You Don't Have to Stay Forever.

It’s another average autumn night in London, with the occasional breezes that do nothing more than ruffle your hair and the smell of rain that invades your nostrils. It’s another premiere night for Tom as he slips on his black suit and fixes his bow tie for the hundredth time. He has tried to convince himself that tonight’s premiere is no different from any other, but it is and he notices that Anna couldn’t choose a dress, yet.

So Tom watches his girlfriend holding up two black dresses and snapping pictures of the other ten that are sprawled on their bed so she can send them to her friends. Anna’s makeup is neatly done and her hair is down in soft waves falling down her back, she is looking perfect at least to her boyfriend’s eyes.

“I don’t want to look to posh. Pick one.” The blonde girl demands to Tom, who observes the dresses and thinks for a moment that they all look the same, but this is important to her, so he doesn’t say it out loud and instead he holds up a design created by Burberry Prorsum.

“I like this one,” Anna stares at the dress, her scrutinizing green eye traveling up and down as her slender fingers feel the fabric. It is quite perfect, a long black dress is perfect for any occasion, she wouldn’t exactly stand out too much and it also kind of matched with Tom’s fancy suit.

“I will keep it in mind.” The girl says before going back to stare at the other dresses. Tom finds it ridiculous that it’s taking her so long to pick a dress, he doesn’t say anything though, doesn’t want to take the fun out of the hunt. Rather, he watched his girlfriend with an amused grin playing on his lips. He goes down to the kitchen and fixes himself a snack, time comes and goes and his blonde beauty is still upstairs stressing out.

Anna wishes she wasn’t so thick about this situation, it’s only a dress and she isn’t exactly hoping for the best. She glances at the black dress that Tom liked and makes up her mind, she will wear it, even though she isn’t completely sure about it, she will wear it because tonight it’s not about her, and she enjoys that feeling. Tonight it is about Tom and his movie, and the big grin she is hoping to see him wear while greeting fans and meeting his cast mates.

“Anna?” Tom asks, checking the time and being aware that if they don’t leave soon, they’ll be late.

Anna walks down the stairs, gazing around until she finds Tom’s blue eyes staring up at her. He tries to think of some words that could ever define Anna’s beauty; he is glad that she chose to wear the dress he liked, it just proves how much she loves him and Tom finds it endearing. She looks so beautiful, her blonde hair contrasting against the dark fabric of her dress but also melting with the golden straps around her collarbone. It’s like watching a lovely nymph, Tom tells her.

“Tom, I’m not a nymph,” Anna sighs, grabbing her fur purse and her coat.

“But you are,” he explains, “because you are funny-looking and beautiful and you look like you’ve just crawled out of a French painting.”

“And you sound like you’ve just crawled out of a Victorian painting.”

Tom rolls his eyes but smiles nevertheless, knowing that Anna doesn’t take compliments well. And Tom’s compliments, well they’re always a bit different. Always odd, but he’s never claimed to be good at this whole romance thing, so he pecks her cheek before opening the front door for her to step out.

Anna walks into the car that has been waiting for them; she can feel a funny feeling on the pit of her stomach and can’t help but wonder if she will make it through the night. The driver starts the engine and drives out of their house, there are no journalists or photographers out of their home because they still haven’t found out where they live. Anna is grateful for that, she still doesn’t know if she should be attending to the premiere.

Tom knows something is bothering her; he doesn’t need her to tell him that. However, he does know. She just won’t tell him, hiding behind a jungle of smiles and an air of stubbornness.

“I know I love you,” he says, “but you don’t really love me.”

Her eyes lock instantly with his and she studies him. “What makes you think that, darling?”

Tom, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, he doesn’t want to look at her pleading and puzzled eyes. “You always talk about this grand, imperfect love we have; but, Anna, how do I know you really love me? Because if you really loved me, you would tell me when you’re upset. You would tell me that this public appearance is a little too much for you.”

“I didn’t tell you, because I love you,” Anna snaps; and Tom should have known that his confession, that his honesty would rile her up. “Of course I’m worried, but not about me, I’m worried about you and your reputation. Everyone is suspecting that we’re having a serious relationship but this will confirm it, and I don’t want you to be harassed or judged.”

