You curl into the sofa, cushion clutched to your chest, sobbing quietly.
The television is playing through some asinine daytime programme but you can't take in anything. Your mind races through the pictures, the words of the article. Your stomach churns as you think of the world scrutinising every pixel of those photographs... tearing what was the most wonderful moment of your dull life, into tasteless snippets of gossip.
Over the saccharine notes of the programme's closing credits, you hear Tom's voice from the other room, muffled but with frustration in his raised tone. You can't help but feel responsible, regardless of his assurances. You have caused him so much trouble.
Unable to stand the tension any longer, you flick the television off and anxiously pace the room.
Tom's voice is clearer without the TV's intrusion.
"I am extremely aware of that, Luke... Yes... I wasn't thinking, no! I just... Right. Yes. Ok. I'll be right over."
You realise you've stopped in the centre of the room, eavesdropping, still clasping the cushion to you as if it were the only thing anchoring you to reality.
There is a silence that stretches on for what seems like hours and then the soft click of a door closing.
He returns to you, fully dressed in black jeans and a faded grey t-shirt. He couldn't look more effortlessly sexy, but his face is lined with worry. His eyes meet yours, and he sighs, rushing to envelop you in his arms.
You almost collapse into them. He kisses away the tears that course down your cheeks. You hadn't even realised they had begun to fall.
"Hey now, it isn't all that bad." he breathes, trying to make his voice light.
"I'm going to have to go and see my publicist to tidy this up. Treat this place as your home, you're welcome to absolutely anything you desire. All I ask is that you don't answer the door... at least not dressed like that."
He smiles down at your bare legs and winks at you. You blurt out a sad, small chuckle, making his face breaking into his trademark grin.
"I'm so sorry..." you sniff.
He softly shushes you. His hands come up to cup your face, thumbs brushing away the wetness on your cheeks.
"None of that. This is easily remedied. Stay by your phone but don't read anything on the internet, they can be very cruel. You're worth so much more than the rubbish that they will write to sell their rags."
You nod sheepishly and lower your eyes. Then he is kissing you, tenderly, slowly, turning your insides to a thousand butterflies.
"I will see you very soon, darling. Try not to worry."
And with a final, fleeting kiss, he's gone.
"TOM! TOM! WHO'S THE MYSTERY GIRL?!"
"IS IT SERIOUS OR JUST A ONE NIGHT THING?"
"TOM! OVER HERE! JUST A QUICK WORD!"
"IS SHE STILL IN THERE MATE?!"
Blinded by camera flashes, he struggles his way to the car. He tries to smile, though it is tight-lipped and insincere. He is polite and patient in turning down their questions.
He exhales as he drives away, trying his hardest not to speed, trying to remain nonchalant.
His mind races. Luke had been incandescent with anger on the phone. Incensed that he didn't even know this girl existed, let alone that it had gotten serious enough for her to be spending the night. Who was she?
She's unbelievable. She's smart, she's lovely, she's well-read, she's funny, she's sexy... God is she sexy...
His mind wanders to the memory of her curves beneath him. Her head tipped back, fingers gripping his sheets, moaning his name deliciously. His cock twitched unbidden in his pants.
Oh yes... she's sexy...
He groans and leans forward in his seat, training his concentration back to the road. He's only round the corner from the office, he couldn't turn up with a raging hard-on. That wouldn't do him any favours.
He needed to think. This needed to be handled sensitively. He didn't want to upset his staff or his fans. And her... he couldn't upset her.
It had almost killed him this morning, seeing her so bereft. He had walked into the living room to find her stock still, marooned in the centre of the room. She looked almost child-like in his over-sized t-shirt, cuddling a cushion close to her for comfort. His chest had constricted at the the sight of her, eyes glistening with tears and anxiety.
He snapped back to reality as his destination loomed before him.
Sighing, he parked and turned off the ignition.
Time to face the music...