For the Love (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

Chapter 25

    A/N: Hi everyone! Sorry for the delay. Writers block and life got in the way. I hope you can forgive me and I hope you enjoy! Let me know :) I've really enjoyed all your comments.  Some of them are hilarious! Also, big thanks to @katnisseverqxeen for the new cover! So sweet of you! -S

        Emie felt hersef being pulled from a deep, hectic sleep.  She felt as if she were being yanked out of tar—like her brain and her body were at war.  Her body wanted to return to the waking world, while her mind was still in need of the replenishing, healing cocoon of sleep.
       “Emeline. Emie. EMIE!” She felt someone shaking her and calling to her, but their voice sounded like they were deep under water.  She stirred, her consciousness coming slowly into a blurry focus.  Emie opened her eyes, and her vision was filled with his face. Tom.  His gorgeous, comforting, warm face.  She felt her heart pounding, and she started to sit up, despite feeling groggy.  She felt relief wash over her at seeing him.  She somehow felt comforted just having him nearby.  Her dreams last night had taken their toll on her.
       “Oh, Tom.” She said softly.  He hushed her, sitting down on the edge of her bed.  He reached for her, hesitantly at first, but then he touched her bare shoulder.
       “Are you alright? I’ve been waiting for you.” He said gently. Emie frowned, feeling completely disconnected at hearing him murmur the same words she’d thought last night in her exhausted stupor.  It took her a moment to realize what he was talking about.  Running.  They were supposed to take a run together that morning.
       “I’m so, so sorry.” She shook her head, running a hand through her messy hair.  Emie glanced at the clock.  It was nearly half past eight.  She was supposed to have met him at eight a.m.
       “It’s fine, Em.  It’s fine.  Are you alright?” Tom asked again.  Emie sighed, lying back down on the bed, pressing her hands to her face.  She was exhausted, and everything seemed to hurt. 
       Emie thought back to the day before.  After they had escaped from Vicky’s incessant talking and overt flirting, both of them had run straight into the bathwater warm lagoon. Emie dove under and Tom followed after her. She’d come up feeling refreshed and looking around for Tom.  He came up a moments later, a few yards away.
       “Want to take a swim?” He asked her, nodding off toward toward the horizon.  She nodded, but didn’t say anything.  She just slipped back into the water, falling into a moderate crawl stroke next to him.  Tom was much more athletic than she was, but Emie was able to keep up with his rhythmic stroke as they cut through the water together.  They swam parallel to the shore, gliding through the completely transparent water.  They swam in silence for quite some time, until Emie started to feel her muscles burn and beg her to stop.  It felt good to move, though.
       She started to slow down, and Tom must have sensed her movements because he slowed as well.  He began to swim slow, lazy circles around her.  Emie smiled, settling into a backstroke, her gaze up toward the perfect blue sky.  She swam that way, not caring which way she was going for a few minutes, until her vision of the clear sky was blocked by the dark outline of Tom’s profile.  He blocked out the afternoon sun.
       “Want to head back? I’m starving.” He asked.  She couldn’t see his face, and his voice was muffled from the water in her ears.  Emie stood up, the water sluicing down her shoulders and chest.  They were pretty far out from the shore, but the water only came up to just below her breasts.
       “Sure.” She nodded.  She felt the fatigue in her arms and legs, and realized she probably shouldn’t have skipped all those runs lately.
       “Are you tired?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.
       “I’m not as fit as you.” She said with a smile.  He grinned.
       “Let me tow you back, then.” He turned his back to her, and sunk lower into the water.  She laughed, but obliged, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck and shoulders.  She kicked her legs out behind them, and let Tom pull her slowly through the lagoon.  With her face so close to the back of his neck, she could smell the beach on him, she could see the wetness of his hair, and the way it curled under the weight of the water.  She was also acutely aware of the way she had to press her breasts against his bare back.  She fought every urge to press her lips to the back of his neck and his muscular shoulders.
       “Do you want to get dinner with me tonight?” He asked softly. It was the first time she’d ever heard him sound unsure, worried.  She hesitated, opening her mouth, but nothing came out.
       “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” His voice was apologetic, and a bit embarrassed. 
       “Tom, I can’t right now.” She said gently.  He nodded.  She couldn’t see his face, which made it all the harder. Emie let go of his neck, slipping into the water.  He turned, looking at her, his blue eyes full but guarded. She felt the need to lighten the mood.  She felt like she needed to protect herself, but also him. 
