When I Met Tom (A Tom Hiddleston Fan Fiction)

Chapter Thirteen

I woke up the next morning in what was possibly the comfiest bed I have ever slept in. I stretched myself out, although even when doing a proper flat-out starfish I still couldn’t touch any of the sides, it was that wide!

I got myself up and walked to the bathroom, looking at myself in the giant mirror on the wall. I was dressed in my favourite pyjamas, which consisted of a pair of navy blue shorts with flamingos printed all over them and a bright pink t-shirt, my skin was still practically glowing after the treatments I’d had done the day before and my hair was a bit all over the place. I washed my face, brushed through my hair that I washed last night when I got back, brushed my teeth and put on some tinted lip balm.

I wandered back into the kitchen area to get myself a glass of water when I heard a light knock at the door. I slowly walked over to the door and looked through the tiny peep hole to see who it was first.

I opened the door to Tom, dressed in a tight black shirt, a dark pair of slim fitting jeans and smart black shoes.

‘Morning darling,’ he grinned, leaning in to kiss me on the cheek, ‘I didn’t wake you did I? I was going to wait. I can come back later –’

‘It’s fine, you didn’t wake me. Come in,’ I interrupted, not wanting him to go anywhere.

‘That’s good,’ Tom closed the door behind him as he walked in, ‘You look beautiful this morning.’

‘I don’t think so, I’ve just woken up, I have no make-up on and –’

‘Well, you clearly don’t need the make-up to look this amazing. You must just wake up beautiful.’

I blushed, ‘I don’t think so but thanks.’

‘You’re welcome. I don’t know if you’re much of a breakfast person but I went out for a run this morning and came across this lovely little bakery. So after I came back and showered I popped back down there and got us some pastries and tea.’

Tom held up a tray with two takeaway coffee cups and a brown paper bag that I hadn’t noticed he was carrying.

‘That sounds lovely, thank you.’

We walked around to the breakfast bar, Tom grabbing a couple of plates from one of the cupboards (He had clearly stayed here before because he knew where everything was!) and we both sat down next to each other.

Lifting the lids off of the cups, Tom passed one over to me.

‘Sugar?’ he asked.

‘No thank you.’

‘And I got a few things as I wasn’t sure what you’d like. I got an almond croissant... a cinnamon bun... and a blueberry muffin.’

‘Sounds delicious,’ I said, looking at the tasty treats.

‘Anything you like?’