All Love Can Be Revived (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

Chapter 5- Coffee Stains and Ruined Shirts

I am sooooo sorry for how long it's taken me to upload this, and even more sorry for what a terrible chapter it is. I have absolutely no idea where I'm going with this story anymore, so I'm just making things up as I go along. I know what I want in the end, but until the end, I've no idea! So please bare with me! 

~

The filming only lasts about two hours, and they decide just to continue tomorrow. I knew this was a rather short day of filming from what Tom was used to, but he wouldn't make me sit through an entire day of just watching him act. 

"I had told you-know-who earlier today that I would introduce you two, but I think I should keep you away from her, yes?" Tom asks, smiling. 

"What do you think I'll do?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, you never know," he replies, placing a gentle hand on the small of my back as we walk. It was a protective act, as if trying to keep my close to him as we headed for the exit of the café, and through the many people inside. "I can't help but feel as if you're not fond of her."

"I know..." I say as we now near the car, the cold London air blowing onto my face. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. There are just some people you automatically don't like."

I nod lightly as Tom opens the passenger door for me, and I get in. When he get's in on his side, he buckles himself up, placing his bag on the floor next to my feet. I don't mind. He knows I don't mind. He buckles himself in swiftly.

"So. Your place, right?"

"Right," he confirms, a small smile on his face. "You hungry? We can get some take-out."

"Yeah, that sounds nice. If it's no trouble, that is." I pull the seat-buckle over my chest, hearing a click as it secures. 

"No trouble at all," Tom says. He starts the smooth engine before pulling onto the busy road with precision. We don't make it very far before having to stop at a light.

Then Tom's phone -which h had set in the cup holder- rings a small, tri-tone melody, indicating a text. I look down at my hands, not wanting my eyes to wander to his screen. 

"Can you read that for me, darling?" He asks, concentrating on the road. I watch him for a short moment, observing the way his hands rest on the wheel quite delicately, yet still firmly, and his chin, which slightly tilts up as he watches the street. His blue eyes are set forward, and his lips into a mostly thin line. He's almost always smiling without even realizing, though. And now is one of those moments. The ends of his lips are barely curled up. 

I blink, still surprised by his words. "Uh, sure..." I carefully pick up his phone, letting it settle into my hands. The text is still there when I click on the screen, but as I unlock his phone (still the same password from before I left) I can't help but notice his background. It's a picture of us. The one where Tom is kissing me on the cheek, and actually got me to smile. 

"It's the only picture I have of you and your true smile," Tom suddenly says.

My cheeks heat up, realizing he saw me staring. I quickly open his message app, looking down. "Oh."

"So what does it say?"

"Sarah," I say. "She says you left your script behind on the table."

"Shit," Tom mutters, hastily looking into his rear view mirror. "I'm going to have to go back and get that. Can you tell her I'll be there in just a minute?"

I nod, and start typing the message. While I'm still turning, Tom makes a sudden sharp turn, and I become thankful I put on my seatbelt. It was like the racetrack all over again. I look up, wondering what on Earth he's doing. He turns onto a street, pulls over, and when there's a space, he turns around, heading back to the café. I finally send the message, returning his phone to where I picked it up from.