Shields- A Tom Hiddleston Fanfiction

Chapter 30

Grey: of a color intermediate between black and white as of ashes or overcast sky.

Grief: deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone's death

Love: an intense feeling of deep affection

Pain: 1) Physical suffering or discomfort caused by illness or injury 2) mental suffering or distress

The clock reads noon.

I remain curled onto my side, staring at the dust particles floating about in the sunbeam. Wait, sunlight? I look over my shoulder; Tom is gone, probably downstairs, or on a run. I drop my feet over the edge of the bed and stand, pulling the comforter around me as I pad to the window.

Except for the puddles on the ground, there is no trace of rain in the sky.

"Of course..." I whisper. "Typical."

I hear footsteps outside the door and turn, the comforter still draped over my shoulders. Tom stands in the doorway, a small smile on his face. He is a little red, so I assume he went for a quick jog while I was asleep. I look to the bed and see a piece of paper on his pillow I'd missed. Probably a note telling me where he went. "I bought breakfast." He says, keeping his voice low. He holds out his arms to me, and I walk over to him sluggishly, letting him pull me into a hug.

After a few moments of quiet embracing, he scoops me up bridal-style, comforter and all, and carries me down the stairs. He sets me down at the bar where a coffee cup waits, as well as a bag of something that probably smells amazing.

Tom opens the bag and sets a delicious-looking scone on a napkin before me. I smile my thanks and tear a small piece off before sticking it in my mouth. It probably tastes amazing, but I can't really tell. I can't bring myself to care. Tom begins eating his, watching me as he does. I take a small sip of the coffee, still tasting nothing, and then push the scone away, feeling slightly nauseated.

"Alice, I don't mean to press, but you need to eat." Tom whispers. I glance up at him, feeling helpless.

"I'm really not hungry. I'm sorry, Tom." I close my eyes, taking slow, deep breaths. Tom pushes the scone at me.

"Just eat half of it. I won't press after that, I promise."

I stare at the pastry for a few moments before forcing myself to eat another bite. About a fourth of the way through, my stomach rolls, and I barely have time to make it to the guest bathroom. Tom holds my hair back, murmuring quietly into my ear. I finish bringing up what little food I had forced myself to eat.

As I am rinsing out my mouth, I hear my phone ring. "I'll get it." Tom murmurs, standing. I just nod, resting my head against the sink counter. I hear Tom walk away to the kitchen, where I had left my cellphone on the counter the night before.

"It's Joel." Tom says quietly. I turn around so my back is leaning up against the cabinet, holding my hand out for the phone. Tom hands it to me, and I accept the call, holding the phone up to my ear.

"Alice? Is it true?" Joel's voice is hoarse.

"Where were you lst night?" I whisper, tears pricking the back of my eyes. "Where were you when I called you about your sister's death? And I swear, if you were in bed with... her, I will cuss you out."

Nothing.

"Yes. She's dead. She was killed in a car accident when a drunk driver hit her. Patrick, her boyfriend, is in intensive care. They aren't sure he's going to survive."

"Oh. Oh god." I hear a thud on the other end of the phone, and then I hear heavy breathing. Then, Joel is sobbing into the receiver. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, and I cover my face with a hand, biting my tongue until I taste blood. Stay strong.