Run To Me

Real...

"Oh Tom, this is beautiful!" she stood in the hall and looked around. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but this was just so much more. The walls were plain, the palest grey, the floor was black and white tiles and the light that illuminated them was brass and glass. All very stark, very minimalist - until you looked at the walls. A riot of mismatched art and illustrations from every genre you could think of. Classical oils to comic book covers, all jostled for space.

"I'm so glad you like it love, hopefully you'll be spending a lot more time here." he turned and smiled at her, obviously proud of the home he'd created. "go on through while I grab some things ok?"

She walked into the living room and somehow she knew this 'was' Tom. Comfortable sofas, lots of lamps illuminating little spots in the room. Cosy chairs with throws and side tables piled with books. Books dominated one wall, floor to ceiling. Again, a reflection of his eclectic taste. Naturally Shakespeare, but also Marlow, Pinter, modern poetry, spy novels and autobiographies.

On one shelf, a bundle of comics - she didn't need to look too hard to know which ones - and on another, a mismatched collection of photo frames containing a record of Tom's life. From family pictures of him as a curly haired, toothy youngster to stills from stage productions before he hit 'the big time'. If anyone wanted to see the moments he was proud of, this was it. One photo sat front and centre, showing what he really thought was the centre of his world. His family. She smiled and picked it up carefully.

Tom was young, maybe late teens. Obviously handsome, even then, his arms were ironically outstretched, just like a certain Norse God. This time however, he wasn't announcing his entrance, he was encircling those he held most dear. His mum and his sisters. All four beamed for the camera and you could see the love and devotion on his face. She smiled and a single tear plopped onto the glass.

Shocked by her own reaction, she hastily wiped it off and replaced the frame, turning to see Tom standing in the doorway holdall in hand, just smiling. She blushed furiously and looked away,

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be touching your stuff. I - I just - " she looked back up, "It's a beautiful photo Tom, so honest and genuine. You're so lucky." she felt another tear slip out and trail down her cheek. She wiped it away and smiled, "But enough of the maudlin talk. Let's go eh?"

Tom extended an arm and drew her to his side. "Oh Molls, my precious little kitten. I know I am so lucky. I am surrounded by people who love me. I truly know now what it is like to really love." he looked down at her softly.

"And to be loved in return" she answered, reaching up to touch his cheek. For a moment they just stood in the silent house, in their own little world. Then suddenly Tom stood upright, his face a panic.

"Shit! My passport!" he dropped the bag and dashed into the kitchen leaving her stunned and shaking her head. A moment or two later he returned, brandishing it like a trophy. "Phew, exactly where I left it.... in the breadbin." he smiled crazily and she burst out laughing.

"Thomas Hiddleston, I swear I will never understand you if I live to be a hundred!"

"Well that's good!" he crowed, "It means we've a long, LONG time to see just how good your detective work is then!" he grabbed her hand, "Come on Sherlock, lets go home."

He hailed a cab, leaving his own car in the garage he'd almost paid more than his house for, and they headed back to Molly's.

Walking into her little flat, she was suddenly struck by how different, yet similar their tastes were. Where he was all minimalism and clean lines, she was cosy fabrics and sumptuous textures. Where they were in step was a love of literature and a love of family. Hers, admittedly, smaller but no less loved. Pictures of James and Molly were dotted around the house, some in lovely frames, some just pinned to the fridge with magnets, all equally treasured.

Her favourite wasn't a formal one, it wasn't even one that she had taken. It was a silly photobooth strip they had done in an airport as they waited to go on one of their precious adventures together. Four moments in time, all equally silly, all a perfect representation of their lives together. The last of the four; the two of them arms around each other, faces beaming, 'bunny ear' fingers above the other's head.

Tom carefully put it back onto the fridge, he'd seen it over and over during the last few weeks but tonight, it seemed so much more relevant. He had an idea and filed it away for another day.

"Ah you're here!" she walked in and slipped her arms around his waist. "I wondered where you'd got to. I've put your bag away - there's a spare toothbrush in the cabinet. Don't worry, it's new! I'm not THAT bad." she giggled and smiled up at him. "I'd share many things with you, willingly, but I think a toothbrush is just ewwwww!" she scrunched her nose up and he thought she looked like a cute little... yes, a cute little kitten. He smiled and bent down, kissing her softly.

"Well, my little kitten, time for bed. We have a big day ahead tomorrow, the flight is at 9 so an early start I'm afraid." he moved away to walk into the living room as usual. The usual soft throw and cushions awaited him, he was thankful for her taste in the luxurious.

"Tom?" she paused and looked at him "Where are you going?"

"To sleep? Like normal people do love - I'm not REALLY a vampire you know!" he laughed gently.

"No, I mean, why are you going THAT way? The bedroom is this way..." she held out her hand and he bit his lip, trying to control himself. With a superhuman show of restraint, he walked back and took her hand. "You didn't seriously think I would ask you to stay and then banish you to the sofa did you? Oh Tom, you're just too cute sometimes." she smiled, her cheeks flushed and her eyes dark.

"Maybe I should stop being cute and start being...." he leaned down and crushed her lips with his. His tongue begged entrance to her mouth and she let him in instantly. Almost devouring her in his rising passion, he tasted every inch of her mouth, his hands cupping her face. Breaking off, panting and flushed, "that" he finished the sentence.

"Yes, more that, definitely more that" she breathed, her mind racing and her heart pounding. She could feel her body start to respond in ways she'd dreamed of and now, all she wanted was for him to show her it could be real. "more and now Tom, right now."

He didn't speak, he just scooped her into his arms and walked into the bedroom.