I’m actually wearing make up *gasp of shock* it’s just mascara and lip gloss but shhh… I’m working my way up to foundation/concealer and the rest of it aha. It’s enough to cause anxiety as it is changing this much.
I can’t fucking use Instagram because I get so anxious seeing my own face on there idk why it’s just like …… people from school used to make fun of my Instagram a lot and I literally hate it !! Like I want to be able to post selfies and stuff like that on there because honeslty i don’t think I’m ugly or disgusting but it gives me so much fucking anxiety I want to DIE
and she’ll burst—
like a sun-kissed wave crashing against the shore; like a monochrome painting tearing at the seams
and she’ll bloom—
like a heart-shaped moon against a pitch-black sky; like pure sunlight seeping into your skin
and she’ll fade—
like a bird trapped in a blizzard, like a young star dying for the sake of the universe
when the clouds of men pull their dark cloaks over her starlit eyes.
On a lighter note of our precious baby vanishing in thin air, what did he really want to say?
In reference to this panel in 453:
So flash forward to 538 when Natsu, Lucy, Happy and Gray are walking back:
What I’d like to point out is while Lucy and Gray are talking, they are oblivious to the interaction of Natsu and Happy, as many readers are as well. The focus in this panel was meant to be on Gray and his relationship with Juvia, but I couldn’t help but notice Natsu’s seemingly embarrassed and anxious face and Happy’s scared (if you could call it that) face. It seems Happy mentioned something to Natsu during the conversation of the relationship Juvia and Gray, something that is possibly related in some way to Gray’s unclear relationship with Juvia who loves him. Maybe something along the lines of him and Lucy? Whichcauses Natsu to react in a embarrassed and panicked state. I can practically hear Natsu telling Happy to shut up, because the war is finally over and now it’s time to do what he said he was going to do (which he also swore he’d do whatever it was in front of Lucy as well).
Plus, in 520, whatever Natsu wanted to do we can rest assured differed from Zeref and Acnologia, since it was stated above. I doubt Natsu knows that Acnologia has been defeated (for now) so we can rest assured he wasn’t going to talk about fighting or anything like that. Plus, can we please note that he wanted to do/say whatever it was and that took PRIORITY over defeating Zeref and Acnologia. Natsu’s first thought went to whatever he wanted to do and THEN Zeref. Whatever he was going to say is very important to him, even more so then him dying or the impending (and almost over) war.
And I just wanted to throw this little cap in from 521 as well. Here we see that even as Natsu went into a demon/END mode he was still conscious that he thought that Lucy died. This is still a lingering fear of Natsu’s I believe, that Lucy will somehow leave him by dying. We know that Future Lucy’s death was very emotional for Natsu, and time and time again after the 1 year time skip Natsu is shown to be very protective of Lucy, claiming that “Even if all is left is her head…Lucy will still be Lucy” (477) and protecting her by putting his body first. Even when it comes time for him to face Zeref and Natsu’s first defeat, he thanks Lucy, thinks of her, knowing she is helping him.Why is this important to note? Because in reference to the panel above, whatever Natsu wanted to do/say trumps beating Zeref, and with Lucy gone/dead than he could never accomplish that. Not only is she the closest person to him, and vise versa, but with her dying he is left with unfinished business IE what he wanted to say to her. Hence him going overboard. Just thought this was worthy to note!
Back to the point lol…
This panel in particular shows how teasing Happy is towards Natsu. The second panel he seems to tease Lucy in a way, which makes me believe that whatever Natsu was about to say, whether it be a confession or whatnot, it involves Lucy. Otherwise, I don’t believe Happy would have responded to Lucy with that expression. The bottom panels also show Happy and his teasing, him holding back a laugh with a blush on his cheeks. He’s obviously teasing Natsu about something, something that he knows will embarrass Natsu. He tends to make that expression when it is in regards to Natsu and Lucy and their somewhat unclear relationship:
One can argue that it can be for fanservice, and yes it very well can be, but I don’t see it that way. What Natsu wanted to say involves Lucy in some form so hopefully he comes back so we can find out what ;A;
I believe that Anna and Acnologia coming back (since the last panel there seemed to be this rip in the sky so bitches are coming back) will probably bring a way to save natsu in some form? I don’t believe he is gone for good, but I do believe a sacrifice will be needed in order to bring him back. However, much like these chapters are going, it could also be a troll, and he vanishes somewhere to makes amends with Zeref maybe before coming back to the guild since Zeref and Mavis both defeated the curse? maybe since they defeated it w love they can have like a wish granted, much like Zeref wished he made up with Natsu lol if this is the case I’ll be shook.
“Oh hey Peter, glad I caught you!” You smiled as you grabbed said brunette’s arm, he was obviously in a rush to leave the school grounds. He turned around and smiled that warm grin you loved, making you drop his arm and a blush to rise to your cheeks. It had been at least a year since you have had realised you had a crush on your childhood best friend and downstairs neighbor Peter Parker. Although from the way he acted, you assumed he had a crush on someone else (Probably Liz Allen, you had spent countless hours listening to him ramble on about her). Although up until this point you had tried to stop the onslaught of teenage hormones, in a sudden change of your own heart you decided to at least try and get him in a date like situation with you.
“Oh hey (Y/N), sorry I was going to walk back to building with you but something came up. Make it quick alright,” He tried to continue smiling but you saw the anxious look on his face, how could you miss it. Fearing the worst, like he had a date, you fought off the butterflies in your stomach as you tried to form a coherent sentence.
“Oh yeah sorry to keep you waiting, I was wondering if you wanted to come over to my apartment on Friday night. My parents don’t mind and I was gonna order some pizza,” You trailed off, watching as a smile engulfed his face. A feeling of hope bubbled in you, maybe he didn’t have a date, maybe you did have a chance!
“Sounds great, maybe we could invite Ned over. He told me the other day he hasn’t seen any of the Lord of the Rings movies yet, so maybe we can marathon those,” He beamed with his usual optimism, making your own smile drop. You got the signal that he obviously wasn’t interested in you and quickly returned a fake smile to your face.
“Great Idea, I’ll text him tonight and ask. C’mon let’s go, I have a lot of homework to do,” You hurried Peter, walking onto the street surrounding the school. Peter watched after you carefully before cautiously following. He had no idea why you were upset but he definitely wasn’t happy about it.
Peter had quickly suited up once he had gotten into his room and told Aunt May he was slogged with homework. That would hopefully keep her distracted for long enough. His phone had alerted him to a bank robbery in the area, and he was quick to swing into action. Still his interaction with you today was on his mind. His (H/C) haired best friend that was with him through thick and thin. You had never directly asked him more than 2 hours prior to a casual movie and pizza night, so maybe something was special about this Friday night. He was jumping from building to building when it finally hit him.
“OH GOD SHE WAS ASKING ME ON A DATE!” He yelled into the air. A couple of members of the public looked at the masked hero, he sure seemed underqualified for the job of saving the city now.
While they are usually kind-hearted and well-intended, they're often not warm and fuzzy. This is because they often try to love people before they learn to like them. They are the biggest nerds out of all the ESxx types, often gravitating towards Enlightenment Era ideals. They also make great pranksters, because they are clever and love to get reactions from people.
