Work Text:
It had been an accident, well, that was what Chris had told himself, what he probably should have implied was he never meant for it to happen, but long hours and a young sexy actress throwing herself at him changed things; she was beautiful, famous, fun, the heart of the party, and the film was long, tedious, on many days and he missed home, missed the feeling of someone beside him in bed, the feeling of a body writhing under his, and so it happened, just once, then twice, and before long, it as any day that filming was tough, which was most days.
He had not thought you would come to visit him on set, you said you were busy, you said that the studio had you up the walls, too many scripts to be edited to make them even be considered for shortlisting for movies. What he had not banked on was his little side piece being so vocal about their indiscretions, since she was supposed to be seeing some big shot guy, someone that could drop her and her fun lifestyle living in a flash, but someone had heard from someone, who heard it from said actress that he was a great lay and it had gotten back to you, sort of. They implied you needed to see Chris, but never said why exactly, not feeling it was their place, but not wanting to see you be made a joke of, so excitedly, you went to do just that. When you arrived, he was taken back to see you at his hotel, you were smiling happily, delighted after seeing him after two long months apart filming, he, on the other hand, was cold, and distant. As soon as you were in private, he starting half demanding why you had come, what did you know, to which you could only stare back blankly, no idea of what he was referring to, but then you realised it. Resignation came to your face. You had been apprehensive of the actress he would be playing across from, she had a reputation, but you trusted Chris, he had been the first to give out about people cheating, so he would never do such a thing, you had thought at least. But the way he rubbed the back of his neck, the guilty look on his face, it said everything you needed to know. Biting your lips between your teeth, you nodded in defeat and walked towards the door again. "I'm sorry" that was all he said, as though sorry made it better, made the betrayal, the hurt, the lies, the 'Can't wait to see you' comments when clearly he could all disappear, make it all go away. It didn't, it couldn't.
Their affair hit the papers less than forty-eight hours after you had gone home, well, 'affair' was not the word used, it was made seem like they had found each other on set, fallen in love and cut ties with their other halves before doing anything about their feelings. It all cut you too painfully, and even the sight of his name, much less his face broke your heart even more, a name you had started feeling butterflies every time you saw it as you thought of the guy that had made moving to the States so much easier, the guy you loved snuggling up next to on the sofa with to watch terrible movies and comment about them the whole way through. But you did not let it show, you would not give it to anyone to let them see how much it hurt. And when the studio needed a volunteer to go to London for a minimum of three months, though you had been hesitant before, you jumped at the chance. Britain was just next to home and the hell away from Hollywood, Chris and everything you came to hate with a passion.
It was there that you came to terms with everything, you woke in the morning of the second week there and it wasn't the first thing you thought of, it was one of the first, but not the first, that was progress as far as you were concerned.
You remained in the office for the most of the time, typing out the sheets of altered scripts for different actors, when you were told there were alterations to be made, you didn't mind, you loved the storyline so seeing it all together was fun, that was where you met him, Tom, polite, cordial and a gentleman. He came in for his altered script, but it still had to be okayed by those in higher positions, and they would be another twenty minutes in a meeting so after offering him a tea or coffee, you continued your own work.
"You like Plath?" he asked, noting the book that was lying open on the desk.
"I do, not exactly the most upbeat poet, but it's interesting to study those with a tortured soul."
"Does it put things in some form of perspective?" You looked at him in confusion, "We met before, on the set of The Dark World."
You swallowed hard, the day Chris had gone to the set to shoot that one scene in his uniform, you had gone with him, you had met Tom there, but you never thought he would remember. "Yes, of course, I thought you wouldn't…"
"I heard what happened, what really happened, I am so sorry."
"Why, you weren't the one who…"
"No, but I never thought…"
"Believe me, no one thought that as much as I did, but I was wrong."
"How are you?"
"Fine."
"One thing about Irish people and the word fine, it and 'grand' both cover everything from 'I have won the lotto' to 'I have terminal cancer'."
"I suppose, I don't like to think about it, I am doing okay, I am focusing on work."
"That helps, for a while, but it is lonely." You looked at him in surprise. "When I was away doing War Horse, my girlfriend…"
"Did you ever feel like you could let someone in again?"
"Honestly, not yet."
"Yet?"
"I think I will when the right woman comes along." He shrugged.
"I have, to be honest, I am not feeling too hopeful if you are still in this position years later."
"Maybe you will find someone perfect for you faster."
"I'll let you know if he has a sister." was all you could reply, causing the actor to give you the most incredible smile you had ever seen and for the first time since Chris' nonverbal admittance that broke your heart, you gave a genuine smile in return.
