My Favorite Souvenir

I wandered around London, my face glued to the map in front of me. There were so many places to go and so little time. Unfortunately, my time was slowly dwindling down by the second. I was lost, in some park that I couldn't seem to get out of. It was huge and half of the people there didn't understand a word of English and those who did ignored me. So I decided that one way or another, I was going to get myself out.

When I stopped for a minute to look around, someone collided into me, pushing me to the ground. The guy fell on top of me, but quickly stood up and screamed out an apology then ran to catch up to his friends. I muttered curse words as I got to my knees, then started filling my purse up with the contents that spilled out.

I reached for my phone and map but someone else's hands got to them first.

"Bloody teenagers." Someone said in their thick England accent as they held out their free hand towards me. I grabbed on and pulled myself up.

"Thanks," I said, dusting myself off. I finally looked up to meet the strangers eyes, his handsome ocean blue eyes. I felt myself blush as he smiled at me.

"No problem," He held out his hands, "Here's your phone. But it looks like your map's ripped right down the middle." He surveyed the damaged piece of paper.

"Didn't do my any good anyway." I whispered, shyly taking back my phone as he crumpled up the piece of paper.

"True. These maps don't do shit for anyone." He laughed, "You're pretty lost, yeah? I've seen you walk in circles for the past five minutes."

"And you didn't bother telling me?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"Well, I thought you'd find your way out eventually. I guess you falling was my best excuse to finally help you out."

His smirk was just..perfect.

"I'm not one of those people." I informed him.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't really think. I just do."

"Ahh," He nodded his head, "So you didn't think about coming here. You just did it because you found it."

"Exactly!"

He laughed, "Well, where are you trying to go?"

"I'm trying to find 'The Photographer's gallery'. Do you have any idea where the is?"

"That, my friend, is towards the west gate which is over there." I gave him a look and he chuckled, "I'll just come with you then."

"No, that's fine. Really, I'll do my best to find it-"

"I'm not doing anything. It would be my pleasure." He smiled down at me.

I followed him towards the gate and at first we walked in complete silence. Then, he said,

"My name is Tom, by the way. Tom Felton. And you are?"

"Aubrey Hastings."

"It's nice to meet you." He took his hand from his pocket and held it out.

I shook it and smiled, grateful.



"So you're a cosmetologist?" He asked, kicking a pebble as we rounded another sidewalk.

"I want to be one. I'm going to school for it in a couple of months."

"Here in London?"

"Oh God no. Back in New York City. I'm just here for a vacation to get away from it all."

"How long?"

"Couple of months. I want to tour around England."

"And you haven't booked a tour guide?"

"I hate those. You never have time to see the nice things. They rush you."

He nodded his head, agreeing.

"Have you ever been to the states?"

He blew out air between his lips, "Once or twice. My parents don't like to travel far. And I've never thought about going there alone." He shrugged. "Anyway, we're here."

I looked forward and saw a long flight of stairs then the big doors towards the gallery.

"That was a pretty long walk."

"I took the long way." He smirked.

"Why?"

He glanced at me, then back at the gallery, "No reason. Let's go, shall we?"

He took a step up and I paused, "You're going too?"

"I walked all this way, why wouldn't I?"

"Don't you have things to do?"

"Not at all."



He showed me around the gallery. He had been to this place so many times he knew every painting. Half the time I wasn't even paying attention, I was too busy staring at him. He was just perfect. His accent, his hair, and oh god his eyes. Those things could pierce through you like a bullet.

"Are you bored yet?" He whispered as we past a group of people.

"Would it be bad if I said yes?"

He laughed, "Not at all. I'm not one for museum's either."

"There's something about them that seems so nice and peaceful but they're really just too quiet and boring."

"I can take you somewhere fun." He offered, raising his eyebrows.

"I'm not sure if I trust you." I joked.

He pretended to take offense, "What? You think I'm going to take you into a dark alley and rape you?" He paused, rethinking what he just said, "Wait-that is what someone would say if they were going to do that. Never mind."

"Then where are you going to take me?"

"Have you been to The London Eye yet?" When I shook my head, he smiled and said, "Then c'mon,"



His lips were on my neck the second we entered his apartment. I was pushed up against the door, his hands squeezing my waist. I pulled on his hair making his face level with mine and pushed my lips against his. His hands slipped underneath my butt and pulled me onto his hips. He carried me into the kitchen and set me down on the counter, his lips never leaving mine.

"I should go," I whispered against his mouth.

He shook his head, "It's late, you won't find a cab."

"I'll call one," I groaned as his lips assaulted my chest.

He pulled away a beat later, unbuttoning his jeans and pulled them down along with his boxers. He pushed my dress up towards my hips and took off my panties. "I'm not letting you go anywhere," He whispered huskily as we collapsed into eachother.