All Love Can Be Revived (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

Chapter 8- Escape

This update is a bit shorter than most, so I'm sorry for this. It's a bit of a filler chapter before their date with Chris and Elsa! Enjoy!

The next morning, Tom is the one who wakes me up. Still only in his boxers, he leans over me and gentle shakes my shoulder until I wake up. I quickly cover myself with the blanket, embarrassed of my black and white polka-dotted bra. 

The small couch is moved back to where it should be, as if Tom never moved it closer to me last night.

"Good morning," he greets with a smile." I have a killer headache."

Letting my eyes adjust, I sit up. "Well I wonder why." I pause. "Did you sleep out here last night?"

He grins, looking almost bashful. "Yeah, I did. I got rather lonely after you left."

I can't help but let out a small laugh.

"I'll get you some clothes," he says with a small smirk.

"Some clothes? Where from?" It takes me a moment to remember my stash here. "Oh, right. Yes, that would be helpful, thank you."

He returns just a minute later, a pair of light skinny jeans and a T-shirt, back from when I only wore boy-ish clothes. My, how we've both changed in such a little amount of time. I've become feminine, and I've worked to find myself and my talent. Tom seems more mature and level-headed than ever as he works. It's only me that seems to ruin his routine.

I pull my clothes on in front if him, not caring if he sees my undergarments.

"Today is our date, don't forget," he reminds me gently.

Oh, right. Our get-together with Chris Hemsworth and his wife, Elsa. I'm sure they know all about me and my little time periods of ignoring Tom. They probably think I'm the least mature person they've ever seen with him. But I've promised Tom I will go, so I will.

"Okay um... I think I'll need to stop at home to get ready. I have some nice clothes. I'm guessing we're gonna dress formal, yeah?"

I didn't mean to, but I must have sounded a little upset or annoyed, because with a small smile, he took my hand in his two large ones, and sat me down beside him.

"I'm not making you do anything, darling," he says gently.

I look down at his hands in mine, and I let myself relax. It's as if my protective walls are down for now. and I lean into him.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For being such a... stick in the mud, I suppose."

He smiles lightly, shaking his head. "Come here for a moment, sweet."

I don't understand what he means for a second, since I am already next to him, but I soon understand. He wraps his arms around me, and I lean even further into him, pulling my feet up onto the couch. He holds me tightly and securely, and I feel his cheek against my temple.

And then came the silence. But it didn't seem like silence. To me, this simple action was music to my ears, and he knows it. And while he holds me, I start to wonder what I'm doing with my life, and what he's doing with his. Are we wasting limited time by just sitting here? What other things could we be doing right now?

"What are we going to do until dinner?" I ask, hating to break the silence.

"Anything we'd like to do."

I glance around at his apartment, still pulled tightly against him. I look at his large T.V., and nice, small fire place, and huge collection of books on his shelves. He has a whole another shelf in his room.