They're a lot more laid back than most profiles will have you believe (because ALL SJs MUST HAVE THEIR NOSES TO THE GRINDSTONE 24/7 pssh yeah right). Yes, they take what they do very seriously, but they need an awful lot of downtime because they are highly sensitive to sensory and social input. They may have a tendency to give up on things they should persist on, and persist in things they should give up. They are more open-minded than they seem - while they are extremely cautious with strangers, they are usually willing to learn to understand others as they get to know them, regardless of their differences. They are also the most fantasy-prone of any Sensing type, with a love for lore and literary analysis - it is a way for them to keep in touch with traditions.
Most of them aren't actually self-righteous. If they are, it's only toward their family members - this is mostly out of insecurity rather than a firm belief that they have made all the right choices. When faced with someone close to them making different choices than they did, they worry that perhaps they themselves should have taken a different route in life. Out of the SJ types, they are probably the worst at teamwork.
Sillier, softer, and stranger than any profile would dare to mention, and often more so than they themselves are aware of. They become so firmly set in their habits that they often fail to realize how idiosyncratic some of them are. They are quite vulnerable and can become depressed and anxious when they are faced with a difficult decision, more so than other types. This is because of their strong sense of accountability. They can also have a knack for puns and poignant descriptions, though most would never peg this type as "poetic."
The main reason they appear "non-committal" is because they are often, in actuality, extremely committed to someone or something that prevents them from pursuing new possibilities far enough or for long enough to gain anything from them. Imagine a fish that struggles to swim off in a variety of directions only to be reeled back in again and again, not even realizing that it's attached to a hook. They are probably the least self-aware of all iNtuitive types. Contrary to popular belief, they are not reckless. They may participate in reckless activities, but they are extremely cautious while doing so.
They care a great deal about what other people think of them and theirs - the "socially awkward" stereotype comes from over-thinking the situation, rather than under-thinking it. They are not wishy-washy, they are just extremely skilled at picking their battles. They can argue a lot for its own sake, but it wears them out more than they let on. Out of all the NTs, they are probably the best team players. They may pretend not to care about gossip or "sap", but they often secretly find these things irresistible.
They are usually not Machiavellian. Their strong sense of individualism often extends to others (which makes them respectful of others' uniqueness), and they use their brave and outspoken nature to amplify others' voices who may be going unheard. They are often the "bully's bully" - if they see someone picking on someone who's in no place to fight back, you can bet they will not hesitate to put that person in their place. They may seem tireless and unsinkable, but when they fail to meet their own standards, they often need to temporarily withdraw from their endeavor in order to regroup.
They value free will fiercely, but they aren't stubborn. If they learn the value of something they previously resisted, they can do a complete 180. Because of their tendency to analyze things for extended periods of time, this is something that can happen quite often. They are more aesthetically oriented than other Thinking types, and they are often quite whimsical (though they may not always express it). While they can appear cold, they can usually be quickly defrosted by a cause or by something they relate to. They tend to be quite compassionate towards people and things that are misunderstood, urging others to look beyond their biases and at the facts and circumstances. While they are very independent in their thoughts, they usually don't mind (and can sometimes prefer) to assist and be assisted, due to their keen sense of where they and others fall short.
They tend to suffer from a poorer self-image than most ExxJs. While their perpetual concern for others may look like the picture of responsibility, it can also be a means for them to avoid dealing with their own problems. This hyper-altruistic tendency coupled with a weaker Sensing function can lead to an ENFJ's life falling into severe disarray, and because of their Fe image-focus, they tend to be very good at hiding it. They are quite prone to vices - contrary to the Goody Two Shoes picture painted of them by most MBTI profiles.
While their NF righteousness usually compels them to be open and honest, they can be surprisingly artful and manipulative due to their knack for knowing what people want (and don't want) to hear. They are masters at keeping their friends close and their enemies closer. While many INFJs are spiritual people, their aptitude for coming to conclusions with little to no evidence does not come from any sort of mystical source, but rather their constant unconscious analysis of small details that most others don't notice at all and which they themselves have difficulty pinning down specifically. They are the most cerebral of all the Feeling types.
They may be extraverts, but they are often not outgoing because their Fi compels them not to over-extend themselves emotionally. Their extraversion manifests more in exploration of various interests and gathering information from outside the self, interpreting it in terms of the connections between different pieces of information. While they almost always have unconventional senses of humor, they are not necessarily "goofballs" - they take their moral causes, values, and social relationships very seriously and one can readily observe this intensity any time these topics are brought to the ENFP's attention.
Often regarded as frivolous daydreamers, they can be shockingly practical, readily seeing the value of using time and resources wisely. They often have no time for things they see as irrelevant to their causes, projects, or values. In a society where ExxJ behavior is seen as the norm, this might look like someone acting "too cool for school". In reality, the INFP is as busy as they are. The only difference is that the source of motivation is intrinsic, and the projects are usually personal. They are also not as pleasant as most sites paint them as. Many INFPs are harshly judgmental towards people and things they see as transgressing against their values. Though they may not always speak up about it, they will frequently shun those who don't meet their standards without a second thought or a closer examination.
Contrary to popular belief, they do value book-smarts and often enjoy conversing with Rational types. They may not grasp the concepts as easily (nor apply them as responsibly), but they find philosophical topics stimulating - another piece of equipment on life's big playground. While they are naturally persuasive people, they are often disinterested in the corporate and political spheres where they could potentially thrive - ladder-climbing within organizations doesn't appeal to them (in fact, many ESTPs cringe at the very idea). Because of this, they often do not pursue these career tracks despite their high level of potential for success in them.
They are usually much more caring than most profiles give them credit for. They have a deeply fraternal nature about them and they often use their trouble-shooting skills and practicality to give advice and assistance to their friends. While typically independent and solitary in the pursuit of their hobbies, they are usually not aloof in social situations and they have a knack for observational humor.
Out of all the Feeling types, ESFPs often have the most difficulty dealing with emotions, whether their own or those of others. They are not good at giving advice or confronting their own emotional issues - this is because of their tendency to minimize problems. Their Feeling side manifests more in their genuineness. You typically won't find them deliberately playing games with others' feelings or pretending to be someone they're not in order to be liked - their natural confidence is usually enough for them to win friends and influence people.
They're not snobs or hipsters. Well, not necessarily. They know what they like, full stop. Whether their tastes are considered refined or eclectic by the rest of the world varies from ISFP to ISFP. They're not that shy - many an ISFP is possessed of an SP-typical brazen sense of humor and they love to talk at length about their interests. They are also not as prone to spring at new opportunities or experiences as other SP types - "I don't know, it doesn't sound like something I'd like" is a phrase commonly uttered by ISFPs.
A/N: I don’t know what the hell I did, I hope you like it, fluffy fluff
You flattened your dress with your hands and were looking at yourself in the mirror. The dress hugged your body in the right places but something felt off. You let your hands trail down your body and tilted your head. Something was off.
“Darling, can you help me put this on. This bloody thing keeps getting tangled and I’m gonna loose my sh-…Shit!”, he interrupted himself as soon as you turned around to face him.
“You look absolutely stunning.”, he said and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You walked over to him with a small smile on your lips and took his bow tie.
“You don’t look too shit yourself, Mr.”, you joked and he rolled his eyes while you tied his bow tie around his neck.