“I’ve already told you that I don’t care!” the driver announced that they have arrived to the Odeon. Tom thanked him before fixing his bow tie, again. “You can go back home, if you want to.” His voice sounded cold and harsh but also, hurt.

Anna’s heart sank by hearing his sorrow slip out of his tongue. Before she can apologize to him, Luke opens the door and Tom hops out, so she follows him and notices that her boyfriend doesn’t hold out his hand to help her out of the car like he usually does.

“Are we on time?” Tom says to his publicist, trying to avoid his girlfriend’s glare.

“Ten minutes early actually, but that’s a good thing.” Luke greets Anna with a warm smile and notices that the girl’s smile is not genuinely happy. He also notices that Tom doesn’t have his arm around her waist like he usually does and then he knows, they must have had a fight. “Are you walking with him for the photographs and fans or would you rather go straight inside and wait there?”

Anna thinks about it for a minute, if Tom keeps giving her the cold shoulder she would rather wait for him inside, but that would make him even madder.

“Do you want me to?” her question is obviously addressed to Tom. His gaze is fixed on his shiny shoes and it takes him a few seconds to look into his girlfriend’s green eyes, of course he wants her to walk along with him, but he can see the fear on her eyes so he gives a shrug. “I want an answer; yes or no.”

“And I want you to stop being afraid of what everyone will say about me, you or us!” Tom is desperate, and annoyed at her for being so daft.

“Who said I was afraid?” Anna snapped but before she could continue, Tom interrupted her.

“I can see the fear in your eyes!”

“Bollocks Tom, I’m not afraid but worried about you and only you!” Tom was ready to fight back, his anger boiling up before Luke stepped in.

“Stop this, now.” His tone was menacing and neither Tom nor Anna dared to continue their silly argument. “Anna you don’t have to worry about his career going downfall because of you; the fuss about you two is nearly over, besides, you’re loved by his fans, if you don’t trust me go to Tumblr.” The young model had to look away from the publicist’s glare; it was embarrassing how silly she was for caring so much about the bad press. “Tom, she is only worrying about you, which is a good thing, it means she loves you,” Luke saw how Tom’s eyes sparkled at the mention of Anna loving him, “now tell me, will the two of you walk together or not!”

“Yes, we are.” Anna’s confident voice is music to Tom’s ears and he tries to focus on what Luke is explaining, but he can’t. He’s too busy staring into his lover’s eyes, those eyes are no longer afraid and his beaming smile makes Anna’s heart skip a beat. This is exactly what she wanted, to see him smile that way as they walked down the red carpet in front of screaming fans and the blinding flashes of the photographers.

Tom can’t help but feel proud as the journalists congratulate him for having such a lovely girlfriend. He can’t agree more, because seeing her walk around with him is like a dream come true, Tom knows that she is used to it, unlike Susannah. And he likes the way she smiles and holds his hand as he is being interviewed, he also likes that the fans ask her to take pictures for them.

It is true that Tom thought Anna was a bit of a foolish girl, and he was in love with her despite that.

Except… now he didn’t think Anna was foolish. Now he was able to see that she’s a level-headed, free, beautiful, lovely, lively and clever. Everyone wants to fall in love with a lovely girl. Lovely like that blonde hair that cascades down her face, like the eyes greener than anything Tom can begin to describe, like the bubbly smile she has dancing on her lips as she greets his cast mates.

As he introduces his girlfriend to his mates, he feels so happy, he thinks he might burst.

“She is lovely Tom,” Natalie Portman tells him after the movie is over. Anna is chatting with Chris Hemsworth and Kat Dennings.

“She is perfect.” Tom says to Natalie, his fellow actress can’t help but notice the fire in his eyes as he glances at his girlfriend.

“Then, what are you waiting for?” Natalie isn’t a fool, she knows that look, and it’s the look that her husband gave her months before proposing; a mysterious and cheeky look, like if he was scrutinizing her.

“I’m just giving her a little bit more time.” She had to agree, because despite how deeply in love she looked with him, taking a big step like marriage was difficult.

“Well I think that she’ll say yes,” Tom beamed and thanked Natalie, he knew that she was being honest about it. Tom could only walk back to where Anna was and hold her hand, hoping that time could pass by quicker, so he could place a golden ring on her finger.

-

“Anna.”

Mumbled groans and muffled snores.

