Broken ( A Tom Hiddleston fanfic )

chapter eight: Pitchblack

"Will you fit in there?" I doubly asked.

I couldn't think straight. He was standing there in only a sweatpants. NO t-shirt. His chest was bare. His beautiful chest, I couldn't keep my eyes of it. I wanted to kiss him all over it. He was so irresistible.

"Probably, " he aswered and had put his hands in his hips, carefully inspecting the tiny couch in front of us.

"I'm really sorry..." I dreamy muttered, still staring at that piece of perfection in front of me.

I wanted to touch it, or at least poke it.

"Don't be," he immediately looked up, His hands shove in my waist and he softly whispered, "It's perfect."

His soft lips gave me playful kisses on my neck.

So close.

He was half naked and so close.

He closed his eyes and said, "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

I wasn't used to the fact of having someone else in the house during the night, let alone having him standing shirtless in my house.

I turned around and stroked his chest. His thumb slowly raised my head, making sure I stared into his deep blue eyes. Eyes that had never lost their magic. He closed his eyes and gave me a soft 'goodnight-kiss'.

"Sleep well," He whispered into my ear, "my love."

His deep voice and warm breath made me shake, it always did.

-

I couldn't breathe.

The room was getting smaller and smaller.

I couldn't move, I was stuck.

Cold hands were all over me.

It was pitchblack, with only a smal ray of light shining out of the curtain's end.

His cold hands grasped my throat and they wouldn't let go.

He was trying to kill me.

I could only see a tiny glimpse of his face. Blue eyes, blonde hair, no emotions.

A fearless face was staring into mine and slowly watching me die. No matter how hard I tried to fight for my life, he held me and wouldn't let go.

Tom?

I tried to scream, but my voice was gone and so was the air in my lungs.My heart pounded like a maniac. I could almost feel the blood flowing through my vains.

This had to be a dream.

But it looked so real.

His hands were getting tighter and tighter.

He bended over and repeated, "It's your fault!" over and over.

"My fault?"

I tried to scream, but I couldn't.

The feeling in my arms and legs was disappearing.

He stopped, but only to get the shining thing on the desk. It was silver. And sharpe.

A knife.

His face had, underneath that mask of no emotions, a small expression of hatred puzzled in it.

The point was pressed into my throat, ready to slit it.

-

I screamed and pulled my eyes open.

It was dark, but no Tom to be found, until the door slammed open.

A panicked Tom runned though the door and screamed, "Alice?!"

I fled to the other side of the bed and tried to hide. Even though I knew it was a dream, I was scared of him.

The frightening feeling disappeared when he jumped on the bed and hugged me firmly. His hands stroked my back and he whispered , "Alice, are you alright?"

I was shocked, yet relieved.

"It was so real," I desperately cried, "So horrible, y-you..."

"I?"

"You tried to kill me," I faltered with streams of tears flooding out of my eyes, I couldn't controll them. Only to think that Tom was going to kill me, killed me, even though it wasn't real.

Tom held me like he would never let go. One hand in my hair, the other one on my back. He tried to calm me down, "It was just a dream, I wouldn't even think about doing such a thing. I love you, you should know that, and I'd give my life for you."

Now tears were coming out of his blue watery eyes.

Yes, it was just a dream, he wasn't going to kill me.

Just a dream, a dream who looked too real.

I took a deep breath and looked up to Tom.

"Stay here," I sobbed.

He looked down to see my eyes and wiped the tears of my cheeks.

He had let go a small comforting smile.

"I will," he nodded, planted a small kiss on my forehead and carefully layed next to me in the bed.

He held me as we slept though the night, protecting me from every nightmare.