Strangers

A/N== This story is kinda based around the song "til we ain't strangers anymore" so listen along if you want! And as a note anything in the ( ) is the follow along for the lines of the song!

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The restaurant was a quaint little place, unknown to her previous to today, but it’s entirely what she expected from him. They sat across from each other not unlike they had in the past, but this time was different; the air dense with words unsaid and feelings betrayed. Never before had she remembered a time that it was this awkward to be around him, she had known him for years, ever since they were in the same class at RADA. But this was a different time than those.

(Might be hard to be lovers, but its harder to be friends.)

“How are you?” His perfect accent weakening her resolve before staring back at her menu.
“Really?”
“It is the way most people start a conversation.”
“We aren’t most people anymore, are we Tom?”
He put his menu down and looked at the brunette in front of him. Layla saw this act, but refused to acknowledge his staring.
“Layla.” His voice was just above a whisper as his eyes pleaded with the top of her head, hoping to get her to look at him finally.
She would not deny that she had missed him in the years they were apart, but she also was not going to let him off as easily as he had hoped.
“Darling, I’m sorry.”

(Don’t you think its time we say some things we haven’t said)

His lackluster apology finally made Layla put down her menu. “Convincing. I know you can do better than that, love.”
“I can’t think of anything better to say.”
“My goodness, for the first time since I’ve met him Thomas Hiddleston can’t think of anything better to say.”
Sardonically chuckling, Tom leaned back in his chair. “I guess I deserved that one.”
“You deserve two years worth of it, love.”
The pair had been inseparable during their days at RADA, but their story had taken a different turn 2 years ago when fame had finally reached him. She wasn’t jealous of him, not in the least; she knew he was meant for more and that his talent was too much for the small town theatres of home. She was sad that fame could take him away from her so easily. He texted, called if she was lucky and he had time to kill. They had tried to make ‘dates’ (in which they never ended up leaving the house) earlier on, when he was still relatively unknown. But when Tom blew up, he disappeared from her.

(Sometimes its hard to love me, sometimes its hard to love you too)

“It’s a good thing I have big shoulders, Layla.”
“You wouldn’t need such big shoulders if you hadn’t created anything to carry on them.”
“I don’t believe that this was all my doing.”
Before she had the chance to respond, the waitress came to take their orders. Considering they were both actors, neither of them had any trouble pausing their personal drama to turn on the happy faces for the staff catering to them. After she left, Layla turned her gaze back to the lean man before her.
“What did you want me to do? Leave London and court around Los Angeles giving up my life and hiding in the shadows while you bask in the lime light?”
“Did I ever give the impression that’s what I wanted you to do?”
“What else would I have done?”
He loved her, and he knew that she loved him; but he wasn’t afraid to admit that she was one of the most stubborn people he had ever met in his life.
“Don’t play the martyr in all of this. I gave you the choice and you declined. You made it clear for many years that you made your own decisions, so don’t blame me for your poor choices, darling.”

(I know its hard believing that love can pull us through)

“Why did you bring me here, Tom? So you could sit here and show me how much better your life has become since you left and how mine is still in the same place it was?”
His eyes softened from the hard glare they had settled in before and he leaned forward.
“You really think that low of me? After all this time?”
She didn’t respond right away, he was getting past her armor and he knew it; he was the only one who knew the ways to break it down, even if it was taking longer the added years they were apart.
“Then why are we here?”
“Don’t you miss me?”
A small smirk started to appear on her face, but she was unaware.
“Well there’s my answer right here, darling.”
She leaned back in the chair folding her arms over her chest, the smirk growing slightly.
“You’ll never get me to admit it, love.”
His signature grin started to weave its way onto his familiar features. The familiarity and warmth that was present in the past with him was creeping its way back into her.

