The Taming of the Shrew

Fuck.

*3 weeks later*

Elizabeth's POV

"Beth, come on, love. You have to get up." I hear Tom say gently from beside my bed. I groan and roll over, throwing a second pillow over my head. I hear the curtains rattle open. Tom, i love you, you're a great guy, but you gotta get the fuck out before i throttle you. The pillow i just buried rather forcefully on top of my head shoots off of me, causing my eyes to flick open, stinging with the light of the sun. Ah, fuck, it burns. I just want to fucking sleep.

"Get out." I moan in my fucked up morning voice. He chuckles and sits in the beanbag chair in the corner.

"We're going to be late, love. Either you get up now or i get you up myself." He says. I roll my eyes and sit up a little.

"Fight me, Hiddleston." I croak out from under 5 blankets with no intention of moving at all. Tom laughs and walks over to me, taking my hand in his and pulling me up onto my knees. I let out a few tired sobs and hang my head. He gently elevates my head to look up into his eyes.

"May i just say, you look beautiful, darling." He says suddenly, seeming genuine. Really? He smiles softly. He's joking. He has to be. I scoff and shove him softly. He laughs and reaches for a shirt resting on my night stand, throwing it at me.

"You have exactly 10 minutes to get dressed, and dont bother falling back to sleep. I'll be back to check on you." He says, walking out of my room and closing the door. I groan and get up, throwing on my jeans, a grey t-shirt that i dont even bother looking at, and quickly tie up my hightop converse. I cant do this. I cant. Its too fucking early for this. I chuck my hair up into a messy bun, pieces of my soft brown hair falling and framing my face. I glance over at my bed. So fucking beautiful.

"Fuck it." I crawl back into bed and throw the covers over me. Oh, sweet jesus, i belong here. A few minutes pass and i feel myself drifting off until...

"Oh christ, have you even moved?" Tom asks from the door way. I open one eye and glare at him. He walks over and throws the covers off of me, checking to see if im dressed. I moan in protest and roll over.

"We should invest in walkie talkies." I say suddenly, defeatedly sitting up, my legs dangling off of the bed. Tom leans back against the wall next to the window and folds his arms. He chuckles.

"Why's that?" He asks. I rub my eyes and stretch.

"So i dont have to fucking go to work. I can just walkie talkie you. You have makeup in 20 minutes? Notification by walkie talkie. They're filming a different scene than planned today? Ill just use my walkie talkie to tell you that. Lines in the script changed? Walkie mother fucking talkie up in this bitch. All from the comfort of my bed." I say slowly. Tom laughs and helps me up.

"Revolutionary, sweet girl. Absolutely revolutionary." He remarks sarcastically. I smirk and start walking towards the bathroom, Tom following. I turn around and my eyes meet directly with his.

"Quit following me, dork." I chuckle. He smirks.

"Fine. Im going to make myself tea, then we leave. Oh. And by the way, love, Rob called. Told me to tell you that he landed safely and he'll talk to you soon." He says. I nod and smile, turning back around and continuing towards the bathroom. I hear Tom's footsteps descend down the stairs and towards the kitchen. I quickly brush my teeth and rinse my mouth. I stare at my reflection. My black eye is barely even there anymore and the wounds on my arm are fully healed. My busted knuckles are now just marked by small grazes, in the process of becoming scars. I can almost pass as normal. Fuck yeah. I walk out of the bathroom and begin my descent down the stairs. I take a deep breath, realising that today is the day. Ive decided that im going to tell Tom how i feel. I cant just go on knowing that im falling more and more in love with him and him being completely oblivious to it. I dont even fucking care if he doesnt feel the same. As long as he knows. I smirk and take a deep breath as i reach the bottom of the stairs and walk to the kitchen. This is it, no backing out, Elizabeth.