Dusty (Tom Hiddleston /Reader)

Home Sweet Home

(Y/N) POV

I watched the cars go by as Tom and I road in the cab down the London streets. I hated that I left New York but Tom wanted to reschedule and I needed time to heal. The cab stopped in front of my humble apartment is was nothing compared to Tom's stunning home, But it was mine and I did miss it. I got out of the cab and went to grab my suitcases but Tom was out of the car and beat me to it.

"I got it." He smiled.

I felt my stomach do that flip it did whenever he did something cute, which was often.

"Oh, no Tom really, you get home. It's late." I did not want him to see my tiny apartment.

He shook his head, grabbing another bag. "Just lead the way."

I made my way up the steps and to the elevator. It stopped on my floor making a light "ding" when the doors opened.

Opening the door with my key we stepped inside.
My apartment was just as I left it. I turned on a light revealing the bright colored pillows on the turquoise couch, some clothes I was deciding if I should take were still scattered on the pink bedspread, and my newest art piece was on my easel.
The one-room was all I could afford but I did love it.

Tom smiled as he set down my bags.

"It's very, you." He said taking in his surroundings.

"Thanks, I tried to make it my own." I took the big suitcase over to my bed, to put away later.

His gaze landed on my easel, and my heart fell.

"It's not finished yet, " I hurried to the picture to move it so he would not see all the issues I saw with it. "It's just for fun, anyhow." I turned it backward and lead it against the wall.

"No, what are you doing? May I see it?" He said walking over to me.

I tucked my hair behind my ear nervously as Tom picked up the picture.

"This is remarkable! Did you go to school for this?" He took in every little detail.

"Your sweet but no, I never went to school for art. I just draw for fun."

"You have real talent!" he said setting the drawing back on the easel "You should display this proudly."

He looked over to my collection of canvases picking them up one at a time.

"Oh my, this is Bobby." He looked in awe at the chalk pastel portrait of the cocker spaniel.

Tom's eyes became glassy.
"How much do you want for it?"

"Tom seriously, I don't really sell my drawings. It's not that good anyhow." I smiled sadly seeing all the mistakes.

"15,000 pounds sound fair?" He spoke in a serious tone.

"No, really I can't except that. It's just a silly drawing." I stuttered, stunned at the offer.

"(Y/n) This is not a silly drawing, this is true art. You have amazing skills. Why on earth are you not selling all these?"

I could see the excitement on his face.

"Im not taking your money Tom."

"Please! I really want this one." He pleaded.

"If your going to beg, You can have it." A giggle escaped me when he smiled wide.

"I'll treasure it always."