The container of Lemon and Ginger herbal tea she had been gratefully sipping from suddenly didn't look like the best option available to her upon entering the flat she loved. She never failed to appreciate the fairy lights, the purple walls, the art supplies and the little ornaments that adorned the old oak shelves. It was clean and cosy and when the incense burnt and become infused in the air with the smell of paint, it felt like a sanctuary from the long days at the library.
The cold that plagued her seemed to alleviate at the very sight of him. She hadn't expected him for weeks yet, as a Shakespearean scholar his job kept him away from her, but she could smell him the second he entered her home. Old spice and the scent of clean washing powder. She knew he was there and her heart beat faster.
Shrugging off her red trench coat, she was glad the black pencil skirt and purple silk blouse she had selected today were still presentable, her makeup, on reflection of the antique mirror in the hall, was fine and her Scarlett hair had remained in its 1950's twist.
"Tom? Tom, you here?" she couldn't keep the illness out of her voice, days now she had been ill. He told her to get some rest and to stay in bed but the library needed her.
She entered her living room, and inadvertently sucked in a breath. He always stole her breath, from the topaz blue eyes to the cheekbones she jokingly claimed she could cut glass on. The tailored suit and suede shoes gave him the air of a male model.
"Ah, I truly was beginning to wonder when you'd grace our home with your presence. Its past six o'clock. Now, am I forgetting a vital detail of your contract or are you only supposed to be there until five?"
His voice. It grabbed the attention of everyone he met, the smooth syllables and deep pitch truly showcased the intellect she knew he possessed. It had grabbed her attention that night at the theatre after-party. The champagne had flowed and she, as volunteer backstage supervisor, should have been basking in the glowing compliments and endearments of another production pulled off to perfection. Instead, she had focused just on him, his voice, his knowledge, his stories.
"erm, I had to –atchoo!" the sneeze took her off guard and in a second he was propelled with a smoulderingly intense look of concern, his muscled arms around her waist.
"I wanted you to stay in bed. Doctors orders, remember?"
"You're not a medical doctor actually"
"PHD, still get the title. Now, were going to have to get you into bed for the whole weekend, under constant supervision by a professional, I'm afraid" the tender kiss swallowed her smirks at his silliness.
"And who would that doctor be?"
She couldn't help but shriek when he picked her up bridal style and started to proceed to the bedroom with her in his arms.
"I'm more than willing, and don't worry, you're going to get all the TLC you need Mrs Hiddleson. "
And just as he carried her through the door, the smells of incense and tea and paint mixed with aftershave. She smiled, heaven.