Twelve Red Roses (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

Chapter 23- Pizza and Roses

Tom seemed very happy when we talked about dreams. Even though he had accomplished his dream of acting, he still had many more. Whenever he was successful with one, he'd think of another.

"So what's your current dream, then, Mr. Hiddleston?" I ask with a smile. I now felt happier as well. Talking about dreams actually helped me with thinking of a few for myself. I became hopeful for my future. I looked forward to my future.

"I'd like to be a dad."

Well I wasn't expecting that.

"Don't you have to get married first?" I ask with a laugh.

He laughs. "I know that. I guess getting married is a dream of mine, too. Meeting the right girl. But I really want to be a dad."

Reason #249 why Tom and I aren't meant for each other. I feel as if I've just started my life, and here Tom is, ready to settle down. He's done so much more in his life, though, and has so much to show for it.

"You'll be a wonderful dad," I answer with a smile.

He grins. "I hope so." I feel His gaze on me, so I look back at him. "What's your dream, then, have you decided?"

"I think so. I'd like to travel more. And I'd like to write all of it down. Perhaps post it somewhere. I write articles for a living right now." I sigh lightly, realizing I'm saying a little more than I'd like to. But I'm not finished yet. "And I want to get a boyfriend. I don't even care if I like him or not. I just want to meet someone exciting and not dull, and someone who would rather read than play football, and I want to take them home. I want to take them home to my mother and prove to her that I can meet someone out of my small town who is nice. And then I'll probably dump them, I don't know."

He lets out a small laugh. "Well that was unexpected."

"I tend to be that way."

"So I've noticed." We stop at another painting. We still examined them as we walked from each one to the next, we just didn't really talk about them like we were in the beginning. "I have yet to figure you out, Cass," he remarks. "You're just... a puzzle."

I purse my lips lightly. "I don't mean to be. I try to be as simple as possible."

"It's not a bad thing. See, here's a good example. I've told you you're simple before, mostly in the way that you strive to just make the best out of life. That's all you seem to truly wish for, and I admire that. But there's also so much about you that I haven't learned yet. No one can just figure you out immediately. It takes time. And there's just no fun in figuring out someone so quickly. The fun part about becoming closer is slowly peeling back all of their layers until they're just exposed to you, and trust you no matter what."

"And then what, you use their secrets against them?" I grin. "No, I'm kidding. But God, I'm way behind on figuring you out. Do you read from index cards or something? You just... You speak beautifully, to be honest."

He smiles lightly. "It's just years of experience, I guess. Acting has its perks."

I watch Tom as his smile grows wider in my direction, then he looks back to the painting in front of us. I wonder how many layers of Tom I've peeled away? If any? And how many layers have I allowed him to peel off from me? How deep can the both of us get before we part?

"Can I write about you?" I ask.

Tom's attention is turned back to me, and he looks surprised.

"Not you exactly, but... You with a different name. If I wrote about this."

"It depends..." He murmurs, his hand going to his chin. His index finger traced over his bottom lip lightly.

Oh, here we go. Will he list off terms and conditions? Tell me I'll have to ask his manager, Luke? Will he just say no completely?