“Done!”, you said triumphantly and looked up into his eyes. He took your face inbetween his hands and was about to kiss you when you stopped him.
“Uh…mind the makeup?”, you said apologetically and shrugged. He groaned and stumped his foot like a grumpy child before he leaned in and gave you a butterfly kiss on your forhead.
“That’ll have to be enough. For now.”, he said and you turned around with an anxious smile on your face to look into the mirror again. And your smile turned into a frown.
Seeing him, like the god he was, ready for the redcarpet, born for the redcarpet, you felt tiny and insecure. He layed his hands on your hips and placed his chin on your shoulder.
“I-…”, he started with a grin but you interrupted him.
“I can’t do this!”, you blurted out and let out a huff getting out of his grip. You crossed your arms infront of your chest and couldn’t look into his eyes.
“What do you mean? Hey- hey. Look at me.”, he said and lifted your chin with his hand.
“I’m can’t be…this.”, I said and pointed at him and he furrowed his eyebrows.
“I don’t belong in your world. I belong behind my books with my sweatpants and old t-shirt on.”, I explained further and huffed again, now more desperate. You really felt uncomfortable.
“You…Alright. Now. This is not my world. It’s ours. I’m just lucky enough to be the one sharing with you. You belong by my side. Both in your sweatpants and this dress. Because you are the one who makes them look beautiful to me.”
“Okay now your getting cheesy.”, you said and rolled your eyes but couldn’t surpress a tiny smile.
“There she is.”, he said and pulled you against his body.
“Also I need you.”, he added with a small voice and a shy smile. Now you realized that he himself wasn’t that confident either. His hands seemed to tremble a little and he looked down shaking his head.
“You’d think I should be getting used to all that attention and shouting and people. The people. But I’m not.”, he said and it was your time to take his face into your hands and give him a quick kiss onto his lips.
“The makeup!”, he shrieked and made you laugh.
“You wipe your mouth and I’ll refresh my lipstick. And were set to go.”, you answered and let him go.
“Oh boy.”, you sighed stepping into your apartment and kick off your heels immediatly.
“You might as well organize a funeral and bury me.”, you added and hobbled into the living room because your feet were killing.
“You’re being dramatic.”, he laughed after you threw yourself onto the couch. He pulled off his bow tie and you couldn’t help yourself and bit your lip.
“Shit.”, you said under your breath and looked away from him. The carpet was more intresting suddenly.
“You don’t look too shit yourself.”, he imitated you and you stuck out your tongue at him.
You pulled yourself up and turned your back to him, pulling your hair over your shoulder to expose your back.
“Could you zip that open please?”, you asked him because you couldn’t wait to get into comfy clothes.
“Sure.”, he said and with his next move you were free. You let the dress slip down your body and raised your hands into the air triumphantly. You stood there in your underwear which was non of your problems right now.
“Yes!”, you sighed and rolled your neck to loosen it a bit. Suddenly you felt two arms wrap around your lower half and a warm chest pressed against your back.
“You should put something on. We’re both too tired to go further.”, he hummed into your ear and sent shivers down your spine. You put your hands above his and closed your eyes. Your hips started moving against his and he let a lustfull groan escape his throat, which made you smile.
“Yeah too tired.”, you teased him with a grin on your face.
“You’re a jerk.”, he sighed and you turned around to face him.
“Well, I learned from the pro, didn’t I?”, you said and placed a butterflykiss on top of his nose. “Since we don’t have to mind the makeup anymore…”, he said and kissed your lips. It started as a harmless kiss but got more passionate along the way. You had to pull away eventually to take a breath and when you did you burst out laughing.
“We gotta write an email to Maybelline that their Lipstick isn’t kiss-proof.”, you laughed and pointed at his lips where your lipstick was smeared all over.
“Red suits you.”, you teased him and smirked.
“I know. So does blue.”, he said with a cocky grin and you playfully hit his shoulder.
“Come on Spider-ling. Let’s see what else suits you.” You took his hand and walked over to your bedroom, closing the door behind you two.
You woke up in the moring, tangled in the sheets which were telling the tales of last night. You smiled to yourself remembering your activities and closed your eyes again. Until you recognized that you were alone in bed.
You got up to look around the house but he was nowhere to be found. Walking by the front door you found a sticky note.
“Manager called. Had to rush out.
You took the sticky note and went to the kitchen to make yourself a nice breakfast. After being full you sat down ok the couch and took your laptop on your lap to research the last nights events. The ones before you came home obviously. You scrolled through some headlines.
“Tom Holland and his new girlfriend!”
“Tom Hollands accesoire: His Girlfriend!”
Nice. Now I’m a purse.
“Spidermans girlfriend is a snack!”
“Tom and Y/N are rocking the redcarpet!”
Wow, that’s a confident boost. You clicked one of them and went straight down to the comment section even though Tom warned you not to that, ever.
It’s strange how something said by a complete stranger can impact your mood. You were left totaly confused and insecure. After reading thousands of comments and tweets you shut your laptop. There were both positive and negative opinions about you. Even though you did absolutley nothing. You just walked with Tom, which was one of the reasons why some people hated you, and only answered questions in his interviewes if asked directly to you.
Some people said that was snob-ish from you. But you only did that because you didn’t want to seem eager to be in the spotlight. Which you definetly weren’t. Others were talking about your dress. Mainly nice things which made you a little happy. There were fans who thought that you two seemed happy together and truly in love. Which was the truth but you know. The internet.
You were still deep in your thoughts when Tom came back late in the afternoon. You heared keys being tossed into the bowl at the front door and looked up.
“Hey!”, he yelled from the hall and you greeted him back.
“What’s ma beauty doin’?”, he asked with an accent you couldn’t quiet put your finger on while coming into the living room.
“Don’t do that.”, you said shaking your head.
“Do what?”, he laughed and let himself fall next to you.
“Better than me? Shut up.”, he imitated the rapper Stormzy and you rolled your eyes.
“So how’d you feel last night?”, he asked you more serious now and put his arm around you.
“You mean when you did the thing with your hands between my…”, you started teasing him put he interrupted you.
“Oh c'mon. You know what I mean.” He blushed and you chuckled at his reaktion.
“I don’t know Tom. I mean it was nice and all and I really enjoyed being by your side but…I think you should go with someone else next time. Zendaya for example. She is a great friend and she is already famous. She knows how to handle all the…opinions.”, you blurted out and he raised his brows.
“Y/N Y/L/N! Did you read comments or magazines or some stupid stuff?”, he scolded you and you shrugged.
“It’s fine. Really. I’m fine. But I rather not be in the spotlight a second time.”, you added and shrugged again.
“Actually I had a meeting with my manager this morning exactly about this. Not only this. But it was a part of it. The people absolutly LOVED you. To the point where the most articles that came out today were mostly about you and not me.”, he said with a big smile trying to make you feel good but it kind of backfierd.
“What are they saying? The articles.”
“That’s not my point! But if you really wanna know they are all over you. Bits they could find about your childhood, mom, dad, siblings, school and all that stuff. But mainly your projects, what you stand for. And they love it. They say you bring the best out of me.Which is the only time I am mentioned actually.”, he chuckles and shakes his head.
“We’ll see, I guess. Next time.”, you said still insecure about everything.
