B A N A N A S . | Tom Hiddleston

Chapter 1

Like every bad day begins, it had started good. With a call from Luke reminding him to be at the studio by 10, Tom had enjoyed a run with Bobby and a simple breakfast of toast.

He had never felt lonely, staring at the empty chair across from him as he ate. Just.. today he felt that the house was empty.

On occasions, he would personally reassure himself that he did not need anybody else to live with him, and that Bobby was another being that could keep him company.

The breakup with Taylor had broken his premises of trust, way beyond the level of ever loving again. Love was a feeling that he was unaware he couldn't not acknowledge anymore.

"Down, Bobby.." he hushed his dog quietly, and picked up the overexcited puppy, putting him in his personal entertainment room.

Honestly, Bobby was well-trained, but he would tear the house apart of he felt an aspect of loneliness. There were more of Tom's shirts and stolen chewed up shoes that were in there than actually toys.

After making sure that Bobby wasn't going to escape his pen and that everything was set, Tom departed his home, and his safe ground for emotions.

Out in the world, feelings were freeplay, like a public domain. Anyone could mess with them. Anyone.

...

"It's raining, I have a puppy at home, and I'm dead tired!" Tom complained with annoyance, running a hand through his drenched hair.

The recording for the Avenger's had been delayed due to London's thunderstorms and whatnot, but after a bit, their director had gotten impatient and started taking shots in the rain, only to say that they wouldn't be using the scenes later.

And now, Luke had come to tell him that they had managed to set something up inside. As much as he loved that man, he was always the bearer of the bad news.

Luke sighed and turned around to see how everybody else was doing. It seemed that no one was motivated to refilm the part.

No one got their way.

...

Tom slipped into his car, half asleep from his work.

The director reshot the scene six times, because the other actors kept screwing up their lines from their own irritation and exhaustion.

All he wanted to do was to go home and go to bed.

A small honk woke him back up, as Chris' chauffeur seemed to be a bit impatient. With a light growl, Tom hit the pedal, completely waking himself up as the car jerked forward.

After a few minutes of driving, he remembered that Bobby had been short of food this morning. He had to grab another bag.

Tom felt like crying at this moment, just because of his horrible state and what he still had left to do. And, it didn't help matters that he had forgot to bring an umbrella, or even ask for a spare one.

Parking his car at a local grocery store, Tom lazily applied his "disguise," or, his glasses.

He winced as the driving rain hit him hard, and he felt the water seep and drench his suit coat.

It was considerably easy for Tom to sprint with his long legs, the water splashing after his footsteps.

The doors whizzed open automatically, and he retracted the hand he was going to use to push them open, a light blush of embarrassment on his face as he entered the store.

He could hear their whispers as he walked past them, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Is that Tom Hiddleston?"

"Ew."

"I think he's hot."

"Nah. Though I wonder, why would this prissy get up off of his butt?"

"I know right? Celebs are so pampered."

Tom wasn't used to this. Not a single bit.

Their bitter words threatened tears. His life wasn't that easy.

Dropping his head and stance, he shuffled as far away from his group of lover haters as he could get, before proceeding to the isle with Bobby's food.

There was a shortcut actually - through the agricultural produce section.

Tom entered the isle quickly, determined to get out of the store.

His eyes were clouded and hair wet, mouth slanted into a tired frown and shoulders shaking from the cold. His glasses were also fogged.

Tom halted and pulled them off, using his dress shirt to neatly wipe the mist away, and slipping his lenses back on, met with clear vision.

And something caught his eye.

Further down the isle, was a woman flattening herself underneath the banana shelf.

Her skinny hand reached up over the ledge and snatched a batch of bananas. He could barely see as she slipped it into her backpack, hidden out of sight. Then another bunch.

Tom quirked an eyebrow and with a querying warning look, approached the ruffled woman.

Her features were carved perfectly, but matted with dirt. Their was a scar above her left eyebrow, and her sweatshirt was old and ripped.

Poverty.

Tom took a small breath, before crouching down in front of her. Giving a small, reassuring shush as her eyes snapped to him in alarm and she squirmed with fear.

"I would suggest you don't take the green ones." he said politely, cocking his head.

She repeated his motion and opened her mouth to speak.

"Green good, no? I learned that yellow mean ripe." a foreigner too.

Holy gosh, this was going to be a long night.