On My Mind

I sat on the couch, watching the TV in a trance-like state. The show I had flipped to was not interesting in the slightest, and every passing minute felt like an hour. It was nearly ten PM, and I felt like crap. My throat felt like there was something in it, I coughed every five minutes, and I sounded like a frog when I talked. It had not been a terrible day; I’d accomplished a few things on my to-do list. However, it was killing me that my boyfriend had not talked to me at all. I’d sent him two texts, hoping he would respond. But, he only read them and didn’t reply. All day I tried to convince myself that he was super busy and could only look down at what I’d texted, that he was so engaged that he couldn’t reply. After a whole day of not talking, though, my mind was starting to overanalyze everything.

I glanced down at my phone, hoping to see his name flash across the screen as a text or an incoming call. Sigh. Nothing. I put my phone face down, a bit of force included. I knew that he’d had about three interviews and a dinner appointment, but had he completely forgotten about me? I flopped my head on the couch, coughing as I did so. “Ughhhh,” I mumbled, closing my eyes. I missed him so much. We’d never gone a full 24 hours without talking at least once. I began to doze off when the shrill ringing of my phone caused my eyes to fly open. Looking at the screen, my frown broke into a smile when I saw his picture and name. I immediately pressed the answer button.

“Hey stranger,” I said.

I heard him sigh on the other end. “Oh dear, you sound like you feel terrible. Are you sick, darling?”

I chuckled, but it sounded more like I was wheezing. “A bit. But I’ll live.”

“I’m so sorry I’ve been out of pocket today, Monica. There was more to do than I initially thought.” He paused. “May I come over and take care of you?”

I laughed, which turned into a cough. “You don’t ever have to ask to come over, Tom. You know that.” I ran a hand through my short hair; it probably looked like a tangled mass of yellow and pink.

“Good. I’ll be there soon, my love.” And then the phone clicked off, leaving me with a fluttery feeling in the pit of my stomach. A wide smile took over my lips, and I closed my eyes. Perhaps a little nap before he got there wouldn’t hurt….

++++++++++++++++++++

I awoke to the sounds of someone in the kitchen, pots and pans clanging together mixed with strains of classical music. Inhaling, I took in the delicious smell of fresh soup. I smiled when I peeked over the couch and saw Tom, looking absolutely dashing in one of my aprons. His dark auburn hair was styled perfectly, as usual, the shadow of a beard visible on his face. Only he would be humming along to classical music while making soup. I sank back down onto the couch, stretched, and sighed. “Tom?” I said aloud, my voice a bit weak.

Before I knew it, Tom was at my side, his beautiful blue eyes looking down at me as he stroked my hair. “Yes, my darling. I’m here. Are you hungry?”

I brought my hand up to his face, tenderly touching his brow. “Absolutely.” I smiled at the excited look on his face. He took my hand and pulled me up, eyes flickering down to my lips. As he bent his head toward my lips, I put my hand up as a barrier. “Tom…I’m sick. I don’t think kissing would be appropriate right now.”

Tom grinned mischievously. “Who ever said I was appropriate?” And with that, he closed the space between our lips. The kiss was gentle, the pressure of his mouth on mine the perfect amount. His arms wound around my waist, slightly pulling me against his chest. “I love you,” he said, then gave me another quick peck.

“I love you, too,” I answered, smiling up at him. Then, taking his offered arm, I let him lead me into the kitchen. “What kind of soup did you make? It smells amazing.”

My boyfriend let go of me for a moment to stir the soup in question. “Chicken noodle, your favorite.” He brought the spoon out of the pot with steaming noodles and liquid on it. “Try some, darling.”

I blew the contents of the spoon when he brought it close to my lips, then allowed him to feed me. The soup was absolutely delicious; my taste buds screamed in delight. “Mmmmm. That is incredible, Tom.” I looked up at him thankfully. “Thank you so much. You’re wonderful.” I wrapped my arms around his middle, my head only touching the upper part of his chest. The man was so tall, he made me look like a dwarf.

“I do try…for you.” He pulled away slightly and touched my nose with his finger. “Why don’t you go and sit down and I will serve you.”

I shook my head. “Tom, that’s not necessary. You must be exhausted.”

“You’re feeling poorly. I insist, Monica,” Tom replied, his perfect voice enunciating every syllable. I sighed; I could never argue with him because of that darn accent. I walked the short distance to the table, allowing Tom to pull my chair out for me. He was always a gentleman; I loved that about him.

There was a comfortable silence as he went back into the kitchen and prepared my meal. I coughed a bit, then spoke again. “How were all your appointments today?”

“Extremely long. But I always have fun with interviews.” Tom placed a steaming bowl of soup and a spoon in front of me. “I missed you terribly, though. I’m so sorry I never got the chance to text you back. It was quite a demanding day.” He placed another bowl at the spot in front of me and sat down.

I blushed; so he had been thinking about me. “I thought you’d forgotten about me.”
Tom’s brows furrowed, and he reached across the table to take my hand. “Of course not, darling. “You’re always on my mind.” He chuckled. “Silly girl. Eat your soup.”

I giggled, taking my spoon and dipping it into the soup. We were silent for the first few moments as we ate, but then we started to talk about random things. That was normally how our conversations started, with a random topic usually brought up by me. When we finished eating, Tom made me take some cough medicine that he’d bought and popped Edward Scissorhands into the DVD player. We cuddled together on the loveseat, my head against his chest. His hand traced patterns along my back, his other hand resting on my leg. I was a huge fan of Tim Burton movies; my knowledge of Burton trivia rivaled Tom’s love of Shakespeare. So, every time we watched one of Tim Burton’s movies, I always had a random fact to share. However, I was too content to say anything and ruin the moment I was having with Tom.

At the end of the movie, he must’ve noticed my odd silence. “Are you all right, darling?” he asked as the credits rolled down the screen. “You never told me anything special about the film.”

I sat up, smiling drowsily. “I didn’t want to ruin the moment.”

Tom grinned, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “I believe someone is tired.” He stood and stretched, then swept me off of the couch and into his arms. “Allow me to carry you to your bed.” He walked down the short hallway to my bedroom, turning on the light and then gently laying me on my bed. I sighed happily as Tom turned the light off and slipped under the covers beside me. “Are you all right with this, my love? I don’t want to invade your space without your permission.” Forever the gentleman.

I moved closer to him, the warmth of his body drawing me in. “My space is your space, Tom,” I replied. “I love you…” I whispered.

“And I love you, my dear Monica,” Tom breathed, finding my hands in the darkness. His long fingers intertwined with mine, and then he brought my hand to his lips. "Will you be able to sleep?"

I chuckled. "Only if you give me a kiss goodnight."

Tom laughed darkly, reminding me of Loki. Somehow, his lips found mine in the dark, his hands pulling me flush against him as our mouths competed in a slow, passionate race. My hands found their way to his hair, tangling in the soft curls as the kiss became more urgent. After a few more moments of pure bliss, Tom pulled away. "How was that?" he asked, his breathing heavy.

"Perfect." I smiled as his arms went around me.