Nikki, who's on tea duty, stares at the boiling kettle. She feels quite strange, hosting her son's ex merely months after Zendaya.
"Are you okay," Venetia asks in a genuinely concerned tone.
"My thoughts must've wondered," Venetia smiles at her half-arsed excuse, knowing that it must be a challenge to re-accept her back into their lives. All Venetia wants is for - at least - one of Tom's parents to accept her into their family again, just as they did years before when she was a teenager.
"Can I do anything at all? Sing, dance, embarrass myself in the worst way possible and possibly lose my dignity in the process?" Nikki, taken aback by her everlasting niceness, shakes her head with a smile. She wants to laugh at the 'possibly losing my dignity' part, which is a funny-but-strange phrase.
It's not the first time Venetia has said something hilarious. Just after everyone got acquainted with her, years ago, Venetia cracked a couple of jokes about her father balding like Dom. It wasn't even remotely offensive; it was just comically random - everyone was in stitches. Including the funny man himself! The worst part was the fact that Dom wasn't even balding.
Tom thinks that there's something attractive about - the art of not giving a flying fuck - girls. Nothing is better than being in a relationship with a funny woman, someone who teases mercilessly. Although, Venetia is the humblest and most optimistic woman he's ever had the privilege of dating.
"I'm fine," Nikki places the palm of her left hand against Venetia's arm, of which feels oddly awkward.
Smiling at her gentle touch, Venetia decides to do a 'Venetia thing', and gives her a hug instead. She turns her body towards Nikki and laughs while she hugs her, knowing that this is a pretty strange moment to share. It feels nice though, like a friendly hug is just what the doctor ordered.
The water in the matte black kettle starts to boil; starting as a mere murmur, and grows into a steady, solipsistic bubbling.
The women ignore it.
"I've missed you," Venetia whispers with closing her eyes.
"Same here, darling."
To save awkwardness, they pry apart seconds later. Venetia decides to change the topic by pointing towards fully boiled kettle that just switched itself off. The only sound in the room is the bubbles viciously festering.
"We better start pouring the tea or they'll get cranky," Nikki chuckles in agreement.
"I think there's an unopened pack of bourbons in the cupboard," Nikki points towards where she thinks they are. "I reckon that'll make up for the delay, do you?" Venetia lightly laughs, nodding her head.
Tonight, has been more than insightful for Nikki, but she feels grateful for Venetia taking the effort to talk to her. She can tell it won't be too long before they're chummy with each other one again.
"So, what brings you to New York? It's a long way from home. Unless you're living out here full-time now?" She queries, digging her nails into the frustratingly well sealed pack of bourbons.
Venetia, who's already familiarised with the kitchen, stands on her tiptoes and reaches into a door-less cupboard, retrieving a small circular plate.
"Oh, you know," the actress scratches the back of her neck. There's nothing more she hates than to talk about her film discography - she'd much rather talk about Tom's. "I'm shooting until May," her vague answer makes Nikki crack a smile.
Although it's just another Hollywood cash grab - she's still extremely proud about her latest project. It's special. Something unlike she's ever done before. Regardless of the trolls, psychotic Tom and Zendaya shippers, and insecure men... Venetia Nightingale will blow everyone away with her talent.
"After that I have no idea. I might hang around for Tom's sake? I honestly haven't got a clue."
Of course, Tom's mother nods her head in agreement. It's only fair that Venetia will continue to live with her son until October.
"What happens when it's time to go home? Do you still live in England or..." the red headed woman's voice trails off. She carefully pours the piping hot water into four individual mugs, watching them turn the colour of Tom's eyes when the water touches the tea bags. Venetia watches, keeping her distance because she's a fidget and has made people - Tom - accidentally burn themselves.
The most important women in Tom's life fail to notice neither him, or Harry, casually stroll into the kitchen. The boys linger behind them, not saying anything because nothing needs to be said. Plus, they're both nosy bastards and want in on the conversation.
"I do. Well, did. To be fair we'll probably be sharing the same bed by then. Safe to assume I'm lumbered with him until the end of time," Venetia jokes, not thinking much of the casual 'I'm fucking your son' reminder. Tom, however, unknowingly flares his nostrils.
Shock - pure and utter shock - flashes across his features at her unexpected comment. So shocked, so lost for words, that he stumbles a step backwards. Harry witnesses his older brother's reaction and nervously chuckles.