“Anna dear, it’s time to wake up.”

Light prodding and gentle cooing.

“Anna!”

And then one of the fluffy pillows from the hotel room come into contact with the sleeping model that finally jerks away, blinking around the room to find the culprit of such villainous attack, of such foul-play.

“Tom!” Anna exclaims, watching as two blue eyes stare back at her with a spark in those baby blue eyes and a gleaming smile hidden away. “What time is it?”

“Nearly five,” he says taking a seat at the end of the bed, “You slept through the whole day.”

Anna, she doesn’t know what to do, she doesn’t know whether missing the entire day is a bad thing or good thing. She’s not sure she even cares about going to the L.A premiere with Tom anymore; the only thing she suddenly cares is going back to London so she can make an appointment with her doctor. Just the day before, Anna noticed that she had missed her period, for nearly two months.

At first she thought it was a secondary effect of the pill, but after she took ten, pregnancy tests that read PREGNANT in red capital letters, she felt like banging her head against the wall. The worst bit was that she didn’t know how to tell Tom, he would obviously have a heart attack. Anna was sure that even if he would freak out, he wouldn’t back off, and that was the scary bit.

Tom was a gentleman and would do the right thing to save her honour by marrying her as soon as possible, and Anna didn’t want to marry him for the wrong reasons. It wouldn’t feel real and also she wasn’t ready to get married, no matter how much she loved Tom.

“Is something bothering you?” Tom finally asks, leaning against the wall and keeping his concerned eyes on Anna’s steady figure, studying the young model, trying to find out what’s bothering Anna on what should be a romantic sojourn to L.A.

“Nothing,” she mumbles, though her mind flickers once again to the image of Tom down on his knee proposing to her, the image of a blonde child running through the fields of Hyde Park and Tom following wearing his most beautiful grin, the beginning of the end for the two of them.

Tom, he just sighs and gives Anna a sad little frown. “You’re locking a piece of yourself away, again.”

“I’m fine.”

“Anna, what’s wrong?” Tom asks again. “Tell me, trust me.”

Anna wants to. She really wants to tell Tom about her pregnancy, about her fears about him marrying her due to it, no matter if she hurt him by saying that. Anna wants to tell Tom about their unborn child.

She wants to tell him because everything because those blue eyes promise comfort and security.

Finally, though, Anna asks, “Tom, if you wrote a story, what it would be about?”

The handsome actor, smiles in an almost sedated way like the cat who’s just had its belly rubbed, “I would write a children’s story.”

“What about?”

Anna is trying to understand how she can keep away such important information from her child’s father without giving a damn about him. It doesn’t seem right, practical or conventional that she can just do that! Then again, has Anna ever been practical or conventional?

“It would be about submarines,” Tom finally decides, grinning at the stories spinning on his fingers. “And an octopus, maybe even a magical garden, it would be about fun, love and joy.” He then pierces Anna with that stare again, the stare that makes Anna want to reveal everything, her fear, her joy, her secret. “Why? What kind of story would you write, darling?”

“I don’t know,” the blonde model murmurs.

“What do you even care about books for, Annie?” Tom asks sweetly.

Anna doesn’t care about books but the stories on them, because Tom’s life revolves around stories. His life is personified by the characters he plays, his life is represented by each word he memorizes and repeats.

If she can get into his head, if she can think like a mature woman, then maybe she’ll tell him about her pregnancy. Maybe then he won’t propose right away, instead, he will murmur soothing words in her ear, he will confess that he is just as scared as she is and that although he want to do the right thing, he won’t marry her, just yet.

“What if I ran away?”

“I’d need a new girlfriend,” Tom jokes, and Anna feels a smile tugging on her lips.

Tom. Anna can always count on her lover to cheer up any mood. She can always count on Tom to be the unknowing light in the darkness, the stitches in Anna’s heart.

“You’re not really going to run away, are you, dear?” His voice is soft and afraid, delicate almost at the thought of Anna leaving him.

“No, Tom,” Anna admits, “I don’t think I will.”

And Tom gives her a loving kiss in the lips. “C’mon. We should probably get you something to eat.”

Anna nods and follows Tom out into the L.A streets in search of some bistro. Because maybe Tom doesn’t want to know yet that his girlfriend had been pregnant for six weeks now.