That was how it started, as fate would have it, there were several rewrites, and because of his meticulous nature and professionalism, Tom himself came in to deal with them, and every time he made small talk and gave you that smile, a smile you soon realised not everyone was given, making you feel better in yourself. To your shock, Chris was not in the top five thoughts of your morning wake up any longer, instead, Tom was, causing you to giggle excitedly for a moment before you scolded yourself and forced yourself to remember, he had been hurt too before, and he was not yet ready to let someone in, you were only setting yourself up to fail again if you weren't careful.
"May I ask you something?" you looked up from the script you were working on, trying to see if it was going to get through even the first layer of sieving to make it to the producer's table to see Tom in front of you, a nervous smile on his face.
"Hi, sure, ask away."
"Does it hurt when they broadcast it as he does?"
You regretted giving him permission to ask; you never actively sought information on Chris and his tartlet, but you were often forced to endure it anyway. "Yes and no. Yes because he said he never wanted any of that, so I find myself wondering was he lying to me, no because I don't allow it, it…he is not my concern anymore, my concern is me." again Tom gave you that smile, but with a hint of something else in it, around his eyes there was something you were unsure of.
"May I ask you something else?"
"You may."
"Are you free later?"
"I am, why?"
"Well, I was hoping you could join me for dinner?" there was a nervousness in his tone, one that showed that he was doing something he had not done in so long, if you had to guess, you would wager he was trying to let you in, but you had to rubbish it, why, of all people would you be the one to break through everything and gain the trust of THE Tom Hiddleston.
"I…"
"Of course, I should not have assumed, I am sorry if I…"
"Sure," He froze, looking at you in shock. "I would love that."
"Really?" His voice was drenched in hope.
"Really," you smiled. "When suits?"
"What time are you off?"
"Today?"
"Yes."
"No."
Tom's face fell. "But you said you were free."
"I am, but I can't possibly go to dinner looking like this." you indicated to your clothes. "I look a mess."
"I think you look divine." he admitted before a deep red starting climbing his neck and ears.
Since you both did not want any attention on you, he offered to cook at his for you both. You accepted thinking he would order food in, utterly flabbergasted when you turned up with some wine to see him actually cooking. "A man of many talents," you had joked. The evening was incredibly comfortable, the only silences were ones while you both ate, the rest of the time you both spoke at length of your interests.
Chris loved football, you would listen as he roared abuse at any team that dared battle his beloved Patriot's, but that was as far as your knowledge on the topic went. Tom loved Tennis, another game you knew little of, but his passions went to books as well, something of a common ground. You were often called boring, old before your time, but Tom called you mature, not being interested in the weekend's drinking and clubbing was not something to be laughed at in his eyes but admired. He realised you liked classical music and rather than suggest other genres to listen to, he went into a full discussion of wanting to know what instruments you loved, had you been to many concerts, it felt refreshing, you felt validated as a person.
"Everyone calls me boring." You admitted.
"Good, that makes two of us." Was all he grinned in return. "I love sitting in with tea and a good book."
"Maybe a pack of biscuits too, but I tend to binge eat when I get invested."
"Now that is speaking my language, darling."
'Darling' that one word of his made you swoon when he used it. Chris had used 'babe' a normal enough term, very American, but darling made you feel as though you mattered. It caused you to blush every time without fail, and you suspected Tom knew, after all, he said it more often with an expectant smile on his face when he did, and you simply became more bashful.
It was by far, the most comfortable and happy you had felt since the debacle, and all the time, Tom respected you and your boundaries and hang-ups, slowly working you through them until you felt confidence starting to build in you once more. It was then, after two months of dating, it began to become physical, feeling inconsequential from Chris choosing a statuesque and, as much as you were sickened to admit it, a more beautiful woman than you, you felt as though Tom would be less than satisfied with you too. If he was, it did not show, he was as thorough a lover as he was an actor; ensuring you loved every moment of it, telling you how beautiful you were, how perfect every last imperfection was, he spoke of how much he adored connecting with you in such an intimate way, how amazing you were. His eloquent tongue using words that made you blush with modesty as he spoke them, punctuating them as he gave you pleasure, positively reinforcing each one to the extent that when he told you the dinner you were sharing was exquisite, your body reacted as it had when he had said it to you in bed.
Your three-month contract was due to finish but was then renewed. With those in charge deciding the European market worthy of the investment, and with many of those of the highest talent deciding to not make the move to Hollywood, the company decided to open a permanent office in London, with you already there, you were one of the first offered a permanent transfer. You took it there and then, not for Tom, but for you, something Tom later told you mattered more than anything else, though he was ecstatic you decided as you had.
