A Collection of Odds & Ends

On the Rocks - Pt 4 (Tom Hardy)

Part Four

"Why are you in my bed?" You dropped your bag onto the bedroom floor and narrow your gaze at the man stretched out in the middle of your bed.

"Sorry." Tom apologizes, making no attempt to move. "I really needed a nap and you weren't here..."

"I suppose that's fair." You shrugged it off, ditching your shoes and jacket. "Nice, isn't it?" You ask, climbing onto your bed and stretching out. Folding your arms behind your head, you glanced at Tom. When you'd bought the bed, you had spared no expense for comfort.

"Much better than the couch." Tom smiled.

"Mmm." You hummed softly. "So, how long have you been sneaking naps in my bed?"

Tom laughed softly and folded his hands behind his head, matching you. "Few weeks." his lips turned into a small grin. "I should have told you, but I didn't know how creepy you'd find it."

You hadn't found it creepy, or weird, or anything of the sort. You could fully understand why Tom would want to sleep in your bed, when you weren't using it. He had been on the couch for almost three months, while it was comfortable enough, after time you knew it wasn't that grand of a sleeping arrangement.

Tom never complained, he had told you he never felt reason to.

If you were in his shoes, all you would do is complain. More than likely, you would have packed about the second week, moved into a hotel and never looked back at your tiny place.

How long Tom had been invading your bed, while you were out, was still a bit of a mystery, although it continued regularly. You'd arrived home from work a few evenings the week after to find Tom sleeping soundly, curled up among your thick blankets and soft pillows. He had been working non-stop lately and you never had the heart to wake him from his naps.

When you'd found him, you would grab a few things from your room and retreat to the kitchen, one evening you had done the unthinkable and even ventured out for a run. When hearing that, Tom had laughed so hard, you were sure he would piss his pants. You hated running. Unless for survival reasons, you never broke out into a pace faster than a light speed walk.

Doing unthinkable things seemed to be a pattern you had fallen into, upon Tom's arrival in your home.

Not only had you willingly ran, but you were getting a little more relaxed about his kids showing up every now and then.

The first afternoon it had taken place, the dreadful rained out Tuesday, you had made an excuse to spend the entire three hours in your bedroom. You claimed you were doing some much needed cleaning, but had spent the time curled up in bed watching a documentary that outlined the migration of Canadian Geese.

Boring as hell.

As terrible as that had been, it was nothing in comparison to the Thursday that Tom had left you in charge. It was only for ten minutes, while he locked himself in the bedroom on a very important phone call. You were almost certain his divorce lawyer could wait, but apparently she was a busy lady.

You wanted to strangle Tom.

Sitting awkwardly at the kitchen counter, you tried to avoid the gaze of the little boy sitting on the couch. Glancing out of the corner of you eye, you could see that he had left his post. A gasp of shock rose, and your hand flew to your chest when you noticed he was now standing beside you.

Nothing made you feel more uncomfortable than a child being so close.

"Hello." He spoke, his eyes gazing up at you.