„It’s horrible,“ Dev sighs on the other end of the phone, making Tom frown. “Some stupid people do something horrible, and suddenly everyone has to suffer.”

His girlfriend sounds said, and if Tom is honest, also a little afraid. It hasn’t been a good month for her, her brother, and their little Bed and Breakfast in Ireland.

Some idiots thought their beliefs are more important than the religion of others, attacking churches over the Easter holidays. Life hasn’t been the same since then in Ireland though the people do stand together, and Tom knows that especially the businesses depending on tourists are suffering right now.

Just as Dev, her brother Michael, and his wife Michelle. Reservations are cancelled, and they all can be happy they all have jobs that don’t involve the hotel industry.

Still, she’s too stubborn to let him help. Even when he went to her during ‘the Christmas from hell’ as they named it, he was only allowed to do as much as managing the phone and serving food. He loves her stubbornness though, just as he loves her.

It doesn’t change the fact that he wants to help, though.

“Do you need me there? Do you need support?” He knows that Dev knows ‘support’ means money. But he’d never ask directly, and she’d never accept anyway.

“No. You have your play. You need to be there,” is the expected answer.

“I could let my understudy go in.”

“Yeah. And then I could have an angry mob of fangirls run after me and kill me.”

He tries to hold in his snickers, he really does. He loves his fans, but Tom has to admit that Dev is right in some aspects.

“Okay. I want you alive, obviously.”

Dev snorts. “Well, thank you.”

He rolls his eyes, but he knows they’re both just joking around. “Let me finish, woman.”

“Sorry.”

“I want you alive, obviously. So. Come to me, please. Watch the show, have a good time. Let me make you have a good time.”

“Tom…”

“No. I mean it. You can take the time off. And the flight is on me. I want to see you, I want to hug you, and I absolutely need to kiss you.” He stops for a moment. “Please. After Easter, I need to know that you’re okay.”

There’s silence on Dev’s end. Then shuffling and maybe a bit of sniffing. “Okay.”
***

Tom shifts from one foot to the other. It’s busy at Heathrow airport, but he’s disguised himself pretty well. A cap hides his curls, sunglasses his eyes, and he changed his trusty coat in order to appear less noticeable.

And if not, who cares? The plane from Dublin his girlfriend was on has just landed, he hasn’t seen her in two months, and it’s his rare late morning off, before he needs to be on stage in the evening again.

If someone snaps a picture of him hugging the hell out of Dev, then so be it. He’ll frame it.

Before Tom can think about it some more, the first people stream out into the Arrivals area. He holds the sheet reading “Devy” a little tighter and shifts again. Any moment now.

And then there she is. Before he can really think about just how tired she looks – and worried – Dev spots him, gasps and then there’s a body crashing into him.

The paper is crumpled when they hug, holding each other close. Tom inhales deeply. She still smells like vanilla, peaches, and cookies. Like her. Like home. She’s warm, and she’s breathing rapidly against his neck, her arms wrapped tightly around Tom’s waist.

“I’ve missed you.”

Tom chuckles. “You too. Are you okay?”

“I am now.”

He’s too.
***

There’s an almost timid knock on his dressing room door. One he almost can’t hear it amidst the laughter in the room.

But Tom knows who’s on the other side and rushes to open it instead of the usual shout of “Come in!” he’s perfected during the run of the play.

“Hush, act professional,” Charlie mock whispers behind him, and Tom rolls his eyes before he swings the door open.

On the other side stands Dev, beautiful in her blue and white striped dress, her brown hair down and her brown eyes shining, just a bit of make-up helping to bring out the colour in them.

She also looks a bit unsure looking up at him and then leaning around him, waving at his co-stars. “Hi.”

“Hello,” echoes from Charlie, his wife, Zawe, and her boyfriend in the room. Stage door will have to wait for a bit tonight. There are (girl)friends needing to catch up.

Dev has ‘met’ them during a Skype call and then some during the run of the play.

“Have you noticed your boyfriend throwing food at the audience?” Charlie mocks. He deserves it, though. Tom’s not sure there won’t be a piece of melon offered on EBay later that night. ‘Chewed on by Tom Hiddleston’ maybe.

Dev giggles and smiles, and Tom can’t even be mad at either of them. Not even at Zawe, who joins in with an, “It was his best acting.”

“Don’t listen to them,” Tom growls playfully as he wraps Dev in his arms and kisses the top of her head.

“I’d never,” she winks. “You are the best actor to ever act. You’re just not good at eating.”

“Shut up.”

“I love you, though.”

“I love you too.”

Dev smiles up at him. She’s smiled all day, actually, and Tom is confident she will continue to do so in the upcoming two weeks she’s staying with him in London.

He leans down, ignoring the other people in the room. Their lips meet, her lipstick tasting like raspberries. She moans into him – just a little – and presses closer against him.

They sigh simultaneously, making Charlie behind them cackle.

Tom leans down to whisper in her ear. “I’ll never live this down if we give them more of a show.”

Dev grins and winks. “Later. Promise.”