You agreed to move in with him until you found a permanent residence, after three months, you stopped even looking, Tom got a key cut for you. After six months, you went to Battersea Dog Home together and brought back a dog that seemed to have more breeds in it than most veterinary books, but he was perfect, he was yours and Tom's.
The first film promotion was the first test, it was incredibly hard, as that was where things could go incredibly wrong. Tom too worked with gorgeous, supposedly happy in their relationships women, but you had to try. Tom felt similar, his busy life was why his last girlfriend cheated, but together, you spoke through it, argued through some parts, but finally the day came for him to leave and you were both forced to face it. Neither of you wanted to be the one to crack, to act as though you were weak and obsessive, forcing you both to sit on your anxiety of your previously broken trust. The first week was the hardest, but you had Bentley with you to keep you company, Tom had laughed as you face-timed him with the dog beside you as you sat on the floor of your now shared home at the end of the first week. It was tough, but knowing the gut-wrenching feeling of being the victim of such actions before got you both through, and soon, even on Tom's busiest days, even with ten hour long flights, he called, he texted, he even faxed once when there was no cell reception, and it made you realise it could be done.
Then came another obstacle a movie with a love scene. Tom had paid for you to join him on set for that. He wanted and needed you to be there, he needed to show you that you could trust him, and as much as you found yourself struggling to maintain steady breathing, you needed to see the scene. Sure in the movie it would be passionate and almost feral, but on set, with forty people staring, when it was not actually a small room but a huge studio, you could see there was nothing to it, and when the takes were done and the director called cut, Tom looked straight to you, and the lustful gaze he acted in the movie, you realised was not for the actress, but the one he had for you, you being there was how he could show it truly, and after the day was called on set, he showed you who he yearned for, in an explicit and thorough fashion.
Chris' actions had shattered your trust and slowly Tom repaired the breaks in it, it was not perfect, but Tom ensured you knew you were loved; as you did with him. Every day you did everything you could to ensure he saw that his previous experiences were not going to repeat themselves, you were faithful, you would never do that to him, slowly he too saw how to let himself love deeply again.
You were easily accepted by his friends and family, his sisters and mothers loved you from the day he brought you home, they knew from a mere ten minutes in your company you were not looking to gain anything from Tom's fame, you merely loved him for him, as he did you, and that was enough in their minds. When Tom explained that you too had been hurt, that you knew pain, they did not judge, they did not say anything, his mother only embraced you tightly and swore her son would not do such a thing, he was too broken from his own hurt.
As the year anniversary came around, Tom suggested you return home for it, bringing Bentley in the car and have a week in Ireland; you embraced the idea immediately, and for said week, you showed Tom your favourite parts of home, including your family, who made comments regarding Chris and his life for all of two moments before you shot them down, insisting you neither knew what he was doing, or cared for it, all you were concerned with was your future, and Tom. On the final day before having to return home, you decided to go up a hill that you had told Tom was the place you came to when deciding to go and try and make it in a job with so little breakout opportunities, it was the scariest thing you had done in your life, but that view made you see the whole picture, or so you stated. Tom got to the top a few steps behind you, on turning to see where he was, you were shocked to see him barely able to stand, so you rushed over to see what was wrong, it was from there you realised he was on one knee, a ring in his hand, the diamond was quaint and the band made of white gold, showing you that one tiny comment you had made to Sophie Cumberbatch at a gathering after only four months of dating regarding liking only small jewellery resonated with him, he remembered that one little detail and that alone made you want to shout yes in reply to the question he asked.
On a crisp spring afternoon, as the sun fought its way through the clouds, in a small church in Scotland, you became Mrs Thomas Hiddleston in front of a few friends and family, no paps, no cameras. As you sat at the table, the speeches were made but you lacked the courage to say anything, you simply sat listening, with tears of love and happiness in your eyes as Tom told everyone gathered of how he thought you were the most beautiful woman alive since the moment he first saw you, but when he met you again and you were sitting in the office typing at what could only be called lightning speed in his opinion, and you asked him if there was even a chance it would get easier, he knew he loved you. The manner in which he described your similar pasts caused him to come up with an analogy that caused you to smile. He said you were two separate hearts, cracked down the middle by past events, both of you terrified you were beyond repair, unable to figure out where all the broken shards went, but then you came together, and he realised that the half of his heart that still stood somewhat intact fit yours perfectly, allowing you both to love again, together.
