All Roses Must Wilt (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

Chapter 28- Tom's Birthday

My head hurts. My memories are a blur. My mouth tastes like crap. And I feel like crap.

Wait.

Today's Tom's birthday.

I quickly sit up, but instantly regret it. I hold my head in my hands, cringing. I think I'm going to die. Slowly rising from the bed, I head to the living room. He's already up. When he sees me, he smiles.

"Good morning, darling!"

I groan lightly, cringing as I walk. "Please tell me we have something for headaches."

"Of course we do." Tom gives me a small, soft hug, probably afraid I'll hit him if he squeezes me to tightly. "You poor thing. Sit down and I'll get you some pills, alright?"

I nod and sit on the couch. Tom soon returns with a glass of water and two pills. I gently take the items offered to me.

"Hey, Tom?"

"Yes?"

"Happy birthday."

He grins lightly. "Aw, thank you, Rose."

"Excited for the play?"

"Immensely," he says, his expression lighting up as he sits next to me. Then he starts to talk about Shakespeare. Something about one of his plays. I try to listen, I really do, but his tone is filled with such enthusiasm and he's talking so fast that it's hurting my head. Am I a bad person for not listening?

When he was done, I just nod. Oh, God, I'm so mean. "So, uh... What can I do to make this a good birthday for you?" I ask.

He doesn't seem to mind that I spaced out. Any other day I would have loved to listen to him talk about Shakespeare, but today was not a good morning for me. "You could always go on my jog with me. I was just about to go, but I thought I'd wait until you woke up."

"Tom, you know I'm terrible at jogging..."

"Well, I suppose I can just go by myself. Do you mind if I go?"

"No, of course not. It's your day. You do what makes you happy."

Tom stands up and kisses my head lightly, ruffling my hair. "I won't be long. And I'll bring back breakfast."

I nod lightly. "Bye." He sends me one final smile before leaving the hotel room. Hm. What to do now? I glance over at my laptop sitting on the counter. I could always continue working on that romance novel Kate requested. As I open up my laptop and word document, I start to wonder how I even want this story to turn out. And how I can make it good. I've already written a few rough drafts, yet I know nothing about love, nor what will make this book special and different than any other romance book out there.

Then an idea hits me. A rough idea that is not yet perfect and still needs to be worked out, but an idea nonetheless. An impossibly perfect man and an arrogant woman. Not impossibly perfect like handsome with a chiseled body, but impossibly perfect because of his pure soul. His incredibly positive soul. The way nothing can bother him or make his day bad. He'll be so absent-minded that everyone will think he is weird. Some may call him dumb, even, for letting things slip past him. But it's only because he won't care. He'll be based off of Tom a little bit.

As I start to type, I find the words coming to me so easily. Page after page I type, until finally I hear the front door open. He's back already? How long have I been typing?

"Writing?" He asks.

I nod. "Did you enjoy your jog?"

"I did." Then he holds up a brown paper bag, indicating he brought back breakfast.