Tom Hiddleston Imagines

#16

Your day couldn't have been going worse. Your car wouldn't start because your engine decided to stop working which made you show up to work an hour late. Since you were late, you missed the biggest meeting of the year for your company. Your boss yelled at you once you arrived at work, didn't let you explain why you were late, and treated you harshly for the rest of the day. Everyone else at your job apparently heard the news of you not showing up and either ignored you or spat insults at you as you walked by. When it was time to go home, all the cabbies decided to not pick you up but when one did, he smelt bad and took the longer route back to your house.

Once you were home, you couldn't help the tears that began to stream down your face. After about an hour of crying, your eyes became dry so you just sat curled up in your bed staring at the wall.

"Oh, [Y/N]," you hear your husband's sing-songy voice enter the front door downstairs. You ignore him and continue to sulk. "[Y/N]?" Tom's voice becomes closer as he walks up the stairs toward your shared bedroom. You wrap yourself in your comforter so he doesn't see your red eyes. "Darling?" Tom stands at your bedroom doorway and slowly makes his way to your bed. "Are you alright?" He begins to stroke your shoulder since your head is still covered.

"Go away," you almost whisper. Instead of accepting your request, he lays down and snuggles next to you as best as possible.

Tom unwraps your head from the covers and kisses your cheek. "What happened?" He snuggles deeper into your neck.

"I don't want to talk about it," you begin to bury your face in your pillow.

With a sigh, Tom stands up and leaves you alone. You feel bad for giving him the cold shoulder but you didn't want to make your day worse by fighting with him.

You stay in bed for another 45 or so minutes until you hear Tom's footsteps walk into your bedroom. "You don't have to tell me what happened," he walks toward your side of the bed and places a tray on your night table, "but that doesn't mean I can't make you feel better." He puts a movie in your TV, climbs into bed, and grabs you to sit you up straight.

"Tom," your voice cracks slightly.

"Shh," he grabs the tray which you see has Alfredo pasta, asparagus, bread, and two cups of red wine. "Your job is to eat and relax." The title screen for Dirty Dancing appears on your TV. "I love you," Tom kisses your forehead before he takes his cup of wine.

The first smile of the day spreads across your face. "Thank you so much," a single tear runs down your cheek; thankfully it's a tear of joy.

You never fully understood why Tom wanted to spend the rest of his life with you but you were grateful that he did. You wouldn't know what you would do without him to pick you up when you're down.