Twelve Red Roses (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

Chapter 34- Laundry

"You can do this," Tom says, his hand outstretched towards me. My phone lay in his palm, unlocked and in the contacts app.

"Can I?" I ask softly, almost to myself.

"What's the worst that can happen over a small check-in?"

"Well a lot has happened, Tom. For example, I slept with my traveling partner, whom no one in my family even knew I had."

He nods lightly, looking down at his hand.

"It's just... I don't think my mom believes in sleeping with men without being in a serious relationship. Heck, I don't think she believes in sex before marriage."

"It'll be okay."

"Is that all you have to say about anything?" I mutter.

"Cass, I really am trying to help," he insists gently, his blue eyes looking into mine.

I sigh. "I know. Listen, I'm going to take this..." I take my phone from his hand finally. "And I'm going to call my mom in the bathroom."

"No, I'll go in the bathroom if you need me to. You need to be comfortable while talking to her. Lie on the bed, if you'd like." He motions to the bed from the small love-seat we sit on. I just put my hand over his, smiling at him.

"Tom, it's fine. Thank you. I'll take the bathroom, and you can call your mom out here."

"Okay. Feel free to come out whenever you want." He grins lightly. "Whatever I say to my mum, I don't mind saying in front of you."

"That's sweet of you," I answer with a smirk. "I'll come out in a bit, then. After I get past the yelling."

He laughs softly, his body and face moving closer to me. "She won't yell at you. Why would she?"

I press a single kiss to his lips before standing, and making my way to the bathroom. Why am I so nervous? I know that if I don't call now, I may never will. So I quickly find her in my contacts, and press call.

One ring.

Am I starting to sweat? No, I can't possibly be sweating this soon.

Two rings.

What am I supposed to do with my hands? Play with my hair? Run them along the bathroom counter? Mess with the small boxes of complimentary soap bars?

Three rings.

That means I'll get her voicemail, right?

I'm not sure whether I should be disappointed or happy. No... I should be disappointed. This is my mother we're talking about.

But then she picks up at the last minute.

"Cassidy, dear," she speaks, her voice sounding gentle. It's been a while since I've even heard her voice. "How is your trip?"

"It- It's wonderful, mom." I'm sort of surprised we've jumped right into the questions and catching-up time. "I'm having a lot of fun."

"I'm glad, sweetie," she speaks.

"I'm really sorry I didn't call before."

"And I'm sorry I haven't been too supportive for you and this trip of yours. Is there anything you need at all? It must be rather lonely, traveling by yourself," she rants for a bit, asking the usual 'mom' questions.

"I'm not traveling alone, actually."

"What do you mean?" She asks.

"Well," I start, "I've met someone, mother. A man."