Blog for my fictions staring Mr. Thomas Hiddleston. Please use the links to the side and above to navigate the site. If you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask. I don't bite, (much)
Summary: Tom’s girlfriend doesn’t like Christmas, he decides to change that.
Genre: Romance, holiday.
Words: 1,716
Tom had put the final touches on the wrapped present that laid on the hardwood floor, peeling the tape off of the store bought bow and sticking it on the gift. He smiled down at his handy work, the green wrapping paper torn and pasted back together with scotch tape, the big, sparkly bow doing its best to hide the child-like craftsmen ship of his wrapping. Though juvenile, he thought, he was proud in himself that he’d wrapped it all by himself.
A previously taped flap of the paper flung open, the poor tape too weak to hold it all in as Tom sighed to himself, silently vowing to have Amazon.com wrap it next time.
The front door opened wide, banging against the back wall as his heart beat quickened with the sounds of angry footsteps. She couldn’t see the gift, not this close to Christmas. Tom grabbed the present up off the floor, frantically looking around his flat to find a place to hide it, some where she wouldn’t be able to find.
Under the couch wasn’t going to work, he thought, remembering the Roomba she’d bought two months ago. The kitchen was on the other side of the house, he thought for a brief moment that he could hide it in the oven, a place she wouldn’t dare trek. The last resort for hiding it would be in his desk, an obvious hiding spot, as that would be the first place she’d look for it.
He did the fourth and most nonsensical of his options, taking the poorly wrapped gift and shoving it down his shirt as she rounded the corner.
His fake smile beaming, he crossed his arms over his chest, holding the itchy paper to his stomach as he tried to play it off. “Hi baby, how was work?”
She narrowed her eyes at him, the bags that she tried so hard to cover with makeup had been wiped away, the black of her fallen mascara making them almost seem darker. She had a hunch in her back, cowering over her damaged retail uniform as he seemed as if she was only seconds away from growling at him.
Tom tried to stay still as not to anger the beast.
“Love, what’s wrong?” He asked, concern dripping for every word. She ran her hands through her dirty and knotted hair as she sighed.
“Christmas, that’s what’s wrong.” She groaned, throwing her purse onto an empty chair in the living room.
“The screaming kids, the panicked parents, the three Christmas carols they played over and over and over again – if I ever hear ‘I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus’ one more time, I’m gonna kill myself-!” She began to ramble. Tom walked closer to the young woman, gently grabbing her arm to slow her down, while trying to keep the present under wraps.
“Whoa there, hold on-“
“Don’t you ‘Whoa’ me, Thomas. I’m not a horse!” She all but screamed. “I don’t understand it. Every year, people lose their minds, just because Santa is on his way – do you really think anyone is going to be on this ‘nice’ list with all of the pushing and shoving and name calling and fights that I had to break up?”
“Kids can get a little out of control, sometimes…”
“It was the adults.”
“Ah…”
She sighed, sitting down on her purse as she buried her head in her hands. Her back seemed to inflate with a deep breath and deflate just as quickly as she mentally calmed herself down.
“I just don’t get it.” She said, lifting her head. “I just don’t get the whole ‘Christmas Spirit’ thing. I understand, everyone wants to spend time with their family-“ Tom winced. “Everyone wants to spend time with who they love, but to act like crazy buffoons seems like a bad idea to me.”
“But what about the other things?” Tom said as he sat down on the coffee table. “The snow falling, the Christmas lights, the hot chocolate-“
“The traffic, the electric bill, the extra calories.”
“The smell of baked goods, caroling, sleigh bells-“
“More calories, headaches, and even more headaches.”
“The sounds of children laughing, the joy in someone’s eyes when they open the present you had given them, the magic.”
“The sounds of children screaming because they didn’t get the game station they want, the sorrow that someone didn’t print off a gift receipt, and – I’m sorry – but I haven’t felt the ‘magic’ in years.”
Tom’s brows knitted together as he couldn’t help but scoff at the words. “Wha-what? You haven’t felt the ‘magic’?”
“Yes. To me, it’s just another day.”