“Uh…actually…next time is kinda…tomorrow?”, he stutterd while his voice got more silent with every word.
“What?”, you said and widened your eyes.
“You know, normally, a girlfriend means bad press and it’s not really favorable for the promotion of the movie. Has something to do with the teenage girls who tend to get jelous or something. But you kinda went around that? They love you, kinda like they love Zendaya. Like rolemodel or something. My manager went on and on I couldn’t listen to all of it BUT all of that means that I would really be happy if you could join me every now and then.”, he said and looked hopefully into your eyes.
“I’m not! Really.”
“That’s insane!”, you sighed but he shook his head.
“No, it’s perfect! You can work from everywhere thanks to your projects so that isn’t a problem. You’ll be by my side on the carpet and the events and you could work in the trailer while my interviews. It’s perfect. No longer being apart from each other for months.”, he said now excitedly and your heart shrunk.
“Babe I don’t know if…I want that.”, you said carefully and the excitement in his eyes went away. His shoulders deflated and his eyes widened.
“Oh.”, he just said and you took his hands into yours immediatly.
“I just don’t belong in that world Tom. I’ll always support you at anything you do and I’ll always be your number one fan and I’ll ALWAYS love you…but I can’t handle the spotlight and its aftermath.”, you explained and it broke your heart to see him disappointed. He couldn’t even look into your eyes.
He pulled his hands away and your whole body stiffened.
“Tom…”, you sighed but he didn’t seem to recognize that. He turned away from you and leaned his elbows onto his thighs.
“You know they are going to have an opinion about you no matter how far away you stay.”, he said and you nodded.
“I know. But that’s different.” As you said that he shook his head.
“It’s not. What happens when those get to you too? Are you going to leave me then? To escape those? I wouldn’t judge you, you know.”, he said and looked up. His eyes looked sad and concerned which made you sigh.
“Oh Tom no! How can you think that? I’m not with you or without you based on the outside world.”, you said and took his hands in mine again.
“But that’s what you said. Just a minute ago.”
Because nothing you said seemed to go through to him you swung your leg over his lap, so your legs were on either side of his thighs. You took his face into your hands and forced him to look into your eyes.
“You listen to me. You don’t get to overthink this. I do. I’m the woman here.”, you teased him and he rolled his eyes.
“I know how to handle the pressure from the outside. I just need time to adjust. I can’t go out there full time. Let’s take babysteps. I’ll come with you to events but you’ll have to do your promo on your own. For now. Let me get used to it, let the people get used to me without rubbing it into their faces. How does that sound?”, you suggested with a supporting smile and he finally gave in.
“Good, I guess. I just don’t want them putting wrong ideas in your head which’ll harm our relationship.”
You shook your head and gave him a quick kiss. He put his hands on your hips and smiled up to you.
“You wanna go out?”, he asked suddenly and you raised a brow.
“Sure. Where?”, you asked and he shrugged.
And that’s what your relationship consisted of. It was a rollercoster with moodswings, arguments, laughs and adventures. The important thing was that you both were able to sort things out.
Of course the amazing sex helped too. But that was another topic.
Summary: You and Tom Holland are neighbors in the same apartment complex. You have a crush on him, he has a girlfriend. What could go wrong? You could think of five separate incidents.
Word count: 7,132
No 1: the coffee maker
incident (which was all harrison’s fault)
The moment your knuckles leave the door it’s already
swinging back, revealing a face flushed with relief. Tom Holland’s eyes flutter
closed, leaning his head against the door frame and looking up at you through
his lashes with a smile plastered on his face.
“Oh thank god you actually came. You’re good at fixing
things, right?” he asked, ushering you into his apartment before hearing your
answer. You’re a little reluctant to enter, thinking that you’ll somehow track
mud across his pristine white carpet, or smudge a stain on his suede chairs
that weren’t in there the last time you’d been over.
“I’m good at putting Ikea furniture together, if that’s what
you mean,” you call after him as you hop around on one foot, attempting to
slide your boots off without appearing like a fool. You look around once more,
taking in the features of Tom’s place.
You can’t say you like what he’s done. There are too many
colors; blues and yellows that are too bold, an abundance of throw pillows
against a couch that you swear your parents had gushed over in a Rooms-To-Go
catalog. None of it looks like him,
and you have an inkling as to why, but you keep your mouth shut as you follow
the sound of two voices into his kitchen.
“You help me with my T.V all the time. Are you good with
stuff like this?” Tom inquires, looking at you over his shoulder. He’s standing
in front of something, hunched over the island in the center of the room. On
his left, staring at you over his mug, Harrison is sipping away on something.
There’s a smug look in his blue eyes that makes you want to
tip his drink onto his shirt, but instead you ignore him, standing on Tom’s
right. In front of you is a simple small coffee maker; not a Keurig, but
something akin, you could imagine.
“What’s wrong with it?” you question, looking around the top
and sides for damage. Tom has his knuckle in his mouth, looking worriedly at
the device in front of him. You’ve never seen such an anxious look on his face
and it makes your brows crease. “Tom?”
“Hm?” he says, snapping his eyes back to you. The normally
sparkling brown hues are muddy, clouded with something you can’t identify.
“It’s just… I don’t know what’s wrong with it. I noticed it was out of water
and I went to refill it, but when I pressed the button, it wouldn’t make
Perplexed, you flipped open the lid, seeing nothing wrong.
You checked the coffee ground compartment, seeing a pierced, but otherwise
unused k-cup sitting in there. With crossed arms, you pressed the power button
again, just to be certain.
The three of you watched as the machine’s light started to
blink. You cut your eyes over to Tom, wondering what kind of stunt he was
pulling. Opening your mouth to speak, you were cut off by the red light
blinking out, only for nothing else to happen.
“See!” Tom cried out, fisting his hands in his hair. It
curled out of his fist, making two small pony tails at the top of his head.
Your eyes narrowed, realizing just how much his hair had grown in the past few
months. You hadn’t seen too much of him to have a decent comparison, but you
remembered it being much shorter.
“—just wait till she comes home and sees this broken! She’s
going to kill me!” Your heart drops into your stomach, limbs suddenly feeling
heavy. The coffee maker belonged to his girlfriend. You nodded, now
understanding why he had sounded so urgent when he’d called you.
“You’re fucking Spider-Man, ya? Just go out and buy a new
one with all that Marvel money,” Harrison pointed out, rolling his eyes as he
took another sip of his drink. “She won’t even know the difference.”
“They don’t even make this stupid model anymore, she’s going
to know it’s broken. And I didn’t even break it!” he exclaimed, his voice
shaking with worry. “What am I going to do?”
“You’re going to calm the hell down, that’s what,” you
chided, resting your hands on Tom’s shoulders. He relaxed under your touch,
walking backwards as you steered him onto a bar stool. “It’s not the end of the
world, dude, just breathe,” you reminded him, watching as his chest heaved
heavily. Your hands felt warm as they slid down his arms, coming to rest on the
island as you examined the coffee maker.
You drained it of its water, checking the main compartment
for any irregularities. Immediately you noted a white film around the sides,
and you paused, looking from the sink, to the device, and finally at Harrison.
“Harrison? What are you drinking?” you asked, pulling your
phone from your back pocket and shining the flashlight down to the bottom.
