Tom/Loki Imagines

Tom-Saviour

A/N GUYS LIKE 12 OF YOU VOTED ON THE LAST CHAPTER AND DIDN'T SEND ME ANYTHING I NEED SERIOUS INSPIRATION. PLEASE READ THE LAST CHAPTER TO HELP WITH FUTURE IMAGINES.

Just so you know this is a little different because I used first person for this one so I could write her, or your, emotions better. Hope you enjoy!

Life. It's a precious concept. A person takes an average of 25,000 breaths a day. A person has dreams, beliefs, feelings. All these factors come together to make what we consider a soul. But what if you don't believe you have a soul anymore? I still breathe, maybe more that 25,000 times a day. I still dream about my life getting back on track. I still have beliefs but they fade with time. Feelings though. Pshhh, what are they? I'm numb. Numb, cold and alone. Yet, when I think things can only get better, they manage to get worse.

Waking up groggy from a night of broken sleep, I looked at the clock to find it was 6am. His clothes were still scattered around the floor, his side of the bed cold and empty, and our relationship left in tatters. I stepped out of bed and manoeuvred around the shattered photo frame I had chucked after he left. Stopping by the mirror, I stared at myself intently seeing nothing but sadness. The mascara stains down my face said it all, but I knew it was pointless in attempting to remove things that would only reappear when my feelings return. I shivered as I struggled to recognise my usually optimistic self and I leant down to pick up one of his jumpers on the floor before covering myself in his warmth and scent.

Plodding into the kitchen, I opened the cupboards like a robot out of habit but found nothing I wished to eat. Just as I decided I wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep the day away on the sofa, there was a knock at the door. I felt the tears begin to prick the corners of my eyes knowing who it was immediately. Just from the way he knocked.

He had come for me. Just for me. He had flown half way across the globe just to comfort me. But I had told him not to. I didn't want him to see me like this, like someone else. So I ignored him. I was a wreck. I knew it was selfish, but I needed space, time, to cry and feel as if no one was judging me.

"Y/N," his voice called out softly and his beautiful British accent shone through.

I took in a deep breath, considering opening the door.

"Sweetheart, I just want to make sure you're okay. Please let me in."

Biting my lip, to stop the cascading flow of tears that I could feel were on the verge of erupting down my old mascara stained cheeks, my phone rang. Pausing to consider my options, I decided to check who it was. Knowing Tom knew I was here anyway, I may as well check. The caller ID was unknown and for some stupid reason, in that moment, I pressed the 'Answer' button.

"Y/N?" The high pitched, recognisable, female voice spoke softly and it made me want to throw up.

I said nothing, instead listened to the soft sounds of her breath and the gentle knocking from Tom. Yet everything seemed so loud. I wanted to scream. It was her. He preferred to listen to her breaths as he fell asleep, he preferred to listen to her voice telling him those three sweet words and it broke me.

"I know this is hard for the both of us, I just wanted to check if you were okay. He wants to come and collect his things tomorrow if that's okay with you and I'd like to see you."

I chuckled darkly, "don't bother. I'll send his stuff to you. I don't want to see either of you ever again, sis."

I felt the lump in my throat as I ended the call without waiting to hear her response and threw my phone at the nearest wall. It shattered and made a louder noise than I had intended.