On the Rocks - Pt 7 (Tom Hardy)

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Part Seven

"What about this one?" You ask turning to face Tom.

Standing in the middle of a rather large master bedroom, made larger by the absence of any furniture, you watch as he glances at the brochure in hand and shrugs.

House hunting with Tom is like asking a child to pick a favourite toy. It is hard to narrow it down. This search is beginning to get a little tiring and you're almost to the point of giving up.

"I like those windows." Tom gestures to the floor to ceiling windows in the center of the room. "They'd be lovely to wake up and see the sun, each morning."

A selling point, victory.

Any detail that Tom found to like about the house was a small accomplishment. He had been living with you for almost four months, as much as you were enjoying him and his company it wouldn't hurt for him to have his own place.

You know he is missing being able to have the kids whenever he wants. You've loosened the reins a little, allowing him to bring them by more often, but there just wasn't enough room for sleep overs and the likes. Not to mention the dogs. He was like a little boy, pouting each time he leaves them.

"We could put in a nice big bed, lotsa those pillows you like. Sit back in the morning, coffee and toast, watching the sun and the little birds."

You can't help but chuckle at the vision Tom has painted. Walking over to join him in the window, you shake your head at him. "You do know that I'm not moving?"

"Maybe not, but I do hope you'd come around often, lovely." Tom grins sliding his hand around yours. "It's not that far from where you're at."

The house was only a 25-30 minute car ride from your own flat. If traffic was crazy, it may take a few extra minutes but the commute would never be more than 45 minutes away. The neigbourhood is stunning, to say the least. Well kept gardens, each house looking shiny and new. A real family feel to the street, something Tom had noticed and had seemed to like.

"Look, even room for your car in the drive." He points out the window, to the short driveway below.

"Aside from those things, what are some real reasons we can tell the guy you like the place?" You ask taking a sweeping gaze at the neighbourhood below.

You watch Tom's face scrunch up a little, his brow knits together and his eyes crinkle around the edges. His fingers continue to tangle with yours as he thinks.

Off the top of your head, you could think of several. It had a great kitchen and living space, four bedrooms, two baths, a laundry room, and even a fair sized yard for two kids and dogs to run around. A quiet street with other families around, not far from schools, or the mothers of his children...the list went on.

"I like that it has space." Tom began his list. "It's not loud or noisy. I don't like that it is so close to the other houses."

"This is London, no house we find will have space from the neighbours." You point out and roll your eyes.

If Tom finds things he hates, he won't even bother to consider the house.

"It's close to everything, you'd need. It's in a good area. The neighbours all seem to have kids, a bonus. Didn't the brochure say there is a public pool and park near by?"

"Oh, lovely." Tom makes a teasing "tsk" sound. "It sounds like you're trying to get rid of me."

"What? Never." You fake surprise and smirk. "I swear, I'm not trying to kick you out. All I want is for you to be comfortable. Surely you can't be that happy being shoved in that shoe box with me."

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