“Hot chocolate,” he replied carefully, eyes darting between
you and Tom. Peering down, you carefully wiped your finger against the bottom
of the compartment, your nails scratching against a hard surface, coated with
“Haz, there’s no pot in the sink, or in the dishwasher.
What—HAZ!” Tom growled, having put the pieces together. “Did you put milk in the coffee maker?”
“I mean, yeah,” he admitted a not-so-guilty look across his
face. “It was sitting right there, and it was faster than heating up a pot.”
“Ah-ha,” you chuckled, closing one eye to look down into the
coffee maker. “That would explain this weird shit covering the bottom of this
thing.” You gave a pointed look at Harrison, who hadn’t even tried to look
remorseful. “You do realize that when you don’t clean up heated milk, it leaves
a hard coating on metal. This coffee maker basically has a hot plate that boils
the water and then sucks in into a tube. My best guess it that the milk
hardened, and the water can’t get through,” you assessed.
“Well how do we fix it?” Tom asked, crossing his arms and
looking at you. He seemed to believe you had all the answers, and you bit your
lip to hold back you stutters. You didn’t want to disappoint him, to make him
think you weren’t the person for the job.
Cutting your eyes over at Harrison, you gave him a pointed
look; you made it look reprimanding, but it was really to wipe the smirk off
his face. He’d had a smug look since the moment you walked in and it bothered
you, making the tips of your ears feel hot.
“Well for starters, don’t do it again,” you bit out, glaring
daggers at Harrison. He didn’t reply, but he did walk out of the room,
shrugging his shoulders as he walked behind you.
Tom noted the fixed stares you gave him, but said nothing of
it. You pursed your lips before looking at the brunette, holding out your hand
and asking for a knife.
He blinked, warily pulling out a butter knife and placing it
into your palm. You frowned at it, turning it over in your hands. “I need a
Tom raised a brow, hazel eyes glimmering with suspicion. You
snorted, wondering if he was actually
afraid of you with a knife.
“What, you think I’m going to kill you or something?” You
joked. You wondered for a moment if your joke was too dark for a guy who was
just your neighbor, but he eventually chuckled, handing you a knife with a
sharp, long blade. You gave him your phone, and asked him to shine it down into
the machine. Silently, with the two of your heads close together, you both
bowed your heads with work to do.
This was an awkward fifteen minutes. Every now and then Tom
would pick his eyes up and watch as your face scrunched in concentration. Your
lips would part as an almost inaudible curse passed through, making him laugh a
bit. Every time you felt him move you would try not to catch his gaze,
attempting to discreetly look at him. You could feel how close he was and it
felt wrong that your heart was beating so fast, or that you couldn’t breathe.
After what felt like hours, you retracted, taking the
machine to the sink to wash it out. You filled it and plugged it back in,
waiting patiently with a mug as you started it.
Tom looked as though he was holding a breath, and sure
enough, when the coffee streams out he sighed, leaning against the counter with
his entire weight, looking as though he’s been saved from the fires of hell.
He turns, eyes shining in praise as he gushed a bunch of
rushed thank you’s, his accent slurring everything together. You’re really just
nodding and smiling, telling him that it’s fine and no big deal. You’ll tell
yourself anything to get rid of the hammering in your chest, louder than
construction work as you feel blood rush to your face.
“I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you.” He sounds
like he’s speaking about your presence in general, but that can’t be true. All
you’ve ever done for him was put together furniture and now fix his coffee
maker, but he seems to like you, as a friend and neighbor. Which you’ll take.
“It’s no problem at all Tom. And it’ll be less of a problem
if I can have this,” you pull the mug away, bringing the rich black coffee to
“Yeah, yeah, of course. Do you want to stay for a bit? I
feel like you’re always in and out, and-“ his words die as his cell phone
rings, the ringtone that default sound that makes you jump. He takes it,
holding his hand up apologetically, but you shake your head. You weren’t going
to stay anyways.
Grabbing your things, you pass Harrison, who looks pretty
comfortable on a couch that isn’t his, sipping on the last of his hot
chocolate. He smiles when you walk by, but it’s a knowing one, as though he can
read your thoughts. You scoff, but before you can get your shoes back on,
Harrison says, “You should be thanking me.”
That really riles you up, and you laugh, a forced, sarcastic
thing. “For what?”
“If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t be making any moves.”
There’s a wink, but you don’t really care to return his comment. You strain out
a “Bye, Harrison,” before closing the door and leaning your back against it.
The cup in your hand is scorching your palm, but you smile
regardless. Another reason to knock on Tom’s door.
No. 2: The incident
where you meet his girlfriend and things go wrong
You had this sick feeling in your gut that toady wasn’t the
best day to bring back the mug you borrowed from Tom. It was simply the day
after, the most reasonable time to drop by and say, “hey, I forgot I tookthis”
without seeming like you harbored it, or cast a spell on it. The little thing
sat neatly in your hands, cradled gently as though it was made of crystal.
Your knock was verging on two minutes ago, so you decided to
go again, wondering briefly if you should say his name. Calling him may have
been a bad idea, but before you could form his name, the door swung back,
revealing a brunette that was not
His girlfriend’s caramel colored hair was a cascade of
freshly made curls, evident from the fact that her makeup and outfit were
already complete. She lacked shoes, and a sense of hospitality, sizing you up
like bully on a playground. When she reached your eyes, you balked, deciding
whether it was better to state your purpose, or just drop the item near her
feet and scram.
It would have been much easier for her as well, until Tom
caught your eyes from farther behind her. “Y/N?” he questioned, but excitedly,
as though he was happy to see you. That made his girlfriend’s lip curl into a
sneer, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by you.
“Oh, uh,” you started, wanting so bad to bolt, but
transfixed by Tom’s smile and gentle demeanor. He was dressed, indicating that
he was probably going out. And from the progress they both had on their
outfits, you could guess it was possible they were going on a lunch date.
You felt foolish, your heart drooping in your chest as you
resigned yourself to stick with the plan. What did you expect, that his
girlfriend would just magically be missing every time you came into his
apartment? A dumb idea, one fueled by your fluttering heart, but also by your
“I accidentally took this last time I was here. Sorry,” you
said, holding the cup out to the girl. She dropped her eyes to the cup, but
made no moves to take it from you. Her hands stayed rooted on the door, and you
felt like you could melt under her scrutinizing gaze.
Tom saved you, however, taking the cup from your hands with
care, wrapping his hand around it. Your hands brushed each other’s, and your
fingertips felt so warm and fiery, igniting your nerves in flames. You looked
up to send him a smile, but you caught the look his girlfriend gave you.
Her blue eyes startled you, being so wide and so angry at
the same time. Her perfect nails seemed to dent into the metal door as she
gripped it with all her might. Her posture was rigid, feet set apart in a
fighting stance. You thought her unoccupied hand was going to reach out and
punch your teeth out.
The silent threat made you jump, the ware slipping from your
fingers and smashing to the floor before you had time to react. You could only pull
your feet away and watch in horror as it fell on its handle, small shards of
grey porcelain scattering across the floor.
You want to cry, curl up beside the shards and be swept away
into a dust bin, you’re so mortified. To your right, she’s smiling a little,
resting her hand on Tom’s shoulder as she proceeds to ask if he’s okay. She
tiptoes to look over his shoulder, as though she wasn’t standing feet away when
it happened. Milking the moment, you catch the glint in her eyes when she rubs
his back, saying that she’ll get a broom.
