The sunlight streaming through the window is what wakes you. For a second, you don't recognize your surroundings but, as you register the warm, sleeping form next to you, it all comes rushing back.
I slept with Tom Hiddleston last night. I slept with Tom... Hiddleston.
The notion staggers you and juvenile excitement rises in you, making you feel restless and almost like you want to jump around the room. You look at him, sleeping soundly next to you. It's the first time you've been able to study him up close, without interruption.
He is awe-inspiringly handsome. All chiseled cheekbones and jawline. Even his overnight stubble becomes him, and, with his sex-ruffled hair, he is the sexiest thing you've ever seen. You're fighting the urge to kiss him awake now, though you know when he does, those oceanic eyes will be there to paralyse you even further.
As silently as you can, you slip out of bed. You scout around for your underwear but find the knickers rendered utterly unwearable by Tom in his lust. Instead, you slip on his t-shirt and head to the bathroom.
After using the loo and splashing some cold water on your face, you wrench out the bone-dry contacts that you fell asleep in and wander to the living room to retrieve your glasses from the handbag you left there.
I could absolutely murder a cup of tea...
The thought turns to action and you pad round to the kitchen.
If I were a mug, where would I live?
Quietly, you search the cupboards for two mugs and set about making the drinks, cursing Tom's kettle for having such a loud boil. You scan your memories from the café to recall how he takes his tea. You think you have it right. No you're certain. It is mercifully easy to find the other bits and pieces that you need to make the tea and before long, you're done.
You cross to the fridge, humming faintly, to pop the milk back. As you shut the door, you jump and let out a little yelp as you are faced with the figure leaning in the doorway.
So much for being quiet.
He leans there, smiling at you, his hair still tousled, glasses perched on his nose. He's only wearing jogging bottoms and you have to stop yourself staring at him.
"You menace!" you grin at him, clutching your chest, "You scared the devil out of me!"
He laughs and moves over to you, arms wrapping around your waist. He kisses you softly, just behind your ear, and whispers;
"I'm awfully sorry about that but... I appear to have lost my t-shirt."
The mere sight of this woman, tiptoeing about his kitchen, desperately trying not to wake him is enough to make his chest ache.
She's so selflessly thoughtful.
As he kisses down her neck, he feels her relax into him. She smells of sex and sleep and his sheets and cinnamon.
"Um, I made you tea..." she stammers.
He smiles against her neck and whispers his thanks, his lips against her neck making her shudder. Her hands have come to rest on his chest and her fingers are tracing patterns there, bringing goosebumps to his skin.
He leans up to look at her. She's beautiful even with slept-in make-up, hair all bed-head curls, drooping around her face. She looks up to meet his gaze and looks like she might be about to say something, before deciding against it and lowering her eyes to his chest.
"What is it?" he says, tilting her chin upwards gently.
Concern laces his voice and she stutters as she begins to speak.
"I... I just want you to know that I... I never do... this, you know? It's completely out of character. I'm really not that kind of girl... I just... I don't know. I felt like I would burst if I didn't touch you."
She isn't lying, isn't saying this just to please him. He can see that. It's written all over her face, the bashfulness over what they did last night making her cheeks redden.
He smiles down at her and kisses her softly.
"I know." he replies, "Trust me, I don't make a habit of it myself."
She smiles coyly at this and giggles.
"I don't know what you've done to me, lady, but I just can't seem to get you out of my mind."
"My tea-making skills?" she jokes.
He laughs and replies, "You certainly know a way to a man's heart!"
She flushes pink again at his words and he kisses her playfully, smiling against her lips. The kiss deepens as he feels her body press against him. His cock twitches at the thought of bending her over the counter-top and pushing into her. He breaks their kiss but keeps her pulled close to him.
"I must say, that shirt looks far better on you." he says, his voice deep with lust.
"Well, you know, you owe me something, considering I am going to have to spend the day with no knickers."
His eyebrow shoots up, and he lifts her up into his arms, wrapping her legs about his waist.
"Now, there's an enchanting thought..."