What's Past is Prologue (A Tom Hiddleston Fanfiction)

Chapter Fourteen

It had been ten minutes since I hung-up with Ryan. We both agreed we should keep in touch (and actually keep in touch this time), and I gave him my phone number so he wouldn't have to contact me through an app I forgot was still installed on my phone. Since then, I got dressed and brushed my teeth with the toothbrush Tom had so thoughtfully provided after the moment of delusion in the bathroom.

Even wrapped up in the most magical bed on Earth, I wasn't able to turn of my brain. Over and over I kept replaying Ryan's words and conversations with Tom from the past few days, and I couldn't help but feel Ryan was onto something. Maybe Tom really did see me as more than just a friend. And that thought, in turn, scared the crap out of me.

It was only when I rolled onto my side, staring at the vacant pillow beside me, asking myself what, in this moment, do I want more than anything in the world? that the answer became clear:

Tom.

I wanted him laying next to me in bed. Not just that night, but every night. I wanted his face to be the one I saw when coming home from a long, stressful day at work, only for him to make it instantly better when he smiled. I wanted him to be the one to call me on downfalls, and help make me a better person. And I wanted to be the one to make his life better too. Because I... cared for him. Deeply. His laugh was infectious, his heart was open and welcoming to everyone, and his mind was full of a plethora of history and literature and observations on humankind. I wanted all of that. He challenged me to be the best version of myself. Always. And the best version of myself would get out of bed and go get what she wants.

So that's what I did.

Wearing only Tom's dark blue t-shirt and black shorts, my hair whirled into a messy bun on the nape of my neck, my face completely makeup-free, I'm sure I was a sight to see. For being a woman who expressed herself to the world through her outfits, this one said: I'm tired, I'm stressed, and — even though I'm wearing someone else's clothing — I am not putting on any costume. This is as me as anyone will ever see.

As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I could see the light in the kitchen was still on. Turning the corner, I saw Tom with his left side facing me, sitting on one of the barstools at the kitchen counter. He must've showered in the guest bathroom while I was on the phone with Ryan, because his hair was still damp and I could smell his body-wash from the doorway. He too was wearing a t-shirt and loose shorts, though his were white and navy, respectively. This was the Tom only a small percentage of the population was privy to, and I was somehow lucky enough to include myself in that number.

Tom laughed at something on his phone, shaking me from my thoughts, and quickly typed something out. He smiled down at the screen, lost in his own daydream. Bracing myself, I stepped into the kitchen.

"Hey," I said, softly.

He turned and smiled, as if everything that happened upstairs was completely forgotten on his end. "Hey," he said, "I didn't realize you were still awake. Is everything okay?"

Just do it, Ellie. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I just wanted to—"

His phone vibrated on the countertop. "Sorry, let me just..." He looked at the screen and smiled a brilliant smile. He tapped out a reply to whomever he was texting and then turned back to me. "Looks like you're not the only one back on the dating scene."

My heart dropped to my stomach and flipped over like a dead fish. "What?"

Tom didn't seem to notice my change of expression. That, or he didn't care. "I'm going on a date. Thursday."

"With who?"

"Elizabeth Olsen. I'm taking her to see The Elephant Man in the West End."

For risk of sounding like a petulant child, I didn't mention that I had been hoping to see the show with Tom myself. Instead, I went with "I didn't realize the two of you were that close."

"We did a whole film playing husband and wife." He looked me in the eye as he continued, "We spent a lot of late nights together."

I couldn't be sure if he meant to imply what they spent those late nights doing, but that's instantly where my mind went. "Oh," I said. "Well, have fun."

There was an awkward silence, and I couldn't remember the last time the two of us felt this uncomfortable, if there ever was a time.

Tom scratched the back of his neck and broke the silence. "Was there something you came downstairs for?"

To tell you that I want us to be more than friends. "Um... I was just going to get a glass of water." I went over to the cupboard near the sink and turned on the faucet. We both knew I had a perfectly good glass of water on the bedside table upstairs that Tom brought me earlier.

As I filled up the glass, I felt Tom come up close behind me. He gently grabbed my elbow and turned me to face him. He looked down at me with no humor in his eyes.

"El," he spoke softly. "Are you sure this is okay?"

No! I wanted to scream. "Yeah. Why wouldn't it be?" I focused the faucet, turning it off now that my glass was overflowing. I could feel his eyes still trying to read mine, but I couldn't look at him. It hurt too much.

With a sigh, he leaned down and kissed my forehead. His lips lingered longer than any other time, and this sweet kiss felt different from the rest. While the others felt like promises of more to come, this once carried an aura of finality.

"Goodnight, darling," he whispered when his lips finally left my skin. And then he walked out of the room, leaving me in the kitchen with both water in my hands, and water forming in my eyes.

That night, his marvelous down pillows were drenched in my tears.

AN: First: I know the timeline is a bit off from reality, but this is all fictional anyway. So, does it really matter? Second: I understand it seems like Tom and Ellie are NEVER going to get together, but shhh! Be patient. The best things come to those who wait. :) It's coming up. Third: Thank you all for reading, staring, and commenting. I appreciate you all so much. You have no idea.       -Megan