       “You could ask Vicky.” She said with a grin, knowing full well that she would rather die than see him go anywhere with that woman.  Tom was good natured enough to smile, and shake his head. 
       “No.” He said firmly, swimming backwards so he could watch Emie as she swam forward.  Emie forced a smile. 
       “What? She’s not your type?” She teased, grinning at him.  Tom pursed his lips for a second, then frowned.  His lips turned and he shook his head.
       “I thought my type was pretty obvious.” He said, his face serious.  Emie swallowed, looking away.  She dipped under the water, swimming for a few yards under the cool, calming water. 
       After they had gotten back to the beach, Tom had asked if she wanted to take a run that next morning and she had agreed to that.  Then, they had split ways.  Tom had said something about grabbing dinner, and Emie just nodded.  As she had been walking away, back to her room, she had seen Vicky making a beeline for Tom as he’d left the beach.  Emie had returned to her room that night, her stomach feeling sour.  It was most likely what had led her to those horrible dreams.
       “Emie? I was worried when you didn’t show up this morning.  I figured you’d just slept in, but when I got here, you doors were wide open.” Tom said, and Emie was pulled from her thoughts.  He gestured toward her French doors.  She’d forgotten to close them last night after trying to cool off.
       “I was hot last night.” She uncovered her face, and looked down, suddenly remembering what she was, or in this case wasn’t, wearing.  Thankfully, her towel had somehow stayed put.  It was still wrapped around her, only showing the majority of her bare thighs. 
       “To be honest, you scared the shit out of me, Em.  I came in here and you were sprawled out on the bed.  You wouldn’t wake up.” He looked at her with concern all over her face.  Emie sat up, smoothing back her hair.
       “I’m really sorry.  I didn’t sleep much last night, and had some terrible dreams.” She said.  She swung her legs over the side of the bed, holding the bath towel to her chest.  Tom sat next to her, in his running shorts and gray t shirt.  His long, muscular runner’s legs stretched out in front of him.
       “Do you want to talk about it?” He asked.  Emie looked at him.  He turned to her.  His hands clasped in his lap, his shoulders hunched slightly.  Things were so confusing at the moment.  She hadn’t been able to sort anything out in her head.  All she could think about—more like dwell on and obsess over, was the fact that she didn’t see how this could go anywhere.  They led different lives.  And although Tom tried to keep his personal life as private as possible, she knew it would inevitably be leaked.  But here she was, sitting inches away from him on her bed, wearing only a damp towel and messy hair, and all she could do was see the way he looked at her.  How could she ever come to terms with the fact that those looks may be numbered?
       “No, it was just a silly dream.” She said softly.  Tom nodded.  He’d been much more reserved since they’d gotten back from the boat trip, and rightly so. 
       “Okay, Em.  I’ll give you some space.” He said softly, and then moved to leave.  Emie moved without thinking, suddenly needing to feel him touch her.  After her terrible night, she could only think of one thing. 
       “Tom.” The words slipped from her lips.  He turned, and she went right into his arms, not waiting for him to offer.  She slipped her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his chest.  Tom tensed for a barely noticeable moment before wrapping his arms around her and enveloping her in a hug.  Emie breathed in his familiar scent.  She felt her body relax instinctively as he held her.  Even if her brain wouldn’t let her relax, her body knew differently.  There was something primal and honest about the way her body felt at ease with him around.  Like it knew things she couldn’t or wouldn’t recognize.
       “Hey. It’s alright, love.” He mumbled into her ear.  Emie let out a soft sob, but pressed her face firmly into his chest, forcing herself to hold it in.  Not allowing the tears to fall.
       “I’m so sorry.” She whispered.  “Please, just…don’t give up on me.  Not yet.  I know I’ve been horrible to you, but I just...” She moved onto her tip toes, wrapping her arms around his neck.  Tom leaned into her, pressing his face into her hair.  He breathed in, as if inhaling the essence of her.
       “Em, I couldn’t give up on you if you asked me to.” He leaned down, his lips right next to her ear.  She felt her chin quiver, and she kissed his neck, if only for a brief second.  She pulled away then, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
       “Can we go for that run?” She asked suddenly, feeling the need for the physical exertion.  Tom pulled away, nodding.
       “Sure.”
       “I’ll meet you outside in a minute?” She asked, gesturing to her towel.  He nodded, then turned and went back out the doors to wait for her on the deck.