(It would be so easy to live your life with one foot out the door)

“You never change, do you?”
“I try not to.” She gave in and leaned on the table with her forearms, breaking the silent protest she had created against him.
His smile softened and he reached across the table for one of her hands, which seemed child-like in comparison to his. For a second she considered pulling her hand back, not allowing him the pleasure of the small amount of contact. He noticed the twitch in the hand that rested flat on the table and sighed as he grabbed it running his thumb softly over the top of it.
“Are you ever going to trust me again?”
In her mind she already knew the answer to his question, she always would; no matter what. But she wasn’t privy to letting him know that.
“I haven’t decided yet.”
He scoffed again, but before he could retort the waitress came back with their meals. She was pleased this time for the welcomed disruption, as all she wanted at this moment was to be left with her thoughts and her company. She didn’t want to discuss much more at the moment.
But she knew him, and she knew he would not let it go as easily as she had hoped. The pair sat in silence for a few moments, beginning their meals before he broke the comfortable silence she was just beginning to enjoy.
“Are you ever going to decide? Or are we going to play a game for the rest of our lives?”
She stopped in mid bite, fork in her mouth and all, staring at him. She finished the bite, chewed and set down her fork.
“The rest of our lives Mr. Hiddleston?”
“You know what I mean. You never used to be one step in and one foot out.”
“A lot has changed. And the hardest thing for me to do is fight the battle between my instinct and my intellect.”
“Oh?” He wondered what explanation (excuse) she would come up with next.
“I’m smart enough to know not to, but you know I’m going to anyway.” She finished with a chuckle.
Yes, it may have been half an insult to him, but he was still pleased enough with the answer to chuckle and smile contentedly and allowing him to finish the rest of his meal in peace.

(It’s hard to find forgiveness when you just turn out the lights)

The pair finished their meal not bringing up the dense topic again, but instead falling into the pleasant small talk that they were used to. They laughed, reminisced, it felt just like old times. But they both knew that her last statement of purpose was one that released the weight that hung over them. They excited the restaurant his hand on the small of her back closely guiding her yet silently protecting her. They reached the street and she turned to him, she looked different than she had in the restaurant, an uncomplicated air that he had been wishing for all evening.
“Well, where do we go from here Thomas?”
He stared at her for a second, taking everything about her in; her dark curls, her pale face, the way her light pink dress fit on her torso. He reached into his pocket pulling out a set of keys and detaching one, opening her hand placing it in the center and folding her fingers over it again.
“Meet me at my flat.”
She looked at him with a curious gaze but did not object.
“I have to stop at the store, but I trust you’ll let me in?”
“You may think too much of me,” she smirked and bounced up on her toes, putting her face close to his cheek, whispering, “I might just want to hear you beg.” She placed a light kiss on his cheek before lowering herself again and heading off in the direction of her car, which was, parked a few spaces down from where he stood. Before getting into the car, she threw a quick glance at him over her shoulder. He stood in the same spot with a subtle grin on his face, but looking at her somewhat quizzically. She may not have spoken the words that she forgave him, but they both knew she had, and there was no denying they both missed each other.
She did as she was told and went right to Tom’s flat. Letting herself in, she looked around taking in the sight. He still lived in the same flat he had before, but the belongings he had inside had increased greatly; not in number, but in worth. It undeniably looked like the flat of a bachelor in the prime of his life and she chuckled to herself at the unusual clichéd area. She wandered through; laying her belongings on a small table that was sitting beside the expansive leather couch now in the place of the old ratty one he had owned since his college days. She ran her hand along the back of it stopping to use it as support to take her shoes off, leaving them where she was standing. After a few minutes of standing behind the couch looking around the familiar setting, there was a knock on the door. A smirk played on her lips as she sauntered over to the door and stood, leaving it unopened. She put on her best innocent voice and answered the knock.
“Who is it?”
A soft chuckle melted its way through the door. “Darling.” His voice almost held a reprimanding tone.
“I said I wanted to hear you beg.” She replied in an almost sing song tone.
He sighed and put his hand on the doorframe, leaning his weight onto it. “Please, darling.” He heard a small metal noise from the other side of the door and saw it open, but not fully because she had chained the door. He looked through it revealing her Cheshire grin adorned face.
“You’re an actor love. I know you can do better.”
“You’re being quite the cheeky one tonight, aren’t you?”
“You’re the fool who gave me your key.”
Getting as close to her through the bit of the open door as he could, he turned on the charm.
“Darling, I would love nothing more than to be on the other side of this door with you. Please let me join you, we can’t have any fun with this piece of wood between us.”
She smirked and narrowed her eyes, “what kind of fun are we talking?”
He chuckled and held up the bottle of wine that was in his other hand and she closed the door at the sight of it. Seconds later he heard the metal of the chain clinking and not far after that the door opened. He stepped into his home coming dangerously close to her.
“If I had known it was that easy.” His voice significantly softer than before.
“Promise of wine and a good time can get you far.”
“Who promised a good time?” he joshed.
She snickered, “you’re always a good time when there’s wine around, love.” With that, she turned and headed towards the couch again, for a second he stood and watched her, then snapped back into reality and headed for the kitchen closing the door behind him. He watched as she placed herself on the couch, propping her feet up on his table and getting comfy. Moments later he was back by her side with the bottle and two glasses. She watched as his slender fingers opened it and poured them each a glass and handed one to her before taking the spot beside her. She inhaled a deep waft of it before taking a drink.
“Breaking out the good stuff tonight are we, Mr. Hiddleston?”
“Only the best for you darling.”
She snorted at this before taking another drink. “Bull.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t you remember that before you became Tom Hiddletson, America’s favourite Brit, we used to live on the most disgusting, dirt cheap wine around?”
“In my defense, it was the best I could do at the time.” He chuckled before taking a drink of his own.
“I like what you’ve done with the place.” She hopped up off the couch, walking around inspecting the place for a second time, this time paying more attention to the details of the flat; trinkets, pictures, the small stuff. Walking past one of the many tables he had scattered around the large living room, she stopped and ran her hand over an old box. It was a small box, just big enough for a couple trinkets, but the top was a worn superman logo; his favourite superhero. “I can’t believe you still have this piece of junk. “ she chuckled to herself and turned back to him, looking at him as she took a drink from her glass.
“Of course. My favourite superhero given to me by my favourite girl. Priceless”
She turned back to the box and ran her hand over it one more time. She stared at it for a few moments before taking the last drink of her glass and turning back to the couch. She put her glass down on the table and sat in her previous spot, this time pulling her legs under her and facing Tom.
“Am I still your favourite girl?”
He reached for a loose curl and ran it through his fingers. “Who else would there be?”
“Even after all this time?”
He let the curl fall and moved his hand to her cheek, brushing his fingers over it lightly.
“There’s never been anyone better.”
He noticed the light blush that started to appear on her cheeks and smiled to himself happy that he could still have this effect over the girl. She stared at the couch, not wanting to look up knowing very well that her cheeks held a rosy tint to them. Instead of furthering the conversation at hand, she switched the topic.
“Your old couch was much cozier.”
He let out a soft chuckle at the randomness of her thought. “Perhaps it was because that one had been broken in.” His hand still rested at the base of her cheek, enjoying the feeling of her soft skin on his.
She raised an eyebrow at him a smirk playing on her lips. “Broken in?”
“Why yes darling, you must remember the good use we put that couch too.”
She laughed, closing her eyes as the blush returned to her face. “Of course.”
At that, she felt him release her cheek and opened her eyes to see him placing his own empty glass on the table in front of them. He returned to her, closer than before and she added.
“How could I forget?”
He completely closed the gap between their bodies by beginning to push her down to lay her on her back. “The only proper thing to do is start breaking this one in, and perhaps one day it will be just as cozy.”
She started to say something in return to him, but he stopped her capturing her lips with his and sliding his hand around to the back of her head, tangling it in her soft curls.

