Art Imitates Life

Chapter 8

When Tom woke up, he felt a steady warmth wrapped around him, and for a moment, he thought he was still dreaming. He blinked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he slowly became aware of where he was—cuddled up against a sleeping, shirtless Chris. Tom's breath caught in his throat. Chris's arm was draped protectively around him, his chest rising and falling with each soft breath.

Tom barely dared to move, not wanting to wake him, but his mind was spinning. The last few months had been a surreal whirlwind. He'd gone from quietly working in his art studio in London to showcasing his work internationally, all with Chris Hemsworth by his side, supporting him in ways he'd never imagined. It was the kind of thing he'd read about but never thought he'd experience. And now, here he was, wrapped up in Chris's arms, feeling a mixture of awe, disbelief, and something even deeper that he couldn't quite name.

He couldn't stop himself from glancing at Chris's peaceful face, admiring the relaxed lines and soft expression he rarely showed anyone else. And though he felt a flush creeping up his cheeks, he stayed still, savoring the moment.

But Chris stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he woke to find Tom beside him. He stretched, his arm tightening around Tom for a moment before his eyes focused, and a lazy grin spread across his face. "Morning, Tom," he murmured, voice husky with sleep.

Tom's heart raced, but he managed a shy smile. "Morning."

Chris chuckled, his gaze softening. "I've got the whole day off, and I thought we could make the most of it before I start filming. How does a day exploring the city sound?"

Tom's face lit up, his excitement bubbling over. "That sounds amazing."

"Perfect," Chris replied, throwing back the covers and pulling himself out of bed. "We'll start with a morning swim. Get your swimsuit."

By the time they made it down to the resort's pool, the early sun was casting a warm glow over the water. The place was quiet, and they had it mostly to themselves. Tom jumped in, the cool water refreshing, while Chris followed, swimming effortlessly beside him. They spent a good hour laughing, challenging each other to races, and playfully splashing each other. Tom felt completely at ease, all his worries melting away with each laugh.

After their swim, they changed and made their way to breakfast, choosing a table on the terrace with a view of the city below. Over plates of fresh fruit, pastries, and rich coffee, they talked about everything from Tom's art expo schedule to Chris's upcoming movie. The casual intimacy of it all made Tom's heart ache in the best way.

Later, they explored an art museum that had been on Tom's list for months. As they wandered through the galleries, Chris asked thoughtful questions, genuinely interested in Tom's perspective on each piece. Tom couldn't help but feel a sense of pride—having Chris by his side as he shared his passion for art made everything feel even more special.

Afterward, they made their way to a nearby mall. The place was packed, but Chris slipped on a pair of sunglasses and a hat, managing to keep his presence relatively low-key. They wandered through stores, and every time Tom paused to admire something, Chris would insist on buying it.

"Chris, you really don't have to—" Tom started, only for Chris to wave him off with a grin.

"Consider it part of the adventure. Besides, I'm having fun."

Tom gave in, trying on jackets, shoes, and even a watch that Chris insisted would look perfect on him. But just as they were about to leave, a group of fans recognized Chris. Tom's heart skipped as people started to gather, asking for photos and autographs. Chris handled it with his usual easy charm, but as the crowd grew, it became harder to move.

Chris gave Tom a nod, taking his hand to guide him through the throng of people, politely but firmly saying his goodbyes to the fans as they headed toward the exit. They finally made it out, laughing breathlessly as they stepped back into the quieter streets.

"Well, that escalated quickly," Tom joked, catching his breath.

Chris laughed, glancing down at their clasped hands before reluctantly letting go. "Guess that's the price of fame," he said, giving him a rueful smile. "But I'm glad you were there to help me make an escape."

They headed back to the hotel, and as they reached the elevator, Chris turned to Tom, his gaze holding a mischievous glint. "Meet me on the rooftop at 8 p.m. Dress nice. I've got a surprise planned."

Tom's curiosity was piqued, but he didn't press. He nodded, feeling excitement bubbling up again as they parted ways to get ready.

By the time he reached the rooftop at sunset, Tom was dressed in a dark suit that Chris had insisted on buying him that morning, the soft evening breeze ruffling his hair. He was greeted by an even bigger surprise than he'd imagined—a helicopter waiting for him and Chris, its blades softly whirring in the golden light.

Chris grinned, clearly delighted by Tom's reaction. "Thought you'd like a bit of a view," he said, taking Tom's hand to help him into the helicopter.

They soared above the city, taking in the incredible view as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the skyline in shades of pink and gold. Tom felt a thrill as they landed on the rooftop of the tallest building in the city, where a table had been set up for them, candles flickering in the evening breeze.

Dinner was exquisite, each course more delicious than the last, and they talked and laughed as the city lights glittered below them. Tom found himself watching Chris between bites, his heart swelling as he realized just how much he meant to him.

As the evening wound down, Tom took a small, wrapped canvas from his bag and handed it to Chris, his voice a little shaky. "I wanted you to have this... to say thank you. For everything."

Chris unwrapped the painting, his eyes widening as he took in the abstract blend of colors, each brushstroke carrying the emotions Tom had felt since the beginning of their friendship. "Tom... this is beautiful," Chris said, his voice soft. "Thank you."

They lingered there, letting the moment stretch between them. But as they made their way back to the hotel, Tom felt a pang of sadness at the thought of saying goodnight. He wasn't quite ready for the night to end, not when everything felt so perfect.

As they reached Tom's door, Chris hesitated, glancing down the hall before looking back at him. "Would you, uh... would you mind staying in my room tonight? It's just... nice having you close."

Tom's heart skipped, but he nodded, his smile widening. "I'd like that."

They made their way to Chris's suite, and as they settled onto the bed, Tom found himself drifting closer, the warmth of Chris's presence filling every inch of his mind. Chris wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close, and Tom rested his head on Chris's chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

They lay there in silence, the closeness between them growing, until Tom tilted his head up, finding Chris's gaze already on him. There was something unspoken in Chris's eyes, a tenderness that made Tom's breath catch. He felt Chris's hand reach up, gently tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, and their faces were so close he could feel the warmth of Chris's breath.

Time seemed to slow, and for a moment, Tom was sure Chris was going to kiss him. But before either of them could move, a soft drowsiness settled over him, and his eyes fluttered shut, the long day catching up to him. Chris seemed to hesitate, but then, with a gentle smile, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Tom's forehead.

"Goodnight, Tom," he murmured, his voice a whisper.

As Tom drifted off, nestled in the warmth of Chris's embrace, he felt a sense of peace he'd never known, a quiet joy that lingered even as he slipped into sleep, content in the knowledge that, for now, this moment was theirs alone.