*
Chris stared at the mirror in front of him. He did not recognise the man looking back. His dishevelled appearance signifying his turmoil. As happened with him, his partying girlfriend found someone else to appease her. Chris watched as everything he had collapsed around him. People began to suspect that he had still been with you when he got with the actress, who was accumulating quite the reputation, one he was not fully aware of before, but regretting being associated with now, especially since…he swallowed and thought of you. It was the biggest mistake of his life letting you go, not that he needed to remind himself, his family told him incessantly. He did not want to go about broadcasting his relationship with his new flame four days after you realised his actions and left, but they were spotted together and her agents went with it before consulting with his. He was relieved that unlike her former lover, you had not called out their actions. Now he sat alone, smelling and feeling woeful in his apartment while you were God knows where. He went in search of you after everything came to a head to apologise, and in some foolish way, in hopes you would want him back, but your work had told him you had gone to London.
He remembered that job, you declined it outright when it was mentioned on the basis of you didn't think it was right to leave for three months, something he argued for you to do, knowing it would further your career, but you had declined even considering it due to not wanting to put any pressure on the relationship, but with him gone, clearly you seized your chance to go. From the sounds of things, you were not coming back. He wept for a day and thrashed his hallway when that realisation came to the fore.
He groaned as he heard banging on the front door, he wanted to ignore it, but he knew Pratt was coming over and he had a key, so he was not going to get any solitude, no matter what happened. When the other man walked in, he just gave him a warning glare. "Not interested."
"You look like Hell."
"Shut up."
"Are you really that caught up on her, I mean she left your ass for another guy, she is not worth it; only trash does that," Pratt stated as he handed fresh takeout to his friend. "You weren't this cut up after…"
"Don't say her name."
"Wait, is this about her? It is, isn't it? If you still feel like this, why did you break up with her?"
"I didn't."
"Wait, are you saying she broke up with you because I am about ninety percent sure she was commenting on diamond rings with Anna one day shopping." Evans gave a gross sob at that. "Hey man, talk to me, what is going on?"
"I...she found out."
"Found out about what?"
"That I.…"
"Wait, you cheated on her," Pratt realised, Evans just nodded shamefully. "With that tart?" again he nodded. "So you cheated on the nicest, sweetest woman alive, the same woman that said she could not wait to give Jack a best buddy, that she wanted to talk to you about maybe having a baby, and you think you have a right to get choked up about it?" Prat looked him up and down in disgust. "What the hell was wrong with you?"
"I messed up, I never meant for it to happen, I was lonely…"
"Lonely, that's your excuse, you felt a little lonely? How the hell do you think she felt? How do you think she felt when she realised that the man she was hoping to spend her life with went away for a few months to do a film, with an actress the blind could see she was none too pleased about and you did everything she feared would happen, how do you think she felt? Anna and I have barely heard from her and we were wondering why, if I'd have known…"
"Wait, you've heard from her, where is she?"
Pratt contemplated not telling him for a minute, but there was blatant desperation in his features, so he conceded. "England, she took the job, she…she met someone." Evans made a terrible sound of agony at that. "She's happy, she's…she's not going to come back."
"I messed up." Chris wept, his friend looking at him pitifully, but not in anyway disagreeing with him. "Why did I…?"
"It doesn't matter now, she is gone, all you can do is get on with it, she's happy, you need to get to grips with that and get yourself back on track too."
"But I love her."
"Chris, she is not coming back, she has found someone else, she loves him now. I know that kills you to hear but you have to accept it."
"What's his name?"
"She never said and we never asked. Don't do this man, scrap what dignity you have left off the floor and get on with things. Go get a shower, we'll go and watch a game or something."
"She used to try and understand football, never grasped it, though," Chris stated sadly, a small smile on his face.
"Don't do this man, go grab a shower."
Nodding sadly, Chris walked to his bedroom and looked around, his focus coming to the area in the corner he used grouse you would have far too many books, now all that was there was dirty laundry, grabbing his phone, he went onto the browser and typed in your name. In truth he had no idea what would come up, what he had not expected was the headlines and pictures of you in front of him, his eyes filling with tears once more.
Tom Hiddleston is off the market, the Thor and Avengers actor got married in a secret ceremony in Scotland last month.
The picture was one of you and Tom on your honeymoon, his wedding ring viewable in the picture as he held you hand in his, your rings viewable as you put some stray hair behind your ear. The smile on your face caused his stomach to churn painfully. You looked so happy, so carefree, so at ease that he could not deny it, it killed him somewhat to acknowledge you had indeed moved on. He knew Tom enough to know the Brit would never hurt you, Tom would not do what he had done, he would love you and show it every day. Tears fell as he thought of Pratt's words, you wanted that with him, a family with him, and he cast it all aside for an easy lay, now Tom would be the man that would have that life with you and as he noticed the small Baloo stuffed toy in Tom's hand, he suspected you already were starting one.