A Collection of Odds & Ends

On the Rocks - Pt 5 (Tom Hardy)

Part Five

"Yes, I know." You hear Tom's voice, as you hang back in the short hall way, hoping not to be spotted eavesdropping. He frowns and rubs his hand across the back of his neck. "I only called, love, to make sure you two were okay..." he pauses. "I know how you don't like storms and I wanted to make sure." He nods and chuckles. "Okay, good night, then."

Standing in the kitchen, he sets his phone down on the counter, leaning forward onto the smooth surface. You hesitate a moment before surging forward, making sure to accidentally clip the end of the wall with your hand.

Straightening his posture, Tom smiles when he sees you. "Evening, lovely. I thought you'd gone to bed."

"Uh, yeah, I was up looking to get a drink of water." You lie.

You had gone to bed about three hours ago, but the moment it had began to storm, you woke up. You'd spent the last half hour in bed, curled into the fetal position, trying not to let Tom hear your sobs from the hiding spot under your comforter. When you had heard his voice, you had jumped out of bed like a cat avoiding the bath and made a run for it.

Storms are not your forte.

Carefully taking a glass from the cupboard, you whimper and close your eyes tightly as a flash of lightening lights up the room, before you hear the tell tale buzzing, a sign that your flat has lost power. Holding onto the glass so tightly, you fear it may explode in your hand, you stand frozen on the spot beside the sink.

You whimper again, when a clap of thunder shakes the outside world and your usual cool confidence. The one thing that can turn you into a blubbering mess, in seconds, is a storm. Ever since childhood, you've hated them.

"It's okay, I'm right here."

You inhale sharply when a pair of hands come to rest on your shoulders. You had almost forgot about Tom, in your moment of terror. "Give me the glass, lovely. Let's go to bed, yeah?"

Nodding you allow him to take the glass, a hand still on your shoulder. Using the light of his phone, Tom carefully guides you back to your bedroom and closes the door part way behind you. The thick blinds are already drawn, helping to cut some of the lightening from making too much of an impact.

Once you are safe in your blanket haven, Tom peeks out the window. "Whole street is out." You can hear the frown in his tone. "I guess we're just gonna have to wait."

"Tom." Your voice is small. You shift under the blankets, daring to peek out over them. "Tom!" You speak louder, unsure of why.

"Yes, lovely?" He turns to face you, smiling at the sight of you curled up in bed with the blankets drawn up to your chin.

"Will you..." You swallow a yelp at another rumble of thunder. "Will you stay in here?"

"Uh," Tom stands awkwardly at the end of your bed. "Yeah. Yeah, I can." he nods, you can make out his shape in the dark. Glancing to the side of your room, he moves toward the small sitting chair that you keep. It rarely gets sat on, mostly it holds your junk and various items of clothing.

"No." You correct him, before he has the chance to put his ass in the chair. "Here." You move to stick an arm out of the safe spot, pointing to the bed.

In bed with you, Tom stretches out his legs and fights back a yawn. You realize you hadn't bothered to ask him if he had been in bed or not? Outside the window you can hear the rain, pelting against the glass, trying to get inside with you. Shakily taking a breath, you stiffen when another bolt of lightening crackles in the air.