May 2011: Don't Leave.

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I know it is early morning, but I am warm in my cocoon so I don’t really care. I know that I’m in Tom’s hotel room still, and that I will need to check out of my hotel (which I never actually set foot in except to drop off my things), and then make the four hour drive back to New York.  But all those things can wait.  For however much time I have before I need to get up, they can wait.  I’m pretty sure this bed has a feather topper, and I know for a fact that the duvet is down. In other words, I am in bed heaven.

I wonder if Tom is awake. I open my eyes just a bit, hoping to get a peek.

Only…Tom isn’t there.  I’m alone in this giant bed, and he’s gone. 

I sit up quickly, clasping the duvet to my chest.  I’m still completely naked, and he is still nowhere to be found.  Not in bed. Not on the floor (I don’t know why he’d be on the floor, but just checking), and not in the bathroom. 

That little shit left. Without saying goodbye.  Again.

Scrambling out of bed, I trip over my own feet as I take the duvet with me, and then tumble softly into an awkward pile onto the plush carpeted floor.  I’m not sure how it is that my knees are still wobbly, but good god, they are.  And the muscles in my thighs ache as if I’ve had a good work out.  Oh, it was a good workout, alright.

There’s a soft tapping at the door, and I look up from my pile on the floor. 

Wrapping the blanket around myself, I shuffle over to the door and open it up just a smidge.  There’s a hotel employee there, with a cart behind him.  He has a name tag on that says “Ralph” and for some reason I wonder if that’s really his name.

“Room service.” Ralph says nonchalantly.  I’m very aware that I’m standing there in only a duvet, with sex hair and a dopey look on my face.  This guy has probably seen it many times before.

“Okay.” I say slowly.  I open the door, letting him in, and then plaster myself to the wall, out of the way.  I didn’t order room service, but I will gladly accept it.

“Would you like it over here?” He asks, gesturing toward the small sitting area.  I don’t really care.  I would just like for him to leave the food.

“Thank you.  Um…I didn’t order food though.” I say quickly, my conscious getting ahold of me.  Ralph looks down at a slip of paper and then back up at me, a curious look on his face.

“Mr. Hiddleston did.  About an hour ago.” He says.  Ah, the mysterious vanishing Mr. Hiddleston.

“Oh. Thank you.” I nod.  Ralph smiles and then takes the lids off the trays, then quickly leaves the room.  Well at least if Tom’s going to abandon me again, this time he left me with food.  A goodbye would have been nice though. 

I walk over to the cart, letting the blanket fall loosely around my shoulders.

Heaven.  Waffles. Bacon. Juice, coffee and a huge lovely bowl of fruit. 

I grab the bowl of fruit and a piece of bacon and stumble back toward the bed, kicking the duvet out and around me so I don’t trip again.  I barely settle back onto the bed, sitting cross legged and surrounded by blankets and pillows, when I hear the door start to open again.

Wow. These hotel employees are super friendly.

“Ralph?” I frown.

“Who the hell is Ralph?” Tom sounds amused as he steps into the room, looking awake, handsome and rather sweaty.  I pause, bacon midway to my mouth, the bowl of fruit in my lap.

“Oh, hi.” I manage. “Ralph is my new boyfriend.  He brought me bacon.” I grin. Tom walks over to the bed and stops, puts his hands on his lean hips and narrows his eyes at me. He’s wearing a plain tshirt, which is a little sweaty at the neck and chest, and a pair of jogging sweats.

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