"What were you saying about boundaries this earlier, Vee?" Tom reminds, reaching over Nikki's shoulder and grabbing a bourbon from off the plate.
Venetia doesn't let the embarrassment of him overhearing get in her way, she simply flashes a smile at Nikki and turns her body towards her partner.
"Now, now. We're all adults. There's no need get cranky over a fact."
In retaliation, he childishly slots a bourbon between his second and third knuckles and holds it up - as if it's his glorious middle finger. It's the most pathetic thing Venetia has ever seen him do.
"How are your parents, Venetia?" Nikki pours the milk into the tea's, careful not to make them too milky. "Are they still hosting awareness galas?" Tom and Venetia catch each other's eyes. He shakes his head slightly, as if she shouldn't answer if she doesn't want to, but Venetia ignores him.
"It's complicated," she smiles, falsely.
Ever since Venetia was a little girl, wearing pigtails and a gingham blue and white school dress, she has always disliked talking about her family. Her father is a very corrupt man. All of his scandals contribute to her disowning her birthright. She also doesn't want other people to think that she supports his views, or that he "influenced" Hollywood to give her a career handed to her on a silver platter - like Christabelle and Karolina. She never spent a single penny on her career. Venetia made her mark on the world without mentioning her parents once, with a cheap black blanket (for background) and her outdated phone that rested against a dusty Oxford dictionary from the late nineties. She earned each and every one of her Academy Award nominations herself – the hard way, full of rejection and self-hate.
Thankfully, the oven starts to beep before Nikki can answer and ask another question, unknowingly putting her son's partner on the spot.
Saved by the bell, Venetia thinks to herself.
After pushing the teas to the side, Nikki sits the hot tray down on the side of the countertop. Tom, Harry and Venetia drool over the luscious sight of the roasting pan holding a large pork joint, glistening with olive oil, and surrounded by rosemary sprigs. It seems that Nikki has tried following a cook book recipe.
"Oh my god," Venetia gasps, watching the moisture dribble into a greasy puddle below the meat while Nikki carefully carves the pork joint into thin slices. "This looks beautiful. Harry, don't this look beautiful?" Caught off guard, Harry cracks a smile and nods his head his head in agreement.
"Yeah, it does actually..."
Nikki proudly smiles at her masterpiece, "Do you think I should take a picture of it and send it to Sam? It might be nice for our fans to see us unbothered by the tabloids."
Tom and Harry shrug, they couldn't really give a shit what their mother does - just as long as she serves dinner within the next fifteen minutes. They're starving.
Venetia, however, already has her phone out and pointed towards the perfectly cooked joint of meat. Without the emerald starlet noticing, Nikki pouts her bottom lip over her top one. She forgot how sickly supportive Venetia is - she's missed her in that retrospect.
Tom notices and mouths 'I know'.
Feeling chilly, despite the steam of the food, the actor then folds his weightless arms around his skinny torso. He feels like shit, just as much as he probably looks like it. Sometimes he questions himself whether method acting is even worth it. He wants to eat the entire pork joint but he knows that his body - his fast metabolism - won't allow it.
"I could devour an entire horse," Venetia continues to joke.
As the actress hovers over the countertop, taking several more photos of the joint of pork, something catches Nikki's eye - a slight curve underneath Venetia's glamorous dress.
"Venetia," her voice croaks. "Would you like a glass of wine?" Confused, the three young adults nervously laugh.
"Eh, didn't you just make tea though?" Harry questions.
Nikki looks at the kettle behind her and the four mugs that have been grouped together and are cooling behind the tray, "I know. I'm just wondering if she'd like some wine while it cools down, that's all. Venetia is your guest-"
The actress cuts her off after noticing Nikki's prying eyes.
"I'm not pregnant, Nikki."
The room falls quiet while Nikki quickly takes her eyes away from Venetia's stomach. Harry nearly chokes on his tea - having to put back down on the marble countertop - and rubs his mouth in shock.
Meanwhile, Tom tenses up. He knows that Venetia is definitely not knocked up, she's been drinking up most of the alcohol that was already in the cupboards. It's stressful being famous.
"What the fuck, mum? You don't ask personal shit like that," furious, Tom stands between Venetia and mother.
Venetia hasn't ever seen him so mad before - which undoubtedly turns her on. She's aware that she should be mad that Nikki thinks she's fat... Instead, she's stuck thinking about dick again. Again.
