Tom is patient, but not in a way that helps you focus. He stands there on set, lines memorized, hair just slightly mussed like he walked out of a photoshoot, and smiles at you like he’s got nowhere else to be. You, on the other hand, have forgotten the same sentence three times now (he’s just that handsome).

“That’s the third take” the director calls, trying to be patient, but it’s clear he’s getting a bit annoyed.

You open your mouth to apologize, but Tom’s already waving it off. “It’s fine” he says, eyes still on you.

“We can run it again. Unless I’m making you nervous.” He’s teasing, gentle, and warm. Like he knows. Like he’s been waiting for you to notice the shift too.

He steps back into his mark, but not before glancing at you again, voice low and amused:

“Maybe fourth time’s the charm. Ready when you are.”