(Tell me who you think you see when you look into my eyes)

Her hand slid to the back of his neck, running through the small curls that were set there and the other moved to rest on his arm. They stayed like that for several minutes, relishing in the feeling of being in each others arms again before she pulled back.
“What is it darling?”
“Were you serious?”
He returned her question with a confused look, but never faltered from the position he had worked himself into. “About?”
“Being your favourite, after all this time.”
The hand that wasn’t currently in her hair moved up to cup her cheek again. “Why don’t you believe me?”
“I don’t know, I just don’t see mr. Hollywood being content with me anymore.”
“Who do you see when you look at me?”
She gave him the same confused stare she had earned just moments earlier.
“Tom?”
“Exactly. You still see me as me, and I don’t see you as any less than you were before just because I’m on a bigger screen. You’re it, darling.”

(Let’s put our two hearts back together and we’ll leave the broken pieces on the floor)

At those words, she closed her eyes and breathed a small sigh of relief. She had wanted to hear those words from him for too long to not take the time to cherish them as they deserved. Eyes still closed, she felt his thumb brush across her cheek and soft lips placed in the center of her forehead. Opening her eyes, she looked up into his.
“Do you believe me now?”
“As long as you can assure me I’m not dreaming.”
He chuckled softly and captured her lips in his again. “If you are, so am I; and if that’s the case, let’s never wake up.

(Make love with me baby, ‘til we ain’t strangers anymore)