"Don't get in a tiff," Venetia winks at Tom in an attempt to get him to calm down. Confused as to why she's acting flirty after having somewhat of a hurtful assumption hurled at her, Tom narrows his eyes. "I do look a little chunky these days. It's true. That's only because my character, funnily enough, tries to convince everyone that she's pregnant. I didn't need to lose weight for it," feeling horrible Nikki closes her eyes in embarrassment.
"No, you do not! I would die to have a figure like yours. Sorry. God, I'm sorry. This is all so strange... What with the breakup going viral one day and you two moving in together the next. I don't know what I was thinking," surprisingly, Venetia nods her head, she understands Nikki's concern.
The actors are seemingly living life in the fast lane, of course someone would presume pregnancy or marriage.
The actress shrugs the whole thing off, "If the offer still stands... I would absolutely adore a glass of whatever's in the cupboard."
To save herself from embarrassing the poor girl any more than she already has, Nikki nods her head, fetching a glass from the top cupboard while Tom rubs her back.
He leans close towards her ear and whispers, "I had no idea she was going to say that."
Venetia shakes him off of her and shakes her head, "It's okay."
Once Nikki pours the blush liquid into the glass, Venetia drags it across the countertop and takes a relatively large sip. She does this as proof that she isn't pregnant - of which is true - and because she needed some alcohol in her system after being judged by her boyfriend's mother.
Tom then points to the kitchen door, "I should probably get your room ready."
"He definitely means he's about to pack my shit up in bin bags and throw me out."
Venetia pouts her lips while looking at Harry, who doesn't seem too thrilled about being kicked out the place he's called home since the two months ago, but then again, she wouldn't thrilled either. Venetia shakes her head vigorously.
"No, stay. Please. I can easily buy any apartment I want in the city. I just need to crash on the sofa for tonight and get my bearings. I'll be-" Harry scoffs at her niceness. He can tell that she wouldn't be here, especially in the early days of her relationship, if it wasn't important.
He points towards his brother, "This guy here actually found me accommodation in the same hotel as Rach, Anthony and Ben. You might as well stay here."
She turns towards Tom and smiles, feeling pleasantly surprised by how quick he's got everything rearranged.
"Well," she awkwardly tilts her glass towards the boys. "I'll move out in a heartbeat if you ever want to move back in. I'm not going to be a burden," her boyfriend - or partner as they now live together - shakes his head through a grin.
"When the fuck have you ever not been a burden?"
She holds her middle finger outwards while Tom walks out of the kitchen with a helplessly wide smile attached to his lips.
He's missed her.
*
By the time they sit down to eat, New York has approached nightfall.
The sky is no longer glowing gold, it's lost its luxury. However, it's inherited a whole variety of different colour combinations. Purples, greys, blacks... The sky has no actual colour or shade. It's beautiful, but the steam from their dinners might contribute towards the slight shimmer.
They slowly devour their roast dinner, keeping conversation light. It's mostly quiet - with one of Harry's playlists softly playing in the background.
This meal is the best meal any of them have ever had.
The crackling of the pork joint is perfectly crispy, not too impossibly hard to chew on and digest like usual. The meat itself is succulent and moist. The dish is paired nicely with a glass of German Riesling, leaving a lovely apple-y freshness aftertaste. Tom has a bottle of water.
Instead of vegetables and potatoes, like a proper dinner, Nikki opted for a 'simple' side salad with olive oil dressing. Venetia was drooling over it - despite usually hating anything that's remotely healthy. She hates tomatoes but the way her cherry tomatoes were cut looked divine. The 'kids' have more traditional plates, filled with vegetables, potatoes, gravy and stuffing.
As the night goes on the wine runs low, the three adults grow hazy.
Venetia can feel the acid churning in her stomach and creeping up her throat; her head is swimming. She's had too much to drink. Far too much.
"Oh god," she nervously laughs while watching the red wine splash around in her glass. "I have to be up and at 'em by six. What time do you have to be on set, Tom?" While he cracks a smile, watching her attempt to hold a conversation while swaying slightly in her seat, Venetia puffs her cheeks outwards, wondering which pair of shades she'll wear in the morning to cover up her inevitable hangover.
"I don't actually know. Harry, do you? I know we're filming in Yonkers... But that's it," he replies, looking diagonally across the table at his curly-haired brother.
Harry nods his head, "You're meeting up with Brady Corbet at Silvercup at half nine first."
"Silvercup?"
Nikki points her fork - full of iceberg lettuce - towards the aspiring director and photographer.
