Just Like That

The next month had been somewhat of a blur as the two of you settled into a cozy routine. When summer came, you were free from work obligations and instead could work independently from the comfort of your home on different projects. It gave you the flexibility of changing your hours to match Tom’s. 

Tom. Even the thought of him brought a smile to your face. It was incredible how close two people could become although never having met. He had talked you through the heartache of a school year ending. You had talked over his career decisions with him—despite the conversations having to be vague, which you understood completely. Besides, if he had told you anything specific about his projects, you didn’t know if you could contain your “fangirling” tendencies. Gushing over the man to the man was a bit much.

The phone calls couldn’t occur nearly as often as either of you would like, only because you both had the awful habit of never wanting to get off the phone. After the third night in a row speaking on the phone late into the evening, the five in the morning wake-up call was unbearable for Tom. You forced him to go to bed at a reasonable hour, and you both decided that you would leave Friday and Saturday nights for long chats.

However, that didn’t stop you from letting him know you were thinking about him. Once you found out that Tom had two phones (one for business and one for personal) and his personal one (the one you had access to) was always set to Do Not Disturb as he was sleeping, you formed an idea. Just as you were about to settle in for the night, you would call his phone. It would go directly to Tom’s voicemail.

“Good morning, Mr. Hiddleston. I do hope you have a lovely day, being a very busy man,” your mock gravitas dripping from your words. “Seriously though,” you added with a grin. “I hope you have a wonderful morning and your day goes as smoothly as possible. I’ll talk to you later.”

Sometimes it would be immediately or an hour later before you would receive a response. You couldn’t lose. He knew you’d be sleeping soon, so his replies were always in the form of texts. Your favorite responses were those that greeted you as you woke, waiting on your phone. The ones that always held some sort of invitation or need for you to be in his presence…

I have a cup of coffee with your name on it. xo Tom  

Or…

Why do I feel as though Bobby would have behaved for you at the park this morning, but not me? xo Tom  

Or your absolute favorite…

I would have preferred to wake up to you here… xo Tom

He was a charmer, that’s for sure. You were even beginning to believe he actually meant what he said. This wasn’t all some sort of time killer for him. He chose to talk to you. He chose to involve you in his life. 

Today’s voicemail would be different though. It was Friday or—it was Friday for Tom , to be precise. Your favorite day. You already had movie suggestions for you two to watch together. It was Tom’s turn to decide what you’d both attempt cooking first—although it was a known fact that neither of you were skilled. He was always heavy handed with the spices and you never had the patience to measure anything out. Still, it was an activity and made it feel as though you were together. 

As you snuggled deep into your bedding, you prepared yourself to call the actor. You pressed his name in your phone, Tom, dear and waited for it to go straight to the messages.

“Good morning, Y/N!” Tom nearly shouted into the receiver, causing you to flinch. There was obviously noise in the background, causing him to talk a bit louder than usual. The sense of excitement and energy was palpable as well. You’d heard this level before, but there was something slightly off about it all.

“Hey there…,” you greeted, sitting back up in bed as the confusion took over. “You’re already up?”

“That I am!” a quick response before he held the phone away to answer a question from someone passing by. You couldn’t quite pick-up on what he was saying, except the tone. It was that same energetic, bubbly persona that had taken over him. “What was that, love?”

It took you a minute to realize he was talking to you. “Oh, I didn’t say anything,” but it was your turn to wonder if he heard you. “Are you working?” finding yourself questioning loudly into your silent apartment.

“Hm? Yes! Remember? We have the Loki featurettes to record today. A couple interviews in person as well!” Tom laughed, a muttering of greetings to another person walking past him.

Tom had told you about this weeks ago, but honestly when summer hit, you barely knew what month it was let alone what day. The time difference also added a bit to the confusion. He had been excited for this for quite some time. It was one of the first sets of interviews and recordings he had done in person since before either of you had first spoken to one another. You both shared the commonality that your profession dictated your mood. To go for too long without it? You became sullen and more easily persuaded into the darkness. His excitement now brought a grin to your face.

“You’re going to have the best—,” you began to say.

“Oh, darling. I have missed you! You’re positively glowing,” Tom rang out—but he clearly wasn’t speaking to you. You didn’t catch exactly what the other person said, although you did catch that the recipient was female . You also clearly heard Tom call her darling . Anyone with a pulse… Then, you heard the clear kiss, kiss sounds of a cheek to cheek welcome. “It’s been ages!”

“Tom?!” your voice rising an octave, although you were trying to sound calm. Had Tom not been surrounded by people, he would have noticed your distress. “I was thinking we could watch Chariots of Fire for our Friday night. I know it’s a favorite.”

“ Darling ,--.” You braced yourself for him to be referring to someone else. Honestly, that would have been preferred compared to what he did say. “I don’t think I’ll be able to make it tonight. I’ve already been up for two hours. It’s supposed to be a full day. We were all planning on grabbing dinner this evening as well. I wouldn’t want you to wait around for me, especially when I’ll be an exhausted grump,” he apologized, but even his apology sounded happy. 

“No, no. That makes total sense,” and it did. However, that didn’t make up for the fact that you were hurting . It was the first time that work had ever come between you and Tom. Plenty of times, Tom had had to call it a night early and you understood. Hell, you understood this now. Did that stop you from being hurt? No. It certainly did not. 

What was worse was the frustration forming deep within your belly. He called someone else darling. He commented on someone else glowing . He was choosing to spend his time with someone else, and not you—on your night together. The absolute worst part? You were mad at yourself. You had gotten your hopes up that this would all be different. That this meant something. Your anger was with yourself, but you directed it at someone else entirely.

“That’s fine! I can make plans. See some friends,” you assured him.

“That’s a wonderful idea!”

“I haven’t seen David in a bit. We usually have dinner once every few months. It’s about that time,” you added casually. You were met with background noise on Tom’s end.

“Sorry—what was that? You said you’re getting dinner with who?” You knew that tone though. He heard you perfectly well. Right now, he was likely leaning over, covering his ear, and making sure he heard every syllable you uttered.

“I said I should phone up David,” and you may have spoken louder than necessary.

“Your ex, David?” he clarified. He knew which one.

“My friend , David. We like to keep in touch.” Even as you were saying it, you knew it was a low blow.

“Yes. Right. Very well,” as Tom turned into Mr. Darcy—the way he did when something truly bothered him.

“I hope you—”

“I need to go. I imagine I’ll be too busy to send texts today and I wouldn’t want to interrupt your time with your friend .” You weren’t given enough time to respond to his tone before he continued on. “Feel free to check out the interviews on YouTube in a few hours. It always amazes me how quickly they get those posted,” he rattled on, doing his best not to show his anger. Again, you weren’t given a chance to add to the conversation before a quick “Bye” and click ended the call.

That was it? That was all he had to say? Watch his interviews? You ignored his tone and assumed he was perfectly fine with you getting dinner with your ex, while he was off kissing other darlings .

Fine. That’s great. You certainly weren’t going to wait around for him. So— you pulled up Instagram’s messenger feature (ignoring that the last message you sent was to Tom before you exchanged numbers) and found David’s account.

cgfan0820

Dinner tomorrow?

His reply was near instantaneous.

krazedcat

Have you been thinking about me a lot at night?

This ought to be good.

Our place. Tomorrow at five thirty.

And just like that … you had a date with your ex.