Tom Hiddleston Oneshots.

No Resolution Except You

I walked down the hallway, my mind cluttered with thoughts that never seemed to go away. A burden of emptiness pressed on my chest like someone had roughly carved into the arteries of my lungs. There was the empty throatiness I always carried, but today it had threatened to burst even more than usual. I lugged everything into my mind -- the smallest inconsistencies of the day so far, the usual desperation, and the words my parents imprinted upon my brain. Of course, Tom knew none of this, except that I was prone to multiple mood swings for the seven months we had been together. As I ate a beaten tuna sandwich at work, even the sun had turned into thunderous rain halfway through the day. I reached the apartment door, and I did not know if Tom would be home, but I knew that if he dealt even the smallest bit of kindness to me, my eyes would immediately betray me. I sighed and turned the key in the lock, quickly pasting a smile on my face as I walked into the apartment we both shared.

"Tom, I'm home," I said quietly, in case he had not arrived home yet.

I put down my work bag and exhaled in shaky relief as no one responded. I went to sit on the couch, and as soon as I sunk into the pale cushions, it was like the ribbon tying the thoughts in my head ripped at the seams. My hands shook as I took my head in my hands and felt the tears rush down my face. I wiped my billowing tears on my shirt and I brought my knees up to the couch as I hugged them like a child. I rocked back and forth for a couple of minutes and then, almost magically, the ribbon in my head mended itself, allowing me to get up and move to the kitchen to make dinner. I dried my eyes as if I had never cried and I smoothed my linen pants. Billy Joel crooned in the background as I started gathering the pots and pans for my dish.

I was in the middle of chopping onions for the chili I decided to make when I felt two strong arms reach from behind me and embrace me. I could smell the scent of his musky cologne as he drew me closer to him.

"Hi," Tom's warm breath melted into my neck.

I did not want him to know I had been crying, but I couldn't resist pressing back into his chest, allowing him to hold me for a couple of seconds.

"Hi, Tom," I whispered back as he put a warm hand over mine, guiding them away from the kitchen knife.

"I'll take it from here darling, don't worry," he said, and let go of my arms as he tilted his body to face the kitchen counter and cut the onions.

"Okay, thanks," I said, easily avoiding his eyes as he trained them on the vegetables.

"Sure, do you know what other ingredients you need for this?"

There was a pause as he looked up at me. Almost immediately, I whipped my head to the side so he could not read my expression.

"Well, -" I began, as he gently pulled my arm closer towards him.

"Are you alright, darling?" he said, confusion seeping into his voice.

I nodded my head as I avoided looking into his eyes and harshly gripped my arm away from his grasp.

"Grab the meat and paprika powder, will you? I'm going to do something but I'll be back," I said as I briskly began to walk towards the living room. Before I could leave the kitchen, Tom rushed in front of me and put his hand on my shoulder.

"Love, look at me, are you okay?" he questioned, his bright blue eyes now peppered with concern.

"Yes," I smiled, but he grimaced in response.

"Yes, I said!" I exclaimed, annoyance creeping into my voice, still not looking at him. "Can you please let me fucking go get something. I already told you I am fine. Just make fucking dinner, Tom."