The boys, and Venetia nod their heads.
"It's a sound stage studio franchise. Us lot use the Silvercup in the Bronx and, I think, the one in Queens too..." Tom's voice trails off while he gazes into Venetia's dreamy blue irises.
The actress, dressed to impress, sits opposite him, next to Harry. He's quick to cast his eyes away, before she can playfully call him a pervert or something else that's equally perverse in nature.
Although Nikki's boys have been in the industry for well over a decade, all these 'Hollywood terminologies' still throw her off. For a brief moment - before remembering - she forgets what exactly a sound stage is.
"Oh, I see. Is that why there's been a lack of paparazzi photographs?" Tom nods his head. He too has also been keeping tabs on what his fans know about the show - via the unofficial Instagram account for 'The Crowded Room'.
Venetia points her gravy ridden fork at Tom, "It's not fair that my film is shooting on location every day. Half of it has already been leaked."
"At least your dialogue hasn't leaked."
"All I heard was Sasha Lane saying 'fuck off, Danny' that's hardly either groundbreaking or a leak, Thomas."
With that, Harry and Nikki exchange an impressed smile. It's been years and somehow - just somehow - she's still Tom's number one fan.
"Still, that episode is crucial to the plot and I know one of my fans are going to figure out that she's a fucking alter from the video. Like, the bad one."
Venetia picks up her glass again and takes a sip, "I don't think so. I just see a girl pissed off with an anxiety ridden young man. I would never have guessed she's an alter before you fucking told me, dickhead. Let alone a bad one."
Everyone around the small circular table laughs at Tom's mistake - luckily, they're used to keeping tight-lipped about projects. If more news leaked about the show, it wouldn't come from any of them.
"Still, I prefer filming in sound stages. That paparazzi prick got so close to me and Sasha on set. It was the first time we filmed in public and everything," he rolls his eyes thinking about the pressure of filming not only in front of the camera - but filming in front of paparazzi. It was like being on stage again in the West End.
Venetia, who's familiar with the paparazzi, or as she calls them 'the parasites', nods her head in agreement. Sound stages are the way to go. Either that or filming inside on location, has always been beneficial.
"Do you want some more, Harry?" She picks up the bottle of red and offers it to Harry, who's just polished off another glass. She doesn't look at him though, no. Her attention is directed towards his brother.
Tom smiles, she winks.
The young actor hasn't taken his eyes off of her for most of the evening. The only time he manages to look away is when Nikki talks to him.
"Nah," Harry pushes it away from him, also feeling queasy.
"Fuck," she mumbles under her breath. "I've got to FaceTime Casper. He's probably freaking out," Venetia tries pulling her body upwards - but fails miserably. Over the course of the meal, she's been gradually sinking into her chair.
"What's that?" Nikki asks, trying not to laugh at the state of her son's partner.
"My brother-" Venetia covers her mouth when she feels the alcohol creep up the back of her throat. It's warm and uncomfortable, stings like a bitch too. Venetia swallow's the bile. "I need to FaceTime him. We usually call each other twice a day," a light 'oh' slips out of Nikki's lips.
Harry scoffs, "As if nobody can trust you being alone by yourself. Twenty-five years old and-"
"Oi, was coping quite well until my fucking hotel kicked me out. At least I'm not her personal assistant," he holds both of his hands up in defeat.
Venetia then hoists herself upwards from the seat, after scrunching the paper napkin into a pull and tosses it on the table in front of her. She tipsily stands up, adjusts her dress, and walks around the candle-lit table.
"What are-"
Tom looks up at Venetia, who hovers over him - leaning a little too close to Tom as she bends forwards, giving him a new bottle of water. Her clingy, emerald dress is cut so low that Tom's practically rubbing his nose in her cleavage. He tries not to look for his family's sake.
"Is it okay if you and I swapped places?" Tom asks before Venetia can sit back down.
"Huh?"
He nods his head, "I want to take a couple of photos. You know, for memories or whatever, and the lighting seems wicked from your angle."
Venetia narrows her eyes but doesn't say anything. She definitely knows that her man is up to something.
"I mean..." she glances towards her empty seat and shrugs. What's the worst that can happen? "If you want? Just let me grab this," she picks up her glass before scurrying back around to his side of the table.
While Tom stands up, Nikki smiles at him. For a second, she forgot that Tom's almost too good-looking himself. With his tousled dark hair, chocolate eyes, and charmingly thin British smile - he and Venetia would truly make an awe-dropping couple, that's if they ever decide to go public.