Tom nods, saying a faint, “okay babe,” before he’s taken
aback by the kiss she plants on his cheek. You note the pink mark it’s left, a
small, but powerful reminder that he’s taken, and that no matter how shy and
polite and cute and neighborly you are, there’s nothing you can do about it.
She casts a look that is part sinister and part mocking over
her shoulder, but it turns into surprise as the door closes, Tom stepping out
into the hall. He’s got his hands behind his back as the door clicks shut,
leaving the two of you in the hall.
“Sorry about that, I don’t know how that happened.” He rubs
the back of his neck now, as if he’s really considering the idea that he might
have done this.
“No, you have nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one who
broke it, I should be cleaning it up, I,” your head is fixed towards the
ground, unable to meet his gaze. You really just want to walk away, but it was hard,
with him so close to you, his height and yours almost the same. There’s no need
for tilted heads when every time you look up, it’s just his eyes on yours, and
it makes you so frustrated.
“I’m really sorry about this, I promise I’ll get you another
one.” In some really nice universe, this is the part where Tom chuckles and
says “You don’t have to do that. Just go
on a date with me and we’re even.”
But this is not a nice universe. It’s not even close. This
universe is horrible and cruel, laughing at your pitiful crush on a taken
British boy and your shitty attempts at being his friend.
This universe sucks, so you leave him with that half assed
promise and run down the stairs, not looking back as he calls your name.
No. 3: the incident
where you hear something you shouldn’t have (but always wanted to know)
It’s late, and probably your own fault that you’re miserable
and at home and have to watch a fucking slideshow about Roswell, New Mexico. The
lights are mostly off in your apartment, save for three little hanging lights
above your kitchen counter. One sole bottle of Heineken is untouched, probably
warm since your friend left over two hours ago for her date.
And now, with a pounding headache and an impossibly bad
mood, you felt your limit snap as loud shouts and a bumping bass sounded from
Tom’s apartment. He wasn’t a rowdy guy, and his girlfriend didn’t seem like the
type to annoy the neighbors at ten pm, but you could think of a certain blonde
It had been weeks after ‘the breaking of the mug’, weeks of
building back the confidence to look Tom in the eyes, and weeks of him being
crazy nice to you. He was always asking you to come over, wanting to make up
for how bad your last encounter was. Eventually you both settled back into a
comfortable friendship, but that only persisted as long as his girlfriend
After another week of that arrangement, you felt guilty,
almost as though you were doing something forbidden. You remembered the shame
and palpable tension in the room that occurred every time she came home to find
the two (or three, there was no way she
could get rid of Harrison) inside. Almost any conversation would drop, and
you would leave, giving him a curt goodbye.
It was dumb, it was strenuous and it was so unnecessary. But
it felt exciting.
You swallowed that excitement down fast, knowing that there
was nothing between you two. You were neighbors, and finally friends; you
weren’t going to ruin it because of your unrequited crush on him.
The pounding in your head increased when you heard with
clarity and annoyance the repetitive yell of shots. The song seemed to shake
your entire apartment and you growled, stomping over and banging on Tom’s door
with your fist.
“Hey! It’s a fucking Thursday night!” you yelled, despite
your normal timid manner. You seriously just wanted to fall straight asleep and
head to work tomorrow and make a final decision on this location. You were
losing time and patience and the capacity to care when a face split into a wide
grin upon seeing you at the door.
“Hey hey, Y/N!” Harrison’s blue eyes were unfocused and
shiny, his smile too big for his face. He stumbled to grab your arm, his grip
much tighter as he used all his strength to pull you in.
“Guys, look who I found!” The word “guys” had you at unease,
but you surveyed the people around you carefully. You would know the Spider-Man
cast anywhere, and Tom’s apartment was definitely a place where you’d seen them
Tony and Jacob both had on tilted ball caps, and when Tony
ran to hug you it fell off. “Oh thank god
you’re hear Y/N!” he hiccuped, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Our man
Tom has something to tell you.”
The room dissolved into giggles. It sounded like a first
grade classroom, their laughter so innocent and playful. The only boy who
didn’t seem to be partaking in the fun was Tom, his lips set in a pout as he shoved
“Knock it off, boys,” he told them his voice sharp against
theirs. He didn’t appear to be as drunk as they were, but the goofy grin that
followed proved otherwise.
After another round
of laughter, you tried to shrug Tony away from you, but he was heavier without
full control over his body. You felt uncomfortable being around four drunk men,
who were all stronger than you. Despite knowing that they meant well, the
entire situation read badly.
“Tony, please get off me,” you mumbled, which seemed to earn
his attention. He stood up straight, raising his arm up mechanically. You took
a step back, holding your arms to make yourself small. “Guys, I get that you’re
having fun, but I have work to finish, so can you-“
“You’re a location scout, right?” Jacob asks in the moment
of lucidity. You nod, watching warily as Jacob stands, holding his hand out to
“Jacob Batalon, best actor in this room. If you’re ever in a
pinch for actors, you know where to find me.”
“Jacob,” you said slowly, your handshake becoming too long.
“We’ve met before.”
“Best actor in the room? Tom has a fucking BAFTA!” Harrison
argued over the music, but you both paid no mind to him.
“Uh, I think I’d know if I met anyone as pretty as you. At
least, I think you are. I can’t really see, but you’re Y/N, right?”
“Jacob,” you sighed, exasperated. Pinching the bridge of
your nose, you were halfway to launching into an explanation before he cut you
“Tom’s been going off about this Y/N girl. She lives across
the street or something. I’m like, Tom, dude, amigo. How do you know if she’s
pretty if she’s all the way over there?” He pointed out the window and you
frowned, wondering just what in the world he was on about.
“Jacob I know you! I live next door.” He snapped his fingers
loudly, looking back at Tony with wide eyes.
“Tony! It’s the girl, the one Tom mmhmm-“ Harrison covered Jacob’s
mouth with his hands, trying to sit him back down. You raised a brow, looking
between the four of them before sighing.
“Clearly I’m not getting anything through to you, so I’ll
just do it myself.” You huffed, turning to what you believed was the source of
the booming music. A stack of black rectangular sound systems sat on a shelf
below Tom’s T.V, each of them appearing to be on. In the background, yelling
had ensued, with Jacob’s mouth finally free of Harrison’s grip. You paid no
mind as you decided to simply turn the volume down. You twisted the dial a
little too far, making the music so quiet, that their shouts became clearer.
“Why the hell not! You’re not going to have any other
“Your girlfriend dumped you, now is the perfect time to tell
“And say what? ‘Hey Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since
the day we met’?”
It kept going, not even missing a beat as the four boys
started piling shout after shout on top of the others. You, however, had your
hands over your mouth, slowly rising to stand up. Your mind tried to process
the words in the order you heard them in, making sure it matched what you
thought. Your heart felt like it would leap from your chest, knees knocking as
you struggled to understand.
Tom liked you. He had since the day you met. And he didn’t
plan on telling you.
It was news to you that his girlfriend was no more, but even
bigger than that was the idea that
each of his friends already knew that he was in love with you. That sentiment
seemed like common knowledge, considering its blunt outburst hadn’t shocked
anyone to silence.
