Friends, Lovers, or Nothing

I breathed in deeply, letting the air out slow as I paced around my room. Adrenaline coursed through my veins from both emotion and physical exertion. I had just gone on an insanely long, mind-clearing run. I thought. I thought and I thought and I hadn't the slightest idea what to do. Part of me didn't know why I was freaking out about this so much. I was trying to become a well-known actress, and Tom was already quite famous. Shouldn't I have been expecting this?

But I hadn't expected this, that was the thing. And I didn't know if I was ready.

My phone buzzed, and I swiped it from its hiding spot in my sheets. Tom: Good morning, darling.

I ran my hand through my hair, throwing my phone forcefully onto my bed. I aimlessly turned on my feet, looking about my room. I felt like I was going insane. I didn't know what I wanted to do, where I wanted to be, or who I wanted to talk to.

I picked my phone up again, quickly making the call I knew would help. Jenny answered in less than a ring. "Grace! God, what took you so long?"

"I can't do this." I murmured.

"Grace...relax. What are you talking about?"

"I can't do it!" I raised my voice, my emotions getting the best of me. I felt my nose sting with the rise of tears. "I can't be that girl for him. I'm not strong enough. I can't be me, and Tom Hiddleston's girlfriend. Not right now."

"You're not even going to give him a chance?" Jenny asked softly.

No, I thought to myself. I always did this. I decide that I want someone, and if I should be so lucky to get them, they're not what I want anymore. The chase is over and it's no longer in my interests. What a typical, immature little girl I was.

"I gave in too easily." I said slowly. Jenny knew what I was talking about. She knew my patterns.

"It's not too late to change it." She was making a good effort. She was close to getting me back to reality, but not close enough.

"But it is."

She paused. "Okay, Grace. As long as it makes you happy. Will it? Will this make you happy?"

No. It wouldn't make me happy. I was scared. This thing between Tom and I was finally a real thing. It was a relationship. Sure, some of Tom's fans could be crazy, but couldn't I handle it for him? Wasn't he worth it? I knew he could make me happy. Plus, I hadn't even talked to him about it yet. Maybe he'd say something that would completely calm my anxiety.

"I don't know. I guess we'll see. I'll talk to you later, Jenny." I solemnly hung up the phone. I quickly texted Tom, asking if he could meet.

---

After hearing a soft knock at my door, I opened it and rested my eyes on Tom. He wore a navy t-shirt, black jeans, and his black motorcycle jacket with boots. I had just showered from my run, and had on a big t-shirt and shorts. I guess I was just comfortable around him and I didn't feel like I always had to look my best. And I had no idea where this was going to go.

"Morning," He said, kissing my cheek. I gave him a small smile and returned the pleasantry before leading him to the kitchen. I poured us both a mug of coffee, fixing them the way we preferred and sitting down.

Tom looked at me with his big, blue eyes. His slender fingers folded around the mug, cupping the coffee. "Is there something you wanted to talk about?"

I took a deep breath before getting into it. "Your fans know. Someone took pictures of us last night."

He brought his hand to the side of his face, stroking his stubble in thought. "That fast, huh?"

He seemed bothered, that was for sure, but he definitely didn't take it as hard as I did. It didn't appear that his first thought was run. I nodded, biting my lip so that only my top lip was visible. I couldn't tell if I wanted to scream or cry or both.

"So, our relationship isn't very private anymore, or at least it won't be. I'm already under the scrutiny of your fans." I said. I didn't mean anything bad by it. I had been one of them before I knew Tom. Never as extreme as some of them were, but I was like them all the same.

Tom did that positively irresistible and infuriating thing with his lips, licking them and then pressing them firmly together to dry them. His calmness made me want to break enough shit for the both of us. It was time to tell him how I really felt. No more gentleness.

"Tom, I don't think I can do this." His eyes shot up to mine, wide with fear.

"Wh-" He was at a loss for words. "That's not fair," He said, almost a whine. "Why do I have to lose you to my fans?" He was obviously flustered now.

"I'm just not ready for this. I was okay with it when this was private, but now I'm the subject the fangirl hate? I'm making a name for myself in ways that I don't want to. It's only a matter of time before I get threats," I explained, rather angry at both the fact that this wasn't fair to either of us, and that he couldn't see where I was coming from.

"But I have fans because of you," He said matter-of-factly. I raised my eyebrows at him. What was he talking about?

"Care to explain that?" I asked, growing annoyed.

"I met you right around the time I was getting fame for The Avengers, and the fans were starting to take on a life of their own. I had always been kind to them, but it was getting to a point where I didn't know how to keep a good face around them anymore. I didn't know what to do, but then I met you. I kept up being the good guy because I wanted to impress you. And when we became so close, you proved to me that good people really do exist. You gave me a new outlook, and you got me where I am today. Grace, I need you."

This was shocking to me, as his friend and as a fan of his. It was the first time I had seen him without the "perfect" facade since that party way back when. "Tom, maybe we just need to take a break-"

His light blue eyes grew darker. "You know, the only reason I made you wait so long is because I wanted to make sure you wouldn't do this! I knew you loved me. You made it bloody obvious. You pretty much gave yourself to me. I wanted to test you. I thought you'd be okay, but you've clearly fooled me."

I recoiled from him, standing up from the table. His words stung. Everything he said reaffirmed my earlier insecurities. I was hurt, but of course he was going to act all high and mighty. "Get out," I seethed.

He stood up, his six feet and three inches towering over me. He opened his mouth but I slapped him across the face before he could say anything. My nostrils flared at him in disbelief and anger, while my mouth stayed in a thin line, my teeth gritted. "You think you're so much better than me? Then get out. And don't talk to me ever again."

Tom huffed angrily before storming out. I slammed the door behind him, staring at it in shock for a minute before falling into my couch, hitting the cushions angrily and finally calming down into a sob.

What just happened?