When I Met Tom (A Tom Hiddleston Fan Fiction)

Chapter Twenty Seven

Back at home, we had only just made it to the bedroom. Clothes were strewn across the floor from just inside the front door, throughout the living room and right up to the door of our room.

We lay in bed together, tangled up amongst the sheets and pillows, cuddling up closely.

‘I was thinking that you could do a bit of a showcase for the dance show.’ Tom said placing his hand on my hip through the covers.

‘I could, but I couldn’t do it by myself. I’d need help to organise something like that.’ I replied.

‘We could find you some dancers so you can put a little show together. Then invite people along who might want to attend it as a school, recruit teachers, and so on. What do you think?’

‘I think it’s a brilliant idea. But really, I couldn’t have done this without you. You’ve been amazing.’

‘What did I do?’

‘Are you serious? You did everything. You bought the studio, you set it all up. It was all you.’

‘That was nothing compared to the feeling you gave me watching you dance up there tonight.’

He pulled me in closer and kissed me deeply. I pulled back slightly to look into those sparkling eyes.

‘If it results in this every time then I’ll dance more often.’ I smiled.

‘I like the sound of that.’ Tom winked and laughed. ‘Although, you don’t have to dance to get this.’

I giggled and kissed him again.

*

Tom and I spent the rest of the evening in bed (we didn’t even eat the lasagne!) and most of the next day was spent there too. Tom made us an incredible breakfast that we ate in bed, but we then spent time with just goofing around and writing down a few ideas together for the possible dance showcase.

Just after midday Tom’s phone rang with an unknown number, which he ignored. But when it rang again three more times right after each other he eventually left the room to answer it while I carried on jotting things down in my notepad.

Eventually when he returned to the bedroom Tom looked as though he had seen a ghost. He had gone incredibly pale and the smile that graced his face before he left the room was non-existent.

‘Tom,’ I practically gasp, ‘Are you alright?’

He slowly moved over to the bed and sat down with me, placing the phone down on the bed in front of him, staring down at it. He didn’t answer my question.

‘Tom, what’s wrong?’

He still didn’t respond, so I shook his arm gently to bring him back and have a conversation.