#emmaewatson

Having a roommate was great. Being able to split rent, power, and internet bills. Buying food and cooking together, having someone’s shoulder to cry on or binge a whole Netflix series in one day. At least, that’s what it was like living with Harrison.

He was the easiest person you’d ever lived with. Funny, sweet, caring, clean. There was just one problem. His best mate Tom. You’d never met someone so cocky, so unabashedly full of themselves. It was hard to not roll your eyes every time he spoke. But Harrison loved him, for some unknown reason, so you dealt with it, biting your tongue as best you could. But that didn’t mean you didn’t call him out on his bullshit. No Harrison knew, Tom knew, at this point you’re pretty sure the world knew, you hated Tom.

So when there’s a knock on your door on a Saturday evening and Harrison isn’t home, you steel yourself. Getting up off the couch and looking through the peephole.

You open your door and sigh, “Haz isn’t here.”

Tom looks at you, narrowing his eyes a little bit and then pushes in past you. “Yeah I know, but he’ll be here soon.”

“I didn’t exactly invite you in.”

“What? Am I supposed to just wait out in the cold? I said he’ll be here soon, don’t get your panties in a twist.” He smirks as he says it, gaze locked on you

“My panties are definitely not in a twist, thanks.” You clench your jaw, closing the door and moving to settle back on your spot on the couch. Tom joins you, leaning back, kicking his legs up so that his feet brush against your thigh. You suddenly wish you weren’t wearing shorts.

You roll your eyes and push his leg away. “Just can’t stop yourself from touching me, can you?”

You mouth drops open as you look at him, that trademark smirk on his lips. You snap your mouth close and rub your lips together, turning back to the tv. He wants a reaction from you, he always does.

He fidgets in his seat, moving around to situate himself closer to you, “Why do you hate me?” He asks, sounding genuinely curious.

“You’re cocky, annoying, rude, loud. Do you need me to continue?”

“I’m not cocky, I’m confident, and you find that annoying. I’m rude because you’re rude first. And I’m not as loud as you think I am, you’re just sensitive.”

You squeeze your eyes closed, hating the feeling of him getting under your skin. He backs off suddenly, leaning against the couch to give you more space. “I’m not trying to make you hate me, I just get defensive. And I’m trying to figure out why you hated me from the moment you met me. You didn’t even give me a chance.”

You head snaps in his direction, “Do you not remember what you said to me the first time we met?”

He shrugs but he bites at his bottom lip, looking nervous all of a sudden. Good.

You continue on, “Do yourself a favor and stop talking so I can kiss you? That impression was enough for me to know exactly the kind of guy you are.”

He picks at his fingernails, avoiding your piercing gaze. “I thought that was something you’d want to hear.”

You sputter, narrowing your eyes at him, “Why would I want to hear that? Is that a line you’d used on other girls? Did it actually fucking work for you? You didn’t even know me.”

“Harrison –” he stops, sighing, “Harrison told me about you before we met. He thought we’d maybe we’d hit it off. He showed me a picture of you and I thought you were cute, really cute. He told me about your ex-boyfriend, what he was like and,” He scrubs at his face, “He made it sound like you liked when guys were assertive like that, kind of a dick. So I was trying to –”

“You were trying to be my ex…?”

Tom’s shoulders slump as he finally looks up at you, “Well when you say it like that it sounds really fucking stupid.”

“It was really fucking stupid!”

You settle into silence. You can feel his gaze on you every now and then but you’re too busy trying to drown the butterflies that have erupted in your stomach. All of this had started because he was trying to get you to like him. He thought you were cute? You suddenly feel the urge to check to make sure the sky is still blue because everything you thought you knew has turned into some illusion, all smoke and mirrors.

“What – what would you have said to me if you hadn’t known about my ex?”

Tom’s face softens, clearly not expecting that question. “Oh, uh – I guess I probably would have just tried to talk to you. Tell you how pretty your eyes are. Or about how much I love when your nose scrunches up when you laugh. How hard it is for me to not laugh at your jokes because you’re really funny.  Maybe I could have taken you out to that Italian place you love so much, or brought you those red velvet cupcakes that you always get...”

He looks up at you for a second before dropping his gaze, focusing back on his hands but he’s still talking, still going through a list of things he’s noticed about you, things he loves about you, some things you were sure no one had ever noticed about you before.

He finally stops talking when you lean and kiss his cheek. A blush settles at the apple of his cheeks quickly and he looks at you as pull back, eyes wide.

“Why don’t we start over?” you ask. Smiling softy, you extend your hand, “Nice to meet you Tom.”