Once Venetia is settled into her new seat, she nods her head along to the music.
She watches the corners of Tom's lips raising upwards while he hides behind his phone, unintentionally taking very unflattering photos of her. He's never been the best at photographs, usually because Harry is almost always by his side. Not to mention his mother is a professional photographer for a living. His never really got the chance to learn.
As the night passes on and conversations deteriorate, Venetia becomes anxious. The next dish is dessert. It's a tiramisu of some kind, which looks exceptional, however, she remembers about what Nikki said this earlier about her body. How it must've looked pregnant for her to insinuate it.
Venetia's skin is usually tight, when she looks downwards her face doesn't balloon a second chin. Her thighs don't rub together, or chafe. She's never lost sleep over the fact that she needs a man with a similar body type - just so that it doesn't look 'weird' to society's standards. She's always been naturally underweight, but happy.
Until now - this very evening - Venetia hadn't felt self-conscious about her newfound thick arms or wished away her curvy backside. She was enjoying being shapelier... But it's backfired. One negative comment and she's back thinking about toast and avocados.
She politely declined dessert.
*
APRIL 5, 2022
After the delicious dinner, Nikki and Harry bid the couple adieu and went on their way to the fancy hotel a couple of blocks away. Now they're left to their own devices for the first time this evening.
"That was..." her voice trails off.
Without saying anything, but the tone of her voice says it all, Tom nods in agreement, kicking his shoes off and tugging his trousers down.
Venetia points towards her new en-suite, "Do you mind if I use the bathroom first? I'm sweaty and gross."
Tom shakes his head and fakes a smile. He doesn't mind, or care, who gets to use the bathroom first. Anyway, it's not like they can't go in there at the same time. They're a couple now - most partners brush their teeth together butt naked.
Venetia gratefully smiles. Within no time Tom hears the pipes rattle and the water bullets splash against the tiles. He takes his shirt off, leaving his underwear on, and strolls into the bathroom. She notices a minute too late, but even then, she wasn't surprised to see him.
While she scrubs every inch of her body, Tom brushes his teeth.
"Did Harry tell you where he put his screenplay? I can't find it anywhere and it's pissing me off..." She glides both of her hands through her foamy white hair. Tom looks st her through the mirror in front of him.
"Nah. Haven't got a clue, sorry. Remind me to ask him first thing in the morning, yeah? He probably packed it away with the rest of his things," Venetia nods but says nothing else, continuing to rid her hair from grease and sweat.
With his blue toothbrush angled right to the back of his mouth and toothpaste foam running over his knuckles, he glances downwards at the ceramic basin. He then spits the minty toothpaste out, gargles and spits again. Afterwards, he rinses the sink thoroughly with water and turns towards his partner in all of her curvy, naked glory.
"Vee," he whispers.
"Mh-mmm..."
"I'm sorry if you felt like I put you on the spot tonight. If I knew you were coming over I wouldn't have invited Mum and-"
She vigorously shakes her head, "I thoroughly enjoyed tonight. It was nice seeing them again. Don't overthink it."
"Still, I should've stepped up and told them to go someplace else."
"That's what you basically did though," she tilts her head to the side, watching him watching her though the cloudy mirror. Tom smirks at the thought of being spontaneous.
"And I regret it," he quickly adds.
Venetia pouts her lips, feeling nothing but empathy for the love of her life.
"Why don't you join me?" She asks, gritting her teeth together and smiling like a deranged person. The thought of fucking Tom in the shower excites her - just as it excites him.
Tom cautiously steps into the slippery shower, treading on the expensive body wash and splutters of shampoo. Venetia backs away while he gets accustomed to the hot water. It doesn't matter how many times she has seen him in his birthday suit, she's forever in awe. Not only is he a stunning man - but his body is gorgeous and deserves to be worshipped.
He breath trembles slightly before she makes her first move.
They're kissing so hard - so rabidly - that she's struggling to breathe.
His hands glide downwards, from her rosy cheeks to her small but perfectly plump breasts, and eventually seek refuge on top of her curvy waist. Venetia doesn't stop touching him up, shaping her hand across his chest, tracing her fingers over his faded biceps.
Fuck 'The Crowded Room' for making him too skinny.
"You're on the pill, right?"
"Yeah..."
They continue to tangle their bodies together, although Venetia seems not as into as she was before.
"Tom?"
