The Taming of the Shrew

About Oliver...

Tom's POV

I rip open the curtains and pull the covers off of Beth. Time to get up. I look around her room that is now bathed in light. I love her apartment. Its one of those places that make you feel at home as soon as you enter it. She jolts awake and shields her face from the light of the sun.

"Time to get up, love." I say, crawling onto the bed and kissing her forehead quickly. She groan/screams and rubs her eyes.

"Fuck off, Hiddleston." She says in her adorable morning voice. I chuckle and stand up walking over to her bedside table and picking up her phone, flicking through her notifications on the screen. Hm, mostly text messages. Rob, Rob, Rob, Rob, Rob, Rob, Rob, Natasha, Natasha, Ben, Ben, Ben, Meg, Hemsworth...i freeze as i look at the next name. Oli. Jesus christ, this cannot end well. I glance over at Beth, head buried in the pillow, hungover.

"Darling?" I ask her hesitantly, eyes still glued to her phone. She doesnt move. Jesus, how much did she drink?

"Mm?" She grunts in reply. I shake off the laugh bubbling in my throat and get back on topic. What would he want? He said just last night that they barely ever talk. Wouldnt yesterday have been enough? I cant help but wonder what happened between them to make them so distant if they were so close?

"Can we talk about Oliver?" I ask. Her head slowly comes up. She rolls over and sits up against the headboard, hugging her legs. I take a deep breath. She sighs and tucks that same piece of hair behind her ear, only for it to fall again.

"Why?" She asks. I sit on the bed next to her and relax against the headboard. I interlock my fingers with hers and look out of the window ahead that allows us to look over New York. Amazing view.

"Because until yesterday i was under the impression that you were an only child." I say bitterly, glancing over at her. She pinches the bridge of her nose, then rakes back her hair.

"Maybe i gave you that impression, Thomas...because i wanted you to believe that." She snaps at me. I let go of her hand and sit up straighter, moving to face her. Where did that come from?

"No need to get snappy, love. Its just a simple question." I say calmly. She fixes her posture, staring like daggers in my skin. A fierce look brushes across her face, and thats when i realise: i've hit a nerve. Oh god help me.

"No need to--no need to get fucking snappy? A simple fucking question? Are you fucking joking?" She says slowly; frustratedly. Yep, definitely hit a nerve. I take a deep breath and prepare myself for one hell of a rage overflow. Why cant i just leave things? Her tired eyes and red, glassy and smeared with black eyeliner from yesterday. Her hair falls gently, but is still messy with the essence of last nights antics. She looks a wreck. Beautiful, but still not herself at all.

"I had to speak at my mothers funeral yesterday, Thomas. Im hungover as all fucking hell; there is a fucking planet bouncing on my skull and a Mexican band playing at full fucking volume inside of my head. You know im fucking hungover and not particularly as okay as usual and you come in here and fucking question me about my older fucking brother? Wow." She spits out. I sigh and rub my eyes.

"I understand you're going through a lot right now, darling, and im truly sorry but why hide the fact that you have a sibling? What happened to make you do that?" I ask her, trying to be as understanding as possible. I shouldnt have said anything. I should have just left it. She stares at me for a moment before standing up with her pillow and walking out of her room. I follow behind her.

"You have to tell me sooner or later, Beth." I say, following her into the living room. She turns around frustratedly.

"I dont have to fucking tell you anything if i dont want to, Tom. I kept it from you this long, i can keep it from you longer. You know what?" She picks up her car keys and walks over to the door. Oh for fuck sake, what is this?