a brief instant. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. It was supposed to be a surprise. I should have told you. I’m so sorry.”

The moment he said that, you felt a pang of guilt in your chest. “No I didn’t mean to – I was just surprised to hear that you’re here.” You hurried to say , the painting in front of you forgotten for a moment. Before you picked up your phone to press it against your ear, you wiped the paint off, using your pants for that. Maybe that hadn’t been a wise choice, but there hadn’t been anything else in reach at that moment. Now there were black and purple stripes all over your thighs.

“It’s been quite spontaneous. I didn’t want to get you involved if they hadn’t wanted to shoot the scenes here.”

How sweet of him, you thought abashed. “What are you shooting for?”

There was a short, but amused, laugh on the other side of the line. “I can’t possibly tell you that.”

As you sighed disappointed, Tom chuckled softly. “What about our dinner now, darling? You didn’t answer my question. We could finally see each other again, plus I could make up for having kept you waiting for so long.”

For the umpteenth time that evening, you could feel the heat rush into your cheeks and spread all the way to your ears.

“So, what do you say?” His tender voice startled you out of the sort of trance you had been in for a few seconds. “We could go out tomorrow. Of course, that’s really at short notice, I know. It’s completely okay, therefore, when you don’t want to see me tomorrow.” He rambled a bit, but that couldn’t possibly annoy you when he was just being adorable. He could ramble on for hours and you would still hang on his lips, hungry for every word that left them. Everything on and about that man was so breathtakingly beautiful. “I’m terribly sorry. Did I upset you?”

“No, you didn’t. You just… caught me off guard.” Being honest about your feelings seemed so much easier when you were talking to Tom. “And yes, of course. I’d love…” You had to pause to gather yourself. “I’d love to go out with you tomorrow.”

“You’re lovely. Thank you.”

The following short moment of silence, you used to put the phone down and recollect yourself enough to start painting again.

“I saw an Italian restaurant yesterday. What do you think?”

“Oh my god I love pasta!” Your joyous cheer was rewarded with his typical and oh so sweet laughter.

“I guess that was a yes then?”

“Yes, it is! When are you done shooting tomorrow?”

“At five. I would suggest you give me your address and I pick you up at seven?” There was definitely a hint of mischief in his voice that hadn’t been there before.

“Yes, that’s a good time.” You gave him your address, waited patiently for him to scribble it down and told him to use google maps or another navigation system, because there was literally no reasonable street system in (Y/C). Tom and you talked for the rest of the evening, covering a lot of serious and a lot of absolutely silly topics, but you laughed a lot, enjoying the deep rumble of his voice when he joined in.

The next day went by too quickly. You had had barely time to think about the coming evening until you stood in front of your apartment, unlocking the door and dropping your bag and jacket to the floor to rush straight into the bathroom. The shower came first, then the make-up – you went for eyeliner and mascara, that should be enough – and after you had finished all of that plus your hair, you stood in front of your closet and were faced with the next problem. What should you wear? What were you supposed to wear on your first date? You rummaged through your wardrobe, pulled out three dresses and tried them on. Of course, you could easily go with trousers and a nice blouse, but you felt more drawn to wearing a dress.

In the end, you chose the dark blue one with long sleeves and a wide skirt that just reached your knees. It didn’t look fancy, but it wasn’t boring at all. In fact, It was quite elegant and playful at once. That was, why you liked it that much.

You quickly dressed up and hurried into your living room. Half an hour and Tom would arrive to pick you up. Only 30 minutes until you would finally see him again.

The painting you had finished the previous day, during Tom’s and your nearly four hours long telephone call, lay on the table where you had left it. You knew exactly what you were going to do with it. Especially, after you had realized that the human face, that you had wanted to draw, had turned out to be that of Tom. A face painted with rough strokes, your fingers and only three colours: black, grey and purple. You had varied the shades of each colour, but all in all it was pretty colourless.

Carefully, you placed the painting in an envelope, so it couldn’t (hopefully) be damaged, and put it into your small handbag, not wanting to give it to Tom immediately. After all, you had worked for a few weeks on that.

You sat down and thumbed through a magazine, while you were still waiting. Too nervous to focus on anything, let alone read an article or do something effectively.

When the doorbell rang, you took a deep breath, flattened the skirt of your dress and stood up. But before you went to open the door, you hastily stuffed your little squeaky toy into your handbag. Now you were ready.

Perhaps you opened way too fast, or maybe you were just clumsy, but you found yourself in Tom’s arms, after you had stumbled and tripped over your own feet. His warm, strong arms were tightly wrapped around you, holding you close to his chest.

God, he smelled so good.

“Actually, I wanted to compliment you because you’re looking absolutely ravishing, but that’s okay too.”

You blushed and hid your face on his chest.
Oh no. What had you just done?