Suddenly Harrison’s cheeky winks and Tom’s bright smiles
seemed more than just coincidences. You wanted to run up to Tom and tell him
that you felt the same way, that he meant more to you than just a neighbor or a
friend. You felt your heart clench as you realized that those words were never
meant to be presented like this. You weren’t supposed to know.
In some nice universe Tom would tell you over another shared
mug of coffee, or an a first date somewhere sweet and thoughtful. In some nice
universe you could kiss him for saying that, and he’d kiss you back.
But this was not some nice universe, and this shit always
happened. You let yourself out, sliding back against the cold metal door and
letting out a sob that had been working its way through your chest.
Perhaps that nice universe would only ever be a daydream
No. 4: the incident
where the tables have turned
Not but two days after the drunken episode, you walked up
the stairs to find Tom, sitting outside his apartment like a lost puppy. He
bounced his phone on one knee, the other keeping his forehead up as he scrolled
through his phone. After a moment he locked it, turning his head to see you,
dazed and confused.
“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his loud voice reminding you of
Thursday night, and the deflated way he had yelled your name, saying that he
was in love with you. You were starting to believe it; you could see his eyes
light up whenever they found you, a small but genuine smile tilting his lips upward.
For someone who had just lost a significant other, Tom seemed pretty much in
Maybe because you were the one seeing him.
Nevertheless, you raised an eyebrow in silent question, to
which Tom sheepishly smiled. “I seem to have locked myself out of my own
apartment,” he told you, standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets. He
was well cleaned up, considering the last time you’d seen him he was smashed
Before you even had the thought of stopping, you blurted,
“Doesn’t your girlfriend have a key?”
It was like kicking a puppy; a small, adorable little puppy
that only wanted your attention for half a second. The mirth drained out of his
face and his eyes quickly dropped to the floor. His hands swung aimlessly by
his side. You wanted to take it back, say you were sorry or that you forgot,
but you weren’t even supposed to know in the first place.
“Alice and I broke up,” he sighed, and all you could think
was ‘So her name was Alice.’
You tried to morph your face into sympathy and surprise, but
you weren’t sure how well you pulled it off. “Oh, shit Tom, I’m sorry,” you
expressed, wanting to reach out and touch his shoulder, but withholding
yourself. Pretending you didn’t know about his feelings for you was so difficult, and you weren’t sure why. It
wasn’t like you to be flirty or drop hints, but for some reason that was all
you wanted to do: wrap your arms around him, tell him he’d be fine, and remind
him that you were next door if he needed you.
In some nice universe that would work, but this wasn’t time
“My spare key is with Harrison, surprise surprise,” Tom
joked, which you smiled at.
“You’re never going to see that key again,” you laughed,
bringing back a sliver of a smile to the man’s face. He looked better with it,
you thought, doing nothing for the butterflies in your stomach. Your laughter
calmed down enough for you to shrug. “You can come stay at my place until he
gets here, if you don’t have anything to do.”
His eyes widened, but he hid it by raising his left brow.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude or anything.”
“Considering it returning the favor. Besides, I’m always in
your apartment. We need a change of scenery.” You unlocked your door, coming
into your apartment with tense shoulders. Tom had never been in here before,
and there was a reason for that. His presence in your apartment would gradually
become less and less strange, making him just a part of your home than the
couch or the curtains. You didn’t want him to be so familiar that it seemed
like he belonged here, because he
didn’t. He belonged in his nice white apartment, far away from whatever you had
going on here.
There wasn’t much. You weren’t a minimalist, but you
preferred less pillows and decorations than actual furniture. The colors were
mostly neutral blues and greys, with red here or there. Along the walls were
huge posters of cities you’d visited for work. Ashville, Slab City, Roswell, and
other obscure towns were littered across your living room, and when you looked
back you noticed Tom was staring at all of them.
“You’ve been to all these places?” he inquired, awe lacing
his voice. You were shocked by his curiosity, considering he travelled all the
time for his job. His face was fixed on the posters, before catching the little
framed photos around the bookshelves. “Holy shit, is that you?”
He had the frame in his hand now, and judging from it, you
were sure he was indulging himself in staring at a truly mortifying high school
photo of yours. “Who are these people?” he pointed, and you grimaced.
“High school friends, if you couldn’t tell by our bad
fashion choices,” you groaned, coming up beside him and studying the picture.
You were in the middle, as you often were in group photos because everyone was
taller than you. It didn’t particularly matter in this instance; you were
squatting down, your hands clasped as if in prayer, staring down the camera
with a smirk. Above you, four of your friends had lifted up the shortest girl
in your group, perching her on their shoulders. It looked like a dysfunctional
“I don’t think I have a picture of me and my mates half as
cool as this,” Tom remarked, and you couldn’t help but laugh.
“You think that’s cool? I think we were more crazy than
cool,” you spoke wistfully, setting the picture back down. “I’m not even sure
why I keep that around. It doesn’t really fit in with this whole thing,” you
gestured wildly, pointing at the dozens of colorful photos. Tom’s eyes landed
wherever your finger pointed, until the rested back on you.
“Which one of these is your favorite?” he asked, turning in
a circle to view every landscape. You put a finger to your lips, eyeing each
one carefully, until you landed on one filled with green and purple.
“I took this in Glasgow, about four years ago,” you stated,
standing beside a quite large picture of a sprawling field of bluebells. “First
time scouting overseas, and a studio needed pictures of old woods to use as
concept art. I was with a senior photographer on this one, but he let me take
the shots they eventually used.” You glanced up at the photo in reverence,
before looking over to Tom.
His face expressed pure adoration, and you found that his
eyes rested more so on you than the photo. He seemed to be in a trance, only
snapped out of the daze a minute after you’d stopped talking. He tried to shake
the grin off, but it was too late. So he went with it, smiling even wider.
“Wow. I’ve been to Scotland before, and I knew it was beautiful.
But that?” he threw his hands down and you laughed at his gesture. “I’ve never
seen anything like that before.”
“You just have to know where to look. I know I never would
have found this place if David wasn’t so familiar with Glasgow,” you told him,
heading into the kitchen for drinks. “Next time, take someone who knows what to
“Maybe I should take you.” It was supposed to be mumbled
under his breath, just a wish he kept to himself, but he let his guard down.
You heard him, freezing as you stuck your head into the fridge, thanking the heavens
that you had a cover for your burning face. You wanted to turn around and tell
him yes; absolutely, positively,
one-hundred-percent were you on board with going anywhere with him. You wanted to joke that you’d pack your luggage
right then and there, that between two seasoned travelers like you, there was
sure to be a discount somewhere.
But all you could do was force down the thoughts, grabbing
two cokes from the fridge before pressing them to your face. You turned to Tom
and smiled, a restrained, glowing thing that startled him, for he hesitantly
stepped towards you.
“Maybe you should. Glasgow is one of my favorite places. I’d
be happy to show you around.” You hoped you didn’t come off as anything other
than friendly, but knowing the situation you were both in, there was no telling
Tom just blinked, his face like a deer in headlights.
