Wonderfully Random One Shots - A Bleaker Existence

Your Kind of Love - Tom Hiddleston One Shot

TITLE: Your Kind of Love

Character(s): Actor!Tom, OC named Kris and OC named Andrea

Genre: Angst

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Kris has to make a decision on whether or not she should stay with Tom even though he hasn't been faithful.

Warnings: Strong and graphic language. Inspired by Beyonce's song Jealous.

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Krista clicked open the text message and looked at the picture that had been sent to her phone. It was out of focus and the pixelation made it gritty —but it was him. Unmistakable.

Hm. She thought she'd feel... something. Like she'd been punched in the throat, kicked in the gut and shoved into oncoming traffic. She thought her eyes would burn, that that she'd be angry enough to claw off her own skin. But, no. No, the parts of her that used to ache for him had long since rotted away, the withered remains only reminders of a mistake she'd never make again.

Some part of Krista did still want to scream til her voice gave o it, til her vocal chords ripped themselves apart. Part of her wanted to throw the vase on the table into the wall and watch it shatter into a million razor sharp shards. Some part of her did want to introduce Tom's best suits to the heavy-duty bleach in the laundry room. Some part of her, some minuscule voice, whispered that she should find this girl and make her hurt as much as she was hurting right now.

But the other part of her, the more sensible—the more tired—was eerily calm. Hollowed like the tree in the garden outside.

The friends and family that weren't obsessed with the money or blinded by the fame had warned her months before the wedding. "It was in the news just the other day, Kris. All's I'm saying is maybe you should reconsider what you're getting yourself into." "What about after you're married and there's kids involved, huh? You really want your kid growing up seeing his dad in these gross pictures that will be on the front page of every magazine? What kind of life is that?" "He's a nice man, honey, he is—but do you think he'll ever choose anyone other than himself? Will he ever choose you?" And when it became too painful for them to watch, most left her to her choice to stay.

Well, now was time for her to choose something else. Her own sanity or this insane life? She'd worn the right heels, waxed til she bled, went to the gym five times a week with trainers he'd used in the Avengers. She didn't eat meat, she had her own business and had learned to fill the void her estranged family left with a job she loved. She knew how to smile at all his parties, even though she could barely stand to be in those rooms where outsiders were rarely welcomed warmly and she felt like an expensive piece on display. She knew how to cope with the hate-filled letters his publicist sometimes would miss in the latest batch of fan mail, and whatever other thorns that seemed to come with her rosy Hollywood life. For five years, she'd done everything right, only now to discover that it would truly never be enough for him—or for her.

But you're not stupid, Krista reminds herself quickly when she feels her throat closing in. You're not stupid. But you are done.

She threw back the rest of the vodka in her shot glass before pouring another shot that was downed just as quickly. Then, with a sigh, she picked up her phone to a dial a number she hadn't used in almost five years.

It only rang twice before her older sister answered.

"Krista? Hey, what's going on? You in trouble? You better be dying 'cause it's three in the morning, kid."