To Let Love Destroy Us: A Tom Hiddleston Fanfic

8

"Michael is a very mysterious person. He's a bit of a recluse. His being alone doesn't really help his sobriety, but all he had was his wife. Her family stopped talking to him, his mother can't even look at him. He just feels like a disappointment." Tom explains to me. We sat on the couch in close proximity to each other reading my script. Well, I was reading my script. He was trying to give me backstories so I can understand the characters better. "Cameron is depressed. She's a perfect example of having it all and still not quite feeling complete. Her identity is something that was never her own."

Tom's long index finger reaches out and points at her name on the paper. The setting for this one was the AA meeting. It was when Cameron and Michael first meet. "She harbors a lot of anger and pain because of this. After the last time she tried to..." Tom glanced up at me "you know, she stopped trying to hide it. She's vulnerable from the get-go. There are no tears. Just cold, dead tones and harshness." I nod my head, as he spoke, trying my hardest to listen to his words and not his voice.

I pull my legs in closer to me, my knees now resting against his large thighs. It was insane how big they were. It was almost like he hit a few hundred squats a day. I glance down at my own thighs and try to compare them. I should do more squats. "Michael and Cameron's first encounter is this scene. It's her first time going to these meetings and he's been going for quite some time now." My eyes wander up to his face while he talks. He wasn't paying me any mind so it was the perfect time to finally look at him. I mean really look at him for the first time.

Tom was quite the handsome guy. The wrinkles in the corners of his eyes help accentuate the happiness he constantly radiates. They showed age, but also helped make him look so youthful. His eyebrows were thick and unkempt but worked out perfectly for him. They were dead giveaways to his exact feelings; they showed whether or not he was happy or sad and when he was in deep thought, they would perfectly push together. He also had quite a side profile. How could someone be so perf—

The blue-eyed man glanced up at me, but had to do a double-take when he saw me staring. I looked away quickly, laughing softly to myself about getting caught. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay." He informs me. I glance up once more only to find his eyes still lingering on me. I turn my head almost immediately. Nope, can't do this staring thing with him. Not while he's this close. "I'd love to take you out to dinner." He says suddenly. "If that's okay."

I purse my lips at the thought of him taking me out. Tom's ocean blue eyes flicker down to my lips, but only for a second. "Don't take offense to this when I say it, but I don't want to be seen with you in public," I confess with a small smile.

He looks away, his large hand shooting to his chest. "I don't know, I might be hurt just a little bit." He jokes. "I'm completely fine with keeping this between us. In case you've not noticed, I'm a pretty private person."

I shoot up straight suddenly, faking shock on my face. "Get out." He lifts his hands, a smile on his face.

"It's true."

I lean back into the couch again, my arm now propped up to allow my hand to hold my head. "I would've never known," I say with a wide smile.

"Yeah, well, it's not exactly public information." He replies, making me laugh. Tom's small chuckle could be heard beneath my own. When the laughing settled, we sat in silence. I absolutely hate silences. They make me anxious and leave room for a wandering mind to start racing. But this silence seemed different. It was a comfortable silence, one I haven't experienced in a long time. Neither of us felt the need to speak up and break it, we were simply in the moment. Enjoying it.

I reach over and pluck the script from his hands, gaining his attention back. "But in all seriousness, Keira," His voice was heavy for no reason, it made my heart race. Why speak so low when it was just us here? Why make me nervous at the sound of your voice? Damn you, Tom. "I'd love to take you to a dinner." He repeats.