A/N: Thank you everyone for being so patient! And so, so sorry about the confusion last night with this chapter. I updated and then WP was being an ass, so I ended up deleting the chapter. Thanks for sticking with me. Life is insane right now. I appreciate all your comments, likes, and the fact that you take time to read!
“Charlotte!” I hear my mother’s voice as soon as I step foot past the gate at BWI. “Charlotte! Over here, over here!” I look up, my vision blurry from what I can only guess is the fever that has set in. Back in Baltimore—back to real life. There’s no more posh English flat. There’s no more adorable, infuriating English potatoes. It’s just me and my mother in the small town that has become my life. That perhaps has always been my life.
“Hi Mom.” I mumble, shuffle forward and drop my bag on the tile. Mom frowns at me, crossing her thin arms over her matching pants suit. Again, I’m pretty sure it’s in the high nineties outside, and the woman is wearing linen that still looks perfectly pressed.
“You don’t look well at all. Are you sick? You look terrible.” She puts a cold, papery hand to my forehead and then she hisses softly, as if I’ve burned her. I have many sins, and she is excellent at judging, so maybe I have.
“I think I am sick. And thanks.” I sigh. She picks up my bag, which is also surprising and grabs me daintily by the sleeve of my sweatshirt. I’m shivering and sweating all at the same time. I feel like patient zero.
“Where’s Tom? Why isn’t he with you?” She asks the million dollar question as she tugs me along, directing me through the rather crowded airport. We weave through people and the motion along with Mom’s questioning makes me feel like yakking. I press my lips together, and then pull a pair of sunglasses out of my bag, slipping them onto my face. I yank my hood up, and do my best retreating turtle impression.
“Tom’s in Los Angeles.” I say softly.
“What?! I didn’t hear you. Don’t mumble, Charlotte.” Mom groans over her shoulder. I feel a wave of nausea sweep over me, and my mouth waters slightly.
“Oh, frosted flakes.” I scan the airport, looking for a bathroom. There’s never a bathroom when you need one. I flash backwards to the night Tom got drunk and yakked all over the bushes outside the cottage.
“Charlotte?” Mom turns around, realizing that I’ve stopped walking. I search desperately for a bathroom, but as I feel my stomach lurch, I have to settle for a trashcan. Trashcan, bushes, same difference. I run forward, barely making it to the big, round receptacle before throwing up. Better here than on airplane. I guess. I’m not really sure how things could get much worse, but then as I start hurling some more, Mom walks up behind me, sweeps my hair back and keeps fussing over me loudly.
“Charlotte! You’re sick!” She exclaims. “Where’s Tom?!”
****
“If you die, can I have Tiny Baker? I’ll take care of it. I’ll just rename it Mandy’s Muffin Tops.” Mandy is washing dishes, while I am lying on the couch, covered in about 4 layers of blankets. It’s been two days since the airport ralphing incident, and though I’m through the brunt of the storm, I’m still in the dwindling stages of what must be some sort of prehistoric plague.
“No. If I die, I will just haunt the bakery and it’ll be like I never left.” I moan, rolling onto my side. There is some terrible reality tv show on, and I’m watching two women fight over what looks like a pop tart. This is what my life has come down to.
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Crumbs (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)
FanfictionTom and Charlotte have only ever been friends. Really good friends. They lead totally different lives-he's a jet setting actor and she's a no nonsense, flour covered baker. When Tom finds out his fiancé is cheating, he faces an uncertain future. And...
