Calm Before The Storm | Tom Hiddleston x Reader

N I N E

     It's nearing to a week since you had seen or had any contact with Tom. And honestly— you didn't know why he's still refusing your calls or messages. You were desperate to get in touch with him.
     After your conversation with Jackson, he had disappeared and you couldn't help but become upset at his disappearance— you had hoped to at least explain Jackson's appearance and apologize for his actions. You were at fault.
     You were always at fault, apparently.
Scarlett didn't mention anything about Tom being standoffish when she saw him by the door before she had entered— just said that he was in a hurry.

            Did my conversation with Jackson had anything to do with Tom running off?

            No, it couldn't be.

     Trying your best— you tried to recall the moment when you and Jackson spoke to each other, wondering if anything was out of the blue.

     "He's Tom..." you mumbled, shifting your gaze down to the ground, "He's—"

     "The father." He whispered, nodding his head slowly in defeat.
     The silence was quite deafening. You didn't know how long it was but it felt like an eternity before he spoke again.

     "Him or me."

     You couldn't help but let your jaw drop at his words, feeling a pull at your heart or was it like... your heart shattering into a million pieces?

     You couldn't respond, somehow— the man before you had grown to be someone you love. Despite no one had the knowledge of you two becoming an item for at least eight months now, you two always found the time to be together, even though you were a mother of a little boy who's going through a phase of the terrible twos, and him being a busy surgeon. You two made it work. And it was kept under the radar. He hasn't even been introduced to your son, yet.

     Well— at least that's what you thought. You kinda sensed that your parents knew but decided to turn a blind eye. Like, it was obvious.

     "I'll take your silence as the answer I had expected then. You love him."

      "Jackson, I—" you were practically stuttering. 

      He shook his head at you, the corners of his mouth tugging to a small tight smile. "It's okay. I've always sensed it. Maybe it's one of the reasons why you always brush the idea of introducing me to your family."

     Well... give this man an award.
     Why are people always so spot on when it comes to me, but me?

     "I'm so—"

     "Stop saying you're sorry." he croaked, trying his best to keep his composure. "We'll be okay. I promise."

     All you could do was nod. You were ashamed. Appalled, really. 

     "Can I at least have one final kiss?" he whispered, the sad smile still etched on his lips. You stared at him— his features scrunching up to a pained expression. This was heartbreaking, indeed. 

     With a nod, you slowly leaned up on the tips of your toes— your eyelids fluttering shut as you feel his fingers brush against your cheeks before your lips come in contact with his.
It was brief— but you felt his emotions radiating towards you. You couldn't take it anymore, slowly pulling away with your brows furrowed; your arms snaking their way around his hips.