All Roses Must Wilt (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

Chapter 18- Breaking Point

The door opens.

"Ah, so sorry I'm late..." Tom quickly apologizes, coming in.

It's been two hours since his text, telling me he'd be one hour. I shrug, still keeping a gaze on the telly. "It's okay."

Tom kicks off his shoes and collapses right next to me on the couch, looking exhausted. He's looking at me. I can tell. His long, steady hand teaches towards me and takes a strand of my hair, twirling it lightly. "Your hair's damp," he observes.

I nod. "They have a bathtub here."

He smiles lightly. "That's great."

I glance over at him. He really does seem tired. Was it a lack of sleep, a rise in stress, or just because the meeting was really long? "Hey, you okay?" I ask softly.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem stressed," I say. "Have you ever though of maybe taking a short vacation?" 

He smiles. "This is a vacation, Rose."

I scowl lightly. To-om..."

"Hm?"

"This is not a vacation. You're working. And look at you, you're exhausted!"

"Darling, I'm fine," he insists. "You don't need to worry about me. Now, you hungry? I brought some dinner." He holds up a plastic bag with some to-go boxes in them.

I sigh lightly, taking the bag from him and going into the kitchen. "I'll get it ready." I take the food, which was from a Chinese takeout, I suppose, and put it on two plates before microwaving them. 

When I go in to give him his food, he's fast asleep, leaning his head against the back of the couch. I sigh, putting the plates back in the kitchen. No need to wake him. Instead, I gently push him so he's lying on the couch, not just sitting on it. He happily rearranges himself without protesting. "I'm sorry.." he murmurs. "I'll make it up to you in the morning.."

I gently kiss his forehead. "No need, Tom. You just rest." I put my warm blanket over him, making sure he won't get cold. "You sure you don't want to sleep in your bed?" I ask softly.

He shakes his head. I can tell he's about to fall asleep again.

I sit on my knees by his head. "Hey, Tom?" I whisper. "One more thing... what do you want for your birthday?"

"Mmm... There's a Shakespeare play about twenty minutes from here on that day..."

"So you want to go?"

"With you," he says.

I smile lightly. "Alright. Are you sure you're free that day?" 

"Mm." He nods. "And the 8th. What do you want for yours?"

I let out a light laugh, ruffling his hair. "We'll talk about it tomorrow. Goodnight, Tom."

"Goodnight, love," he murmurs.

I rise from my position and go into the kitchen, putting all of his food into the fridge. Then I sit at the counter and eat the plate I had prepared for myself, watching Tom's steady breathing on the couch. He must be awfully uncomfortable on that thing. He has to bend his knees just to fit. Ugh, I shouldn't have let him fall asleep there. I should have forced him to go to bed the minute he got home. He hasn't even changed out of his clothes from the meeting! I resist the urge to take off his tie and jacket. It'd only wake him up. 

I wash the dishes before putting them up and going into the bedroom to sleep. 

Different bed. Different room. Different city. Heck, different country, even. Yet I feel completely safe knowing that I'm not alone. Well, sort of. It'd be better if Tom were actually in this room with me. But he's in this hotel room, and he cares about me. He's always there for me. And always will be. If I ever need someone to talk to, he's there. But there's just some things I can't tell him...