Waiting (Thomas) 💜

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I had gotten out of the shower and was racing to get dressed. I'd taken too long, I knew. I slipped on my dress and then took another hour to do my hair. Only because it was wet- I had to dry it. Then I did my make up which took my like five minutes, as usual. I reviewed my list and made sure I was ready. Good.

I creeped out to see the damage. Thomas had been waiting for me this whole time.

He was sitting in a chair, all ready to go, one leg crossed over the other, his lap open as his knee of the crossing foot rested almost next to him. That flexible son of a bitch. His hand rested in his lap as his other hand sat under his chin, his long fingers slightly covering his mouth. His irritated eyes stared at the clock and his foot in the air bounced.

"Hello, Dear," I said carefully. He looked at me like he was going to make some snide remark about me being late, but then froze, his eyes wide, and stared at me. I looked down. "Wh-what? Did I do something wrong?" I felt self conscious, groaning softly. "I knew this dress was too-"

"You're absolutely gorgeous," he interrupted softly, awed.

I blushed and looked back up at him. "Oh."

He stood, his irritation gone as his patience - albeit thinning just seconds before - finally paid off. "Shall we go, dear?" He asked, teasing me. I rolled my eyes and smiled. He offered me his arm and I took it, stepping into his side. This boy. This pretty boy with his gorgeous smile and his sincere compliments that hit me to my core. He waited for me, never checking in or nagging on me or pushing even though he might have been antsy to leave. Geez I really was in love with him.

"Yes," I mused. "We shall." And we did.

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