Suddenly his face was tinted in pick and he smiled, looking down at his shoes
bashfully. “I don’t know when we’d ever do it,” he commented, rooting you two
back in the reality, the place where you both had jobs to do and obligations to
others. But it had been nice, dreaming of Scotland with Tom. Perhaps it would
There was a calm silence that settled in between the
conversation, which was ripped away when Tom’s cell rang. He picked it up with
reluctance, before making a face at the id. “Haz you better be downstairs or
else I’m hanging up.” There was a bit of yelling on the other side, Harrison’s
voice distorted by the traffic outside. Tom listened for a moment more before
nodded, cutting his eyes over to you.
“Yeah, you can just open yourself, you’re always there
anyways,” he quipped, ending the line before sighing. “Sorry, that was Haz, he’s
here with my key.” Every word he said sounded breathless, a string of words in
an almost incomprehensible British accent and an apology mixed in somewhere. You
smiled, before jumping up.
“Oh! Before I forget,” you babbled, reaching into a packed
kitchen cabinet for something. You stood on the tips of your toes, reaching for
a turned handle before it landed gracefully in your palm. You smiled, handing
it over to the dumbfounded man over the counter.
“What’s this?” he asked, turning over the red and blue
designed cup. “Is this for me?”
“Yeah! I told you I was going to get you a new mug, I didn’t
say what it would look like though.” You bit your lip, wondering if a
Spider-Man mug was really the way to go in this situation. In addition to
playing the wen head, you knew he had an affinity for the character as well,
hoping the combined coincidences would lead him to like it.
He pressed it into his palms, turning it over in the daintiest
of ways. He clutched it tight, as though he might break it from just breathing
on it. When he picked his head up, you noted the watery glimmer in his brown
eyes, which he tried his hardest to blink back. There were so many small things
about Tom that made your heart flutter, but you didn’t have time to study them
“Thank you,” his small voice took you from your thoughts. “That
was really sweet of you. You didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to,” you relied firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“And I couldn’t live with myself if I never replaced it. Seriously, take it,”
you told him, seeing as he was unwilling to leave with it. He stared at it a
little while longer before he jolted, a buzzing sounding from his back pocket.
“Harrison’s here, I should, uh,” He stammered out, slowly taking
some steps back. You nodded, giving him a slight wave and then headed back to
the kitchen. You didn’t look up until you heard the door open, and then click
shut, the air in your apartment much colder than it had been.
You stared around, wondering if you could find differences
in your home now that Tom had been inside it. Your old theory was clearly
correct, because your place had never felt so lonely and empty since you’d moved
in. With a frown, you stared at the picture of Glasgow, wondering if in some
other time and place, it was taken by you and Tom.
No.5: the incident where
everything becomes clear
You actually burst into his apartment, a loud banging noise
that sounds like it belongs in a movie. You’re too dramatic, and for reasons
only you can understand.
Two heads turn, almost in sync. Blue eyes stare your form up
and down, a quirk in his brows, while Tom just screams “Y/N!” It’s more of an
exclamation that a question, which prompts Harrison to ask the obvious.
“What are you doing?” It’s so posh coming from him, the
accent highlighting the annoyance in his voice. Or maybe it’s confusion,
because he seems baffled not only by your presence, but by your urgency.
Tom doesn’t seem to mind. He’s got wide, shining eyes, and a
posture that’s halfway out of the chair he was sitting in. He crosses the
length between you two in an instant, throwing you off for a second before you
regained proper footing.
“What’s wrong?” He questioned, staring you down with those
concerned brown hues of his. You wanted to take his face in your hands, and
reveal your purpose for being here in the first place.
You were out of breath, from both being so close to him, and
from running up three flights of stairs. After getting started on a scouting
job earlier this week, you requested half the day off to start finalizing your travel
plans. Within the next week you’d be flying into Tokyo and Hong Kong for a few
days with Shanghai as a backup plan in case you didn’t get the shots you
You had been so psyched to start packing and start sharing
about your trip, when you came across a moving truck in front of your complex.
And lo and behold, you caught the sight of Alice, her arms full of those yellow
throw pillows you had seen in his apartment all those weeks ago. Her blue eyes
scanned the street until they came to rest on you, shouldering a hand bag that
probably cost less than her foundation.
Her eyes turned to steel, lips curved in the most menacing
grimace you’d ever seen. Her eyes appeared watery as you came closer, the
grimace turning into a full-blown snarl the longer you stayed in her vicinity.
You practcally ran away, heart pounding out of fear. It wasn’t
that Alice was mean or nasty towards you; it was that you could understand why
she didn’t like you. You didn’t know the specifics of their breakup, but if you
could guess, you figured Tom’s affection towards you might have played a factor
The guilt burned your chest, but there was something else
there you didn’t understand, something that led you to Tom’s unlocked door. In
the awkward silence between you two, you wondered why it was unlocked, and why
he didn’t seem to question why you were here. The longer he stared at you, the
more your fingers itched, and the more you yearned to touch him.
So you pulled him out of the apartment, his feet tripping
over the threshold as the door closed behind him. You caught a glimpse of
Harrison’s face, blue eyes shining with mirth before he winked, clicking it
shut. Tom turned his head to look back, but you grabbed his cheeks, making him
He opened his mouth to ask something, but the question was
caught it his throat. Your lips were suddenly on his, and he shifted closer to
you, like it was an instinct. Like he got kissed by breathless girls outside
his apartment on a daily basis.
His arms wrapped around your waist, before coiling tightly, his
nails digging into your jacket. Your hands left his cheeks, instead falling to
the nape of his neck, where you brushed small curls of hair with your knuckles.
Everything about kissing Tom felt like fitting into a jigsaw puzzle; you knew exactly
where everything went. From your hands to your chest to your lips, every part
of you felt in place.
Tom eyes opened as he pulled back, gazing at you like he
would a star in the sky. “Why did you do that?” His nearly inaudible voice was
shaky, his hands running up and down your sides. He tried to still himself, but
you could feel the skittish energy he was trying hard to contain.
You wound your arms around his neck, pressing yourself
closer to him. “I don’t actually know,” you told him seriously, a smile in your
He tried to roll his eyes, but he too was smiling at you. “You
just did it, because? Just because you could?”
“Because I’ve wanted to for a long time. Because you
accidently said last Thursday that you were in love with me. And because I’m in
love with you too.”
Tom’s arms dropped and he balked, watching you with a gaping
mouth. “You heard that? You heard me say that?” he reiterated, looking you in
the eye. When you nodded he groaned, placing his head in his hands. He refused
to look at you when you coaxed him out of his shame.
“I can’t believe you knew that,” he muttered, his face
turning redder by the second. You tiptoed up and kissed the crown of his head,
causing him to peek at you through his fingers.
“I’m sorry you’re embarrassed, but if I didn’t know I’d
never have the guts to kiss you,” you compromised, pulling his hands away from
his face. “C’mon, this situation isn’t all bad.”
“It’s not bad at all, really,” he sighed, a content smile
gracing his lips. “I mean, you did say you were in love with me too, right?”
“Do kisses not mean anything to you Brits? Is that just
like, a thing you guys do?” You poked fun at him, earning another small peck on
your lips to shut you up. You smiled and laughed, making it messy and causing
his lips to end up short squish against your cheek. He rolled with it though,
smothering your face with tiny little pecks, squeezing you tight in his arms.
From somewhere in the apartment, Harrison screamed “Finally!”