Crumbs (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

Missing Biscuits

A/N: Excuse me while I ramble....

Writer's block rears it's ugly head! Thanks to all those who left suggestions for me on how to beat it.  This chapter was like pulling teeth for me though.  I know where things are going, but it is just getting there that's the hard part.  I'll be honest, not a lot happens in this chapter, but after the emotional drain the previous chapter was, and what I have in store for Tom and Charlie...we all need a little break! Hah! But thank you for reading and sticking with me.

Also, much thanks to my lovely friends who have encouraged me so very, very much along the way.  Your words have helped me fight some of the doubt in my head, and have kept me writing for me, despite what others may have me do.  I am not perfect, I don't claim to be, but I have to stay true to the picture I've painted in my head.  Thanks you guys.  @bluebell84 (for making me laugh, fangirl and being w.a.s.)  @redwritinghood09 (for keeping things in perspective, and being the voice of reason and wisdom)  @vintagehouse (for being my long distance lover and confidant)   @inkysnow (for being ridiculously eloquent, cool, intelligent, and our UK tour guide extraordinaire!)

There have really been so many people on Wattpad who have been so kind to me.  A lot of people ask me to read their stories, and I do try to check everything out, but I'm so sorry if it takes me forever.  I thank you all, and wish I could send you each a hug.  xoo

I'm deep in this crazy, long, epic, full color, super realistic dream that entails me standing, teetering on the edge of a cliff, deciding whether to jump or run away.  I'm worried about what's waiting at the bottom though—whether it'll be jagged rocks or a deep, enveloping pool of water.  And I'm just about to make my decision in this dream that has no metaphorical meaning whatsoever, when I am woken up.

Strangely enough, Tom isn't wrapped around me. This time...I am tucked in the space between his arm and his side.  My face is smashed against his chest and his armpit, and it really is actually pretty nice.  I can feel him breathing, I can feel the weight of his arm against my back.  I want to stay there a bit longer, but my phone alarm is chirping, reminding me that it is 4 am, and time to go out and live the brilliant, doughy life of a baker.

"Are you going to get your alarm or am I going to have to throw your phone down the stairs?" He grumbles, and I hear his voice through the echo of his chest.  I lift my head, peering at him through my mess of dark hair. 

"Throw it down the stairs." I say grumpily.  He nods, and then rolls out of bed, literally.  He manages to land on his feet, picks my phone up off the floor and then starts randomly pressing buttons and swiping.  I can tell he's still half asleep, because it takes him quite a bit of time to turn it off.  Once the chirping stops, he drops it back onto the floor with a haphazard clunk and then does a nose dive back into bed.  He assumes the koala position, wrapping himself around me. 

We are only like that for a few moments, before his phone starts making chirps and buzzing noises from the floor beside the bed.  I feel him tense around me and he pushes his nose into my shoulder blade.

"Are you going to get that or am I going to have to throw your phone down the stairs?" I ask, doing my best impression of him.  My accent veers more toward little beggar Oliver Twist than Tom and I feel him chuckle into my shoulder.

"Who would call at such a time??" He grumbles, and then moves away from me. He picks up his phone and then lies back down beside me.  I open up one eye, and I can clearly see him.  He's lying on his back, propped up by pillows slightly, and his eyes are moving quickly across his phone screen.  I open my other eye, because I can tell he's either annoyed or worried about something.

"What's up?" I ask.  My voice sounds like I've been eating sandpaper.  He is quiet for a moment, still reading and then he makes a little grunting noise.