Hello Again (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

February 2013: Uneventful

Valentine’s Day.  Who needs it? Not me.

I duck my head as I walk as fast as possible to the coffee shop, which is only about a block from my flat.  I go there pretty often, as I’m in love with their scones and they always have comfy little spots to sit.  I usually go on my way to work, and I almost always stop in at least once on the weekends.  It seemed like a good idea when I woke up.  Brush off the cobwebs, and the slight “woe is me” feeling on this horrid holiday, with a fancy coffee drink and a scone.  I could sit in the shop, look out the window and people watch.  I could smile brightly, and look perfectly happy and content to be there alone, watching all the other lovely couples canoodle down the sidewalk.

But then I stepped outside, and it nearly felt like it was sub zero temperatures.  And the wind was blowing hard, making my eyes water. And the sight of couples in love made me feel a bit like gagging.  Either way, I hurried onward.  What else was I going to do with my free Saturday? I had made sure to be off weeks ago, thinking Tom would be in town, but now he was filming still, thousands of miles away and I suddenly had a whole day that was empty and open.

Coffee. Angry people watching.  Maybe a movie—something bloody and violent, not romantic, and then take out.  Chinese. No, perhaps curry.

After I get my coffee and a scone, I settle in at one of the seats near the window.  I don’t want to see all the lovey dovey couples, but I’m also a bit of a masochist, so I turn slightly to look outside. 

Tom had called me late last night, having just gotten off of work.  It was mid afternoon where he was, but he was exhausted from shooting all day. We hadn’t talked long.  He’d been tired and leaving the set, and I’d been half asleep.

“I hope you have a good day tomorrow.  I’ll be thinking about you.” He said easily.  I smiled, closing my eyes.

“Get some sleep.”

“With you, I wish.” He chuckled softly.

“Mmm.” I moaned softly in agreement. 

“What are your plans for tomorrow?” He asked.

“Not much really.  Coffee, maybe a movie.  In bed early.” I sighed.  He laughed in reply, as it wasn’t much different than a normal day for me.  We spoke for a few minutes more, before he apologized and said he needed to go get some rest. It was how many of our conversations went.  Like two ships passing in the night.  I didn’t mind it though. 

It’s warm in the shop, and comfortably busy.  Enough people to be interesting, but not packed or crowded.  I get comfortable, drinking idly and nibbling on my breakfast.  I count three couples holding hands.  Four couples kiss. One couple glaring angrily at each other.  And one couple who are perhaps still getting to know each other.  Maybe not on a first date, but definitely one of the early ones.  I smile to myself and wonder where Tom and I would fall, if he were here.

We’ve still not really discussed it.  He’s not dating anyone, I know that for a fact.  And I’m not.  Of course not.  We talk daily, even if it’s just a text message to say hello.  But I haven’t seen him in nearly two months, and I can practically feel the ache in my bones when I hear his voice.  It didn’t used to feel like this.  I used to go for huge, long periods of time without seeing him.  He’d pass through my mind like clouds through the sky, and then I’d go on with my day.  Now, I find myself thinking of him more often than not. 

I’d like to think that if he were here now, he’d be sitting next to me, drinking his tea and trying to convince me to buy him another cookie.  Or maybe we wouldn’t even be here.  Maybe we’d still be home, in my tiny flat, intertwined together in bed.  Yes, ah. That’s more like it.