All Love Can Be Revived (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

Chapter 6- The Necklace

I let out a sigh when I feel my shoulder being shook. Feeling too tired to get up, I just shift my body, snuggling deeper under the covers. The shaking continues gently, though.

"I've got to go film now, darling."

With my eyes still closed, I nod. "Okay," I murmur.

Wait.

I sit up quickly, looking around. It's early, too early for any sunlight to stream in through the curtains, but I can see objects around me. I see enough to know I didn't fall asleep in my own flat last night, but Tom's. I'm sleeping in his bed. He is standing in the doorway, completely dresses and well-groomed and ready to go.

"Something wrong?" He asks, noticing my obvious confusion and terror.

"I-I slept here?" I ask, clutching the covers lightly. They were fresh and clean as well, and smelled lightly of him. "Where did you sleep?"

Tom gives me a small smile. "Don't worry, love. You had the bed to yourself."

I take a deep breath, feeling my shoulders relaxing. "Oh. I'm sorry. I meant to go home, and to tell the truth, I don't even remember falling asleep."

"Nothing to feel sorry about," he assures me. "Do you need a ride to work?"

"A ride would be nice... It won't take me long to get ready. Maybe five minutes."

"Take your time," he says with yet another smile. "I'll be making some coffee."

I nod and wait until he closes the door before jumping out of the bed. If my suspicion is right, Tom hasn't thrown out my extra pair of clothes yet. I've always kept a pair here, but until now, I was positive he had tossed them. I go to the back of his closet, and find an old pair of my jeans, a T-shirt, and a light wind-breaker.

I quickly slip out of Tom's clothes I'd borrowed to sleep in, and into my own.

Brushing my hair out with my fingers, I quickly pull it into a side-braid, and head for the bathroom connected to Tom's room. It feels strange to be in his house, where I know where every single thing is, and some things are even mine. In some ways, it would seem that two people live in this flat, not just one.

I brush my teeth with one of his spare toothbrushes, fresh from the package, and finish my splashing my face with cold water. As I look onto the counter once again, in the very corner, I recognize something very familiar. I grab the item, a purple crystal on a silver chain, and examine it. It's the one he gifted me for my birthday, and I gave to him before I came back to London. He kept it. Maybe just because he spent money on it, and throwing it away would just be a waste.

Still holding the necklace, I decide to go and ask him about it.

After I do so, handing him the necklace and trying to act as calm as possible about it, I watch as he smiles sheepishly and looks down at the necklace, his cheeks turning a bit more pink.

"I've nearly forgotten about this," he says, still holding it. "But I do want you to have it."

He unclips the back and holds out the necklace, as if expecting me to go into his arms with a wide smile and allow him to clasp this expensive necklace around my neck. He waits for a moment, but I don't move a muscle.

"I thought you liked this necklace?"

"I do," I say quickly, wanting anything but to hurt his feelings. "It's pretty, I will admit that, but doesn't it sort of give you a feeling of nostalgia?"

"It makes me feel happy, actually. It'd make me feel even happier to see you accept it."

Chewing on my bottom lip for a moment, an act of nervousness or anxiety, I'm sure, I slowly walk to him and turn around, letting him fix the clasp.