storytime || tom holland

one

"What are you guys doing up?" Tom asks as he makes his way into his children's shared bedroom.

"We can't sleep." Eli, his oldest son says.

"If you're expecting me to sing for you, you're all doomed." Tom says playfully.

"Tell us a story then!" His daughter Elizabeth, who was only four years old —and therefore two years younger than her brother— exclaims, suddenly getting excited.

"Okay," Tom sighs, defeated. "Which book do you want me to read?"

"You've read them all." Eli groans.

"Why don't you make up a story for us?" His daughter asks with pleading eyes, which are known to be Tom's biggest weakness.

Sitting down on the end of Liz's bed, Tom rubs his eyes before saying; "if I do this, do you promise to go to sleep?"

"Yes," his children say in unison.

Before he could even think of a story to tell them, Tom sees you walking through the hallway with the laundry basket in your hands and an idea pops into his head.

"Darling!" He exclaims, trying to catch your attention. When you do, you stop in your tracks and lean on the bedroom's doorframe, waiting for him to go on. "Would you mind coming here for a sec?"

"Aren't you two supposed to be asleep?" You question as you place the laundry basket on the floor and sit on the end of Eli's bed.

"They can't sleep," Tom answers for them.

"Daddy promised to tell us a story." Liz tells you, and you nod in acknowledgment.

"I see," you hum before looking at your husband.

"I was hoping you'd help me out." Tom says rubbing his eyes, hinting how tired he was from work that day.

"Oh- I know!" You scream excitedly, making your family chuckle. "Have we told you guys about how a girl fell in love with the most beautiful boy in the world?" You ask, already knowing the answer.

"I don't think so." Eli says with his brows furrowed.

"Well then, honey, why don't you hit it off?" You ask Tom giving him a look, which was enough for him to know what you wanted him to talk about.

"Okay, so I believe it was about thirteen years ago..."

+++

Letting out a heavy sigh, you let yourself fall into one of the uncomfortable chairs placed in front of the airport's big window, which was facing a great amount of people working on a plane. Your flight had been delayed, again. It was the second time that day, and all you wanted to do was curl into a ball and sleep. The idea of having another two spare hours of doing absolutely nothing —because let's face it, there isn't really much you can do to keep yourself busy in an airport— made you want to cry.

Deciding you'd need some caffeine to help you not fall asleep, you grabbed your luggage and wandered around the airport until you found a little coffee shop at the end of a hallway. After giving the blonde barista your order, you patiently waited for it to be given to you. Once your name was called, you grabbed your cup of coffee and turned on your heels to look for a table. But of course, fate thought otherwise.

Before you knew it, you bumped into a stranger as soon as you turned around, which resulted in your cup being knocked to the ground, coffee slightly staining the stranger's clothes.

Classic.

"Oh my God." You said shocked about what happened. "I'm so sorry, here let me help you." You offered, grabbing a few napkins from the counter.