Life Is What You Make It (A Tom Hiddleston Fanfic)

Part 16: The Calm Before the Storm

Does It Come with Egg Rolls?

I put on the sweats and shirt Tom had given me before, and Tom finds some of his own to replace his street clothes from earlier. I find that either a lot of people give t-shirts to Tom, or he has an affinity for ones with nerdy or funny sayings. The ensemble Tom has chosen for himself includes a t-shirt that reads 'I'm too sexy for this shirt'. When he sees me reading it, he looks at me with a mock questioning expression. "What? Too much? Not enough?"

"Well, I think the sentiment is spot on," I say. When he raises an eyebrow in question, I continue, "you are too sexy for that shirt. Now, as for other shirts, the jury's still out." Who am I kidding? Tom is too sexy for any shirt! I think to myself.

"Aren't you a cheeky one this evening. I like cheeky," Tom says smiling, then he pats one of my cheeks (and not the ones on my face) as I walk past him to go downstairs.

Once we make it to the kitchen, I see that Tom had already placed various takeout menus on the granite counter before we went upstairs. "What are you in the mood for?" Tom asks. "Whatever," I say, flipping over one of the menus to look at the back.

"Don't do that," Tom says. "Do what?" I ask, not sure what social faux pas I've committed. "Don't always let me decide.  You have a say in what we eat, or anything we do together," he says, stepping to me and rubbing his hands up and down my arms.

I feel bad for not giving my input. I hate it when someone does the 'Whatever,' or 'It's up to you,' or 'You pick. I'm easy.' It always feels like they're not interested enough in our relationship to even be involved in decisions, and I definitely don't want Tom to feel that way.

"Why don't you pick your three favorites places, then I'll pick one from those three menus," I say. Tom smiles at my suggestion and starts looking through the menus like he's studying for a test. Finally, he picks a Thai, a Chinese, and an Italian menu. I place the menus side by side on the counter and look through all three. As I say, "How about Chinese," Tom comes to stand behind me and looks over my shoulder. "That sounds great, Darling," he says, placing his hands on the counter on either side of me. "Do you want to pick an entree, and then I'll pick one?" I ask, feeling Tom's body lean into the back of mine. "Um, hum," he acknowledges while moving my hair to the side and away from my neck. "Why don't you pick first," he says, as he brushes his lips over my ear and starts a trail of tiny kisses on my cheek, then my jaw, then down my neck.

"If you keep that up, Hiddleston, we'll go hungry," I say, trying to control my breathing. "Do you want us to starve to death?" I ask as he starts to press himself more firmly to me. "If it means I get to take you to bed again, I can think of worse ways to die," Tom responds as he runs his hands under my shirt to cup my breasts. I know if i don't put a halt to this, we'll end up christening every part of his flat, starting with his kitchen counter.

I stop his hands from exploring further, then I turn to face him. As he seems to sense that he's not going to get his way, Tom adopts a sad puppy look. I tiptoe a bit and kiss his nose, then his chin, then a corner of his mouth. As I start to kiss the other corner, Tom turns his head so that I plant a kiss firmly on his lips.  He then takes a step back from me and places his hands on my shoulders. "God, MacKenzie, can't you even keep from kissing me for, like, five minutes? We're trying to decide about takeout. Sheesh!" Tom says in a pretty spot-on American accent.

I smirk at him and say, "I do not sound like that."  He mimics me with, 'I do not sound like that,' and I have to admit, except for his lower voice, it's really close to my accent. Since I have no rebuttal and I don't want to give him a chance to mimic me again, I say nothing and just roll my eyes. With that, Tom's expression turns to one of triumph, and he picks up his phone and says,"Okay, so Chinese it is. What would you like, Darling?"

Checking In and Checking Out

While Tom orders our food, I return to the entry table and retrieve my phone. I see I have more missed calls and texts. Most are from Anna. Again, I go to her final text from just a few minutes ago. "Mia Elizabeth MacKenzie, I swear I'm going to kick your ass when I see you. Now please call me b/c I'm worried!!!"

As I smile at Anna's use of a mom's carrot and stick routine, my phone rings. I see Anna's goofy face light up my screen.

"Hi Mom."

"For the love of fucking fruitcake, where the hell have you been?" Anna yells.

"It's okay, Anna. Everything is fine," I say calmly.

"Fuck no, everything is not fine, Mia!" Anna rails, and I can hear Pratt behind her saying, 'Does she know we've been worried?'

"Look, I didn't mean to worry you. I've just been...busy," I say. At this, Tom stifles a guffaw as he's been listening to my side of the conversation since he finished our takeout order. As I mouth, 'Anna,' Tom nods in understanding, picks up his own phone and wanders to one of the sofas to read his texts.

"Do you know all the shit that's hitting social media?" Anna asks in a somewhat calmer tone. "Which shit? Prince Harry, lunch, the fangirls, or the story about Tom being Alan Rickman's love child?" I ask. At this, Tom gives me his eyebrow look, and I just make the universal sign for drinking and point at my phone, indicating that Anna may be drunk. Tom chuckles at this and then continues his reading.

"This is serious, Mia. The first few articles just referred to you as 'mystery woman', then they moved on to 'Wonder Woman'. Now they're saying, 'Mia MacKenzie, an up-and-coming actress'."

I groan quietly, and start to rub my temple. It's suddenly feeling very headachy in here.

"Some are even speculating that you're hooking up with Tom to further your own career," Anna continues. At this, I grown more loudly, and Tom looks at me, concerned. I mime that I'm just really hungry, but I don't think he's buying it. I turn my back to him and say to Anna, "I'll just have to figure out how to deal with that.'

"Have you heard from Ben or anyone at the studios?" I ask, referring to our film's director. "He called me when he couldn't get in touch with you. Though I think he's concerned for your well being, mostly he was laughing his ass off at the taxi photos," Anna says.

I'm silent because I don't know what to say. "So, how is your well being, Momma Mia?" Anna asks. "It's fine," I respond. "And how is the king of Disney princes' well being?" she asks with a teasing tone. "It is fine as well," then as I walk nonchalantly toward the kitchen for some privacy, I add, "very fine."

With that, Anna giggles like a school girl. Again, I can hear Pratt close to her - 'What? What's happened? Aw crap, is Mia telling you the juicy parts? I can't hear this, I have to work with Tom, for fuck's sake!'

"Okay, so I guess I'll let you get back to all that finery," Anna says, then she and I make kissing noises at each other, and we end the call.

"All those kisses for Anna, and I haven't gotten one from you for at least 15 minutes."  I jump as I realize Tom is right behind me. "Holy Ganesha, Tom, you scared the hell out of me," I say as I turn to him. "I didn't mean to startle you," he says, then continues, "and I didn't know you have an interest in Indian deities." 

I ignore his comment and take a step toward him to put my arms around his waist. Tom wraps his arms around me and squeezes me tightly against his body. "I like when you're like this," he says.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, when you're soft and cuddly, and you make me feel like I'm your protector, or at least you find me soothing," he says.

"I do find you soothing, and I feel very protected when I'm with you," I say, smiling up at him. As he lowers his head to kiss me, the buzzer sounds letting us know that Tom has a visitor, mostly likely our food delivery. Tom plants a quick kiss on my forehead before walking to answer it.

"Oh, and just so you know, we'll be having a little talk later about how 'very fine' you find me," Tom says over his shoulder as he walks away.