You are my favourite song - Tom Hiddleston fanfic ✓

Chapter 8 - Girls night

And you took me to hell and back
How many times can I walk away from you?
My mind's like a one way track
And every one is taking me back to you
And you tell me "Just one more time"
And you're lying like you always do
And you give me just one more line and there's nothing that I can do
If I do it just one more time, then I swear that I'll be through
Yeah I know it well

(Hell and back - The Airborne Toxic Event)

It's a friday night and I am totally knackered. At the studio's things have been running smoothly, the work related stuff anyway. Me and Tom, or more specific his influence on my sanity, that's another story. Workdays have been relatively short, even with a day off on wednesday, because Tom didn't have to be on set that much this week. He had some promotional work to do, interviews, stuff like that, and you don't need the Costume Department for that. You do need your publicist, so Luke Windsor was there. I think he was still here since early last week, it's a 24 hour flight from the UK to Australia. You don't just "pop in" for two days or something.

So work didn't tire me out, but the situation at home did. William and I have been avoiding each other as best as we could, but the tension was bad anyway. Now that we agreed to break up, it's like we both want the actual, physical split to happen rather sooner than later.

Paul comes in the room with two cups of tea. I had put Ben to bed while he cleared up after dinner. William went to a friend this afternoon to watch the football match and I don't expect him home before midnight.

"I hate living in this land of limbo," I tell my friend with a sigh. "The constant tension between me and Will is exhausting!"
"I can imagine," Paul says. "Did you guys talk about living arrangements yet?"
"A little," I answer. "Will moved in with me at the time, as this was the biggest flat. He said something about looking for a new place."
"Maybe he could move in with his mother, you know, temporary," Paul suggests. "I don't think you should stretch this situation any longer than necessary."

"No, Ben senses the tension too. He's been crying more often this week." I feel my stomach twist at the idea of hurting Ben with this mess.
"You can't keep Ben out of this completely, honey. He's bound to notice something is amiss between his parents. But he's so young, I'll bet he won't remember any of it," Paul squeezes my hand. "You won't have to spend his college fund on a psychiatrist," he quips.

I tell Paul about Will's plan of hiring a mediator and he thinks that is a good idea. "I know a guy who does that kind of work, I can give you his contact info?"
Paul agrees with me a third person could be a big help to make the best arrangements possible for Ben. Because that's what is most important to me: I want what's best for our son, even when his parents are not together anymore.

We watch the 'Dallas Buyers Club' with a big bowl of popcorn and a couple of beers. We have seen it before, but we both think Matthew McConaughy's Oscar and Golden Globe for Best Actor were very much deserved for this film. Plus, it's got a good soundtrack. Movies with great music always score extra points with me, that's why I like Tarantino so much, even when the violence in his movies is over the top.

During the movie I paint Paul's toenails a nice dark shade of red. It started as a joke years ago, but now we do it almost every girls night. Besides, painting his toenails is peanuts compared to the get up my friend wears on weekends.

"When are we gonna talk about the pink elephant in the room?" Paul asks in an innocent voice, wobbling his feet that are still in my lap.

"What elephant?"

"Well, he's tall, British, well-spoken and incredibly handsome." Paul's face makes me laugh. He can wiggle his eyebrows like no one can.
"I don't think I've ever heard Tom Hiddleston being compared to an elephant."
"No? He's supposed to have a huge..."
"Paul!" I interrupt my friend, swatting him on his leg.

"What? I was gonna say trunk!"

I double over with laughter, not only because of his joke, but also because talking about Tom makes me giddy. I know Paul will want to know every little detail, and I want to talk about everything.

"God," I say in between laughs. "I feel like a silly teenager. Like back in 1999, when I had a crush on Joey Thompson."
"Was Joey Thompson also one of the world's most eligible bachelors?"
"Joey was 18 and had a car. That's exciting enough when you're 13 years old." I chuckle, thinking back to the boy that had my fancy in those days. My taste in men has certainly changed over the years. "That boy barely knew I existed, I was a friend of his younger sister, not a girl he would be interested in." I can't help but think I'm in sort of the same situation now: I am just a girl that works in the Costume Department, Tom is a major Hollywood star.

"I think Tom is interested..." Paul drops in on my thoughts about how Tom and I have very different lives.
I whip my head around. "You think?"
My friend laughs at my sudden enthusiasm. "I would think so. He is flirting with you all the time."
"He does, doesn't he?" At first I thought it was just my hormones playing up, wanting to think every little remark was meant for me. But I can't deny Tom has been more than just friendly to me. "Have I told you about the helmet thing?"

Earlier this week I was polishing Loki's helmet, as it would get a close up in the fighting scenes and someone - Tom - had left sticky fingerprints all over it. The perfectionist in me just couldn't have it, so I took it upon myself to make it shine again. It was just after lunch and I was sitting on the edge of a table, polishing the helmet with a rag.
When Tom walked over to me, his first remark had been 'Are you feeling horny, darling?', which I had dismissed with an eye roll, as one of the crewmembers had made the same joke a couple of minutes before. Instead, I asked him about the interviews he gave that morning, moving to rub the rag on the second horn of the helmet. Tom started to answer me, but unlike other times he wasn't that eloquent in his speech, he sounded distracted. "You know," he suddenly said, moving a little closer to me. There was a look in his eyes that I felt deep down in my stomach. "If you keep repeating that movement, it makes me want to do something a lot less innocent than just talking to you."

"Oh no, he didn't!" Paul squeals and jumps up and down on the couch. I swear he does jazz hands.
"Oh yes, he did," I answer my friend with a more or less straight face, holding in a fit of laughter. "And could you be any more gay right now?"
"I could, and you know it," Paul says, turning up the sass another notch before sitting down on the couch again. "However... I am more interested in what you did after he dropped that line!"
"Besides looking at him like I saw water burning?"
"Yes," Paul smirks. "Besides your usual look when you get some male attention."

I throw a pillow at him because he is right, I'm not much of a flirt. I can make a sassy remark or two, joke around with a guy, but my mind goes blank when the attention is for real.
"I was saved by the bell, Taika called for him." Paul mumbles something along the lines of 'party pooper'. "But what was I supposed to say to something like that? I've broken up with William only a week ago, we are still living in the same house. Why should I be chasing another guy?"

I'm voicing the feeling I have had all week. One of the things I realised after breaking up with William was that I would be 'back on the market' again. Maybe not right away, but I had yet to turn 30, it's not like I would stay alone for the rest of my life. At least, I hoped not! However, it had felt more safe ogling Tom when I was still in a relationship. Crushing on a major movie star is a lot less stupid when you know nothing's gonna come out of it anyway, whether he likes you back or not. When it's just a fantasy, it's safe. And after all, we are all entitled to our little fantasies.

Paul's voice takes me back to reality. "Vicky, if you like him, and he likes you, what's holding you back?"
"Oh, I don't know, maybe because the dead body of my relationship isn't even cold yet?" I'm giving my friend a defiant look.
"Come on... that relationship was in a coma for the past six months and you know it." Paul is serious now. "Diagnosis: braindead. Pulling the plug was the humane thing to do."

For the next few moments we just look at each other. I can feel the corner of my mouth twitch and Paul squints his eyes a little. We can hold it back for another ten seconds before we roll off the couch, laughing our butts off.

When he catches his breath again, Paul takes my hand. "Seriously, honey. You don't have to marry the guy. It can be just a good ol' night of fun between the sheets." He puts his pinky up in front of me. "Just promise me you don't let the past hold you back when you have the chance to get all hot and bothered with Tom."
I hook my pinky in his. "Pinky swear."