Tom Hiddleston Oneshots

Insomnia

Lying on his bed with his arms tucked underneath his head, Tom stared blankly up at his speckled ceiling, willing for sleep to envelop his senses. His eyes landed on the winter chilled walls of his bedroom as passing cars from the street below forced shadows to dance across the painted surface. 

He wandered how many people in his quiet neighbourhood was just like him, alone and sleepless. Sighing, he rolled onto his side and circled the wall with the edge of his index finger, bored. Tom didn't feel tired. But he didn't feel as energetic as he was during the day. He was stuck in a painfully exhausting world between being awake and being asleep.

The low sound of heavy furniture dragging across the floors from the apartment above made his ears perk up to the unusual sound. It was nearly midnight! Who in the right mind would bare to redecorate at times like these?

Tom buried his head underneath his pillow when the sounds continued, growing longer and louder as the person responsible from upstairs continued their relentless torture. At odd moments like these, he was surprised he found sleep.

Tom woke up to the bright sun shining through his blinds. Today was a new day, he thought to himself as he went along with his normal routine. He took a warm shower, brushed his teeth and wore a wool jumper his sister had purchased for him when she went to Rome last spring.

Tom didn't like the maroon color much but thought it would hurt his sister's feelings if he were to decline and not wear it. Sighing, he grabbed an apple from the fruit basket he left on his kitchen countertop and locked his front door as he left his small flat. Taking the steps two at a time, Tom flashed a bright smile at Marty, the apartment security guard as he made his way down.

"Good morning, Marty." Tom hummed, pausing for conversation.

Marty, a man well of his age, stood up from his creaky chair and brought Tom into an awkward hug over his small table. "Good to see you, Tom. How was your night?"

"Horrible." The actor groaned, patting Marty's back when he finally let go. "Someone from upstairs was moving furniture in the middle of the night. I could barely sleep a wink."

Marty stared blankly at him, a tight smile on his face as his eyes glossed over. "What do you mean?"

"Someone a floor above mine was moving furniture around." Tom clarified, clearing his throat when Marty's expression didn't change.

"Tom, nobody has lived in the flat above yours since Mrs. Pedigrew passed away last winter. There's not even a chair in there. The room's cleared!" Marty gave a worried expression at Tom when it was now his turn to look dumbfounded.

Then who could it be?