Moments

Enthusiastic Fighting

So, it seems like I'll be doing a thing...
Believe me, I'm going to continue Scoop. I'm just really busy at the moment, and I feel like I need to put a little more work into that than just write something down quickly. As soon as my life is a little less hectic and I actually have something like free time on the weekends (means, after moving into a new flat), I'm going to continue.
However, I do have ideas. If you're following me on tumblr, you realise that there are so many ideas, I couldn't possibly write them all down for Scoop. So, I've decided to do a one-shot series. It's going to be one characater (Steph) and Tom. There'll be one-shots in no chronological order, just little bits of their lives.
So, if you want to read something, please ask!

"That freaking bastard," Steph whispered to herself, closing the Youtube video she just watched. "Tom Hiddleston, you stupid git." Did she really just watch her boyfriend complaining about her during an interview? Well, not knowingly complaining for the public, but she knew exactly what he'd meant with his answers.

She didn't actually believe the message Luke - Tom's publicist - had sent her half an hour ago, saying, "Tom told me about your fight, he just didn't tell me he would actually speak about it. And I promise the flirting wasn't as bad as it looks in this. Sorry!"

"Von wegen, sorry," Steph grumbled to herself in German. She tended to do this, especially since her boyfriend decided to do something stupid like this. Living in London for almost five years hasn't changed any of that.

Yes, they did have a fight. Yes, she maybe said something stupid, but Tom had been getting on her nerves. She loved him, dearly. Two years into the relationship, and basically living together - though, they hadn't made that official, she just had most of her stuff at his place, slowly placing decorative pillows everywhere - didn't change that. In fact, it only grew, as boring and disgustingly cute that sounded. But goodness, he was overbearing at times. She loved him being enthusiastic, she really did. Whenever she had a stressful day or an argument with a customer, she knew she could come to Tom's flat and he'd tell her about his jog in the park or how the lady in the bakery had a new recipe for something. He could talk for hours about that.

But being a freelance journalist for a living also meant that sometimes she couldn't just sit there listening to Tom talk. Not when she had an article with 3,000 words to finish and another one waiting to be written. They weren't Pulitzer price worthy and they wouldn't cure the hunger in the world, but she was proud of her columns, or whenever a newspaper asked her to do a piece. Of course, sometimes it was just a little one-hour-meeting, plus taking a picture, no permanent editor had the time to attend, but Steph was happy she was considered to cover the jobs. Especially, not writing in her first language.

***

So, that scenario occurred the day before. It'd been a Wednesday, and she had to finish two articles by the next day. Steph had been typing away, being in the flow of writing some nice piece about the local theatre group spanning people from 13 to 74 years old. She loved the interview she'd done, and the pictures she'd taken, but she just hadn't been able to concentrate before. But then it'd been flowing, and she'd been in a writing mood.

Tom had bought a new electric torch. It'd been a stupid thing to fight over, she knew that now. Hell, she'd known it yesterday. But it wasn't the fact he'd bought it, they were fighting about. He just wouldn't. Stop. Talking. Abut it. Not for at least 30 minutes. He was literally babbling away while trying to show her how it could send messages in morse.

"Tom," she'd sighed, annoyed, when the light fell into her eyes for the second time in five minutes.

"Yes, darling?" She'd heard the grin in his voice, he'd definitely knew what he was doing.