"Mh-mmm?"
"I was, like, in the lowest set for maths and-"
"Oh my god, please just stop talking," Tom cuts her off while his whole-body throbs from trying to prevent from finishing before even fucking her. He can't help but shake with laughter, he's never been with anyone who talks a lot before. Usually, all the girls he brings home are quiet, but there is Venetia "I was, like, in the lowest set for maths" Nightingale
"I was going to ask how many days has it been since the twenty-seventh? It's when I last took the pill," Tom, who is also shit at on-the-spot maths, even the simplest kind, holds his breath while he thinks of today's date.
"Oh shit..." at this point Tom see's random numbers in his head that doesn't mean anything to him at all. All he can concentrate on is his dick. "I don't know. I got a miserable C in my GCSEs..."
"Oh my god, same! I mean, I guess it's fine. We're good," Venetia convinces herself. With that they get back with their 'business' again, dancing in the sheets with their hands tied.
She has no idea that the birth control in her system has already expired....
Tom goes back to shaping his hands over the swell of her backside. He leaves no area, no crevice, unloved, untouched. Slowly, they shift their bodies closer, Venetia smiles through the watery kiss when she feels the all too familiar feeling of his member poking against her supple thigh.
Knowing what's coming next, she parts her thick thighs in compliance with his member, pushing her delicate flesh against his.
Tom whispers the all-important "I fucking love you" into her ear before he enters her, filling her with satisfaction.
Venetia moans, unable to close her mouth as she rides him. Tom kisses her neck, keeping himself composed just so that he can last longer - that they can thoroughly enjoy it. However, he brings her to the brink of climax within seconds of being inside of her.
When she was ready to relieve herself, he lifted her against the tiled wall, one arm beneath her curvy hips and the other behind her back for support. The tiles are slippery no thanks to the splashing and condensation from the steam, but he's got that Spider-Man grip. Her watery eyes widen as he pushed his member deeper inside her. With the hot water falling against his back, and his lover clinging to his front, he filled her in frantic upward thrusts, again and again, until she cried out in pleasure.
Her love seemed to pull him deeper, drawing waves of pleasure from his groin, and he shuddered as he spent inside her. She gives his chiselled chest one last eager grope before letting go, as they stand with their backs against the wall - out of breath and incredibly breathless.
"I love you," she whispers back.
*
After their steamy session, Tom cleaned up and kissed her one last time. The water had gone cold - but neither of them minded.
Tom walked out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around him. He watched Venetia walk to the en-suite door and close it, not wanting Tom to see the clean-up process, but she doesn't lock it. Meanwhile Tom lays in bed, looking up at the ceiling with a stupid grin tattooed onto his face.
"What you smiling about?" She asks, coming out of the bathroom in nothing but her underwear that's slightly riding up her arse.
His smile gets wider.
"I think our maths is still shit," he jokes.
Venetia, who was meaning to say something about it sooner, nods her head. They both feel strangely calm about the pill situation.
"I cleaned up as well as I could down there, but we should probably go over baby names just in case. I like Alistair and Kitty," after saying the names Tom breaks into a chuckle.
"I like Felix and Sistine," he chimes in.
"Aw, they're sweet names. Quite posh too."
"I know," he whispers under his breath, wrapping his arm around her back while she cuddles into his body. He plants a kiss on top of her head.
"For what it's worth, we should totally name our hypothetical kids those names. All four of them."
"We're going to have four, huh?" He turns his head towards Venetia, watching her blush while she thinks about what could be their future. It's nice. She wouldn't be pissed off if her belly started to swell and she has all the symptoms - fuck her career.
"Oh yeah," she giggles. "We're going to be busy."
"We're so broken to be even talking about this shit freely, you know that right?"
Venetia nods her head, "I don't care. My contracts have taken everything from me but they're not taking the thought of Ali, Kit, Felix and Sissi away from us. I won't allow it."
Venetia's bared so much this evening that Tom might as well be looking into her soul. He realises that Venetia wants the exact same thing as him - and he's in awe.
"Anyway," she looks at his digital clock that sits on the nightstand closest to her. "There's no point me going to bed now. You, on the other hand, need some beauty sleep. Goodnight," she playfully kisses the tip of his nose and proceeds to pat his cheek before lifting her body upwards and rolling off the bed.
Tom chuckles as she causally walks backwards out of the room, blowing kisses as if she's just performed in an opera full of millions of people.
She's truly one of the kind.