“Sweetheart, it’s not just another day.” Tom said, grabbing a hold of her hand as it rested in her lap. “It’s a time of happiness and cheer, of being with the people you love and who love you too.”
His look of concern turned to one of admiration as his eyes almost smiled at her, urging her to follow his lead of the Christmas Spirit. The way she looked, plopped down in the armchair, as if she’d given up on the world, gave little encouragement to his cause. He absent-mindedly rubbed his thumb over hers, trying to nurture her as best as he could.
“Why don’t you go take a bath, get the ‘work’ off of you, and then we can sit down and drink some hot chocolate?” He said with a smile. She slowly nodded her head, sitting up from the armchair as a zombie rising from the deep slumber of death might. She shuffled her feet along the hard wood floor, disheartened by the simple act of walking to the bathroom.
Tom had to move fast, pulling the poorly wrapped present from within his shirt and placing it under the tree, alongside the gifts that they had both received from her parents in America, and the gifts that he himself had wrapped and was planning on sending to the children’s hospital down the street.
He couldn’t understand how someone could be so disappointed in a simple holiday. Christmas was a magically for him time, ever since he was a kid – but here she was, seeing the worst that the holiday had to offer and almost gleefully ignoring the pleasant side of the twenty-fifth.
---
When she emerged from the bathroom, all clean and scrubbed pink, Tom had turned off the main lights and on the Christmas lights. Sitting down on the floor, he rested his back against the foot of the couch, pulling a cup of cocoa to his lips as she smirked at him.
“Aren’t you all comfy?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest and the chest of one of Tom’s button up shirts.
He smiled at her, pulling a blanket down from the couch and patting beside of him. “Would you like to find out?”
She grinned, almost prancing over the pillows and blankets littering the floor as she curled up beside him, resting her wet head on his shoulder as he sipped, rather loudly, on the ceramic mug brought to his lips. She glared up at him, ignoring his smirk as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.
“This is nice.” She sighed into his chest as he kissed her temple, taking in the fruity scent of her shampoo in her wet hair, instantly calming the nerves. He hummed back. “I agree.”
“I’m sorry if I was a bitch earlier.”
“You’re forgiven.”
“It’s just; this holiday gets me so upset.” She confessed into the cotton of his shirt. “-Every year people practically killing others over the stupid gifts, the endless carols on the radio; the commercial side of Christmas. Everyone forgetting about what it’s really about.”
“And what is that?” He hummed, closing his eyes as she began to trace patterns over his chest.
“Being loved. Giving a gift because you want to bring a smile to someone’s face, not because they are expecting it. Reminiscing with family as they tell embarrassing stories from your childhood, while you down your third glass of Egg Nog-“ Tom snorted. “And most important, the lights.”
“When I was a kid, my parents use to shove all of us kids in the car, and we’d just drive around the neighborhood, or the town, and see the lights while listening to Christmas Songs on the radio. We’d just go around looking at the inflatable snowmen, the twinkle light reindeer, the icicle lights off the porches – all while trying to hide the tears falling down our faces whenever ‘Christmas Shoes’ came on the radio.”
“Oh God, that song gets me every year.”
“Me too. It’s terrible. I hate crying, and knowing that you’re going to cry in a confined space makes it like three times worse.”
“It’s just, this is going to be my first Christmas away from my family. I miss them so much. When I got that package from my mom last week, I was so happy. It was, like, they didn’t forget about me. I’m not saying they would have – I am the light of their lives – but it just made me realize how much I was missing. This is the first year I’m away from my family, the first year I’m not going to go driving with my family and hide my face when the sappy songs come on the radio. I just miss them, that’s all. I’m sorry if I was snippy earlier.”
Tom looked down at his girlfriend as she snuggled closer to his body, trying her hardest to hide the tears that were threatening to fall at any moment. He gently lifted her head from the confines of his cotton shirt, his blue eyes pouring into hers as he tried to smile. She smiled back, doing her best not to burst into tears as she thought about home.
Tom leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on her lips, wanting nothing more than to kiss the tears away. He pulled away as she sniffed, the few tears falling down her rosy cheeks as he quickly wiped them away. With a grin on his face, he straightened his back as looked at her sad eyes and said the words that made her whole face light up:
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