Tom Holland Imagine - I Have Questions
request: tom imagine on the song I Have Questions - camila
a/n: based very loosely on the song I Have Questions by Camila Cabello. i love this song sooooo much but it’s so sad
word count: 1542
“What are you doing here?” you asked him as he stood on the doorstep of the house the two of you had bought together five years ago; the house you had made a home together, filling it with happy memories which you’d hung in mismatched picture frames on the walls over the years - these picture frames were now shattered in tiny pieces across the wooden floors of the house after your fit of rage the night he left; the house which was now filled with an eerie silence and the ghosts of your once perfect relationship; the house he’d abandoned you in five nights ago after giving up on your relationship.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes tearful. “I didn’t… I never meant for it to be this bad. Please let me in, I just want to talk about it.” You were close to slamming the door in his face, but you resisted. The temptation of welcoming him back home was too strong. The hope of him changing his mind, going back on his word, was still there.
“I have questions for you,” you said, finally opening the door enough for him to enter. “Is it my fault?” you asked sitting on the coffee table in the lounge as Tom sat on the sofa he’d picked out eight months ago after he redecorated the lounge as a surprise while you were away working.
“No,” his face softened slightly. “No of course not. It’s not you, it’s-”
“It’s not you, it’s me,” you finished for him. “Really? You’re gonna use that bullshit?” Tom hung his head, almost in shame, realising how pathetic his clichéd excuse was. “Why, Tom? Do you even care about any of this? Do you care?” you gestured to the house around you, tears pricking at your eyes. “Why don’t you care about this life we’ve been building together over the past decade? Why don’t you care?”
Almost ten years ago, you had met Tom at a mutual friend’s birthday party and the two of you were smitten with one another instantly. You’d fallen in love with him fast. He’d seen you at your worst, and you’d seen him at his; when things didn’t seem to go the way either of you had planned in terms of your careers, or sour friendships, or just life in general, you always had each other to come home to. He was the only constant in your life, even if he was travelling throughout most of the year for his job. You had had rocky patches in your relationship in the past, of course, but neither of you had ever walked out before, never even threatening to do so.
“You took your ring off,” his breath hitched in his throat as he noticed the engagement ring he’d given you three years ago wasn’t in its usual spot on the fourth finger of your left hand. You nodded as you bit down on the inside of your cheeks to stop the tears from spilling. Tom rubbed his hands over his face, the skin of his hands catching on the stubble he hadn’t managed to shave.
“I couldn’t look at it anymore,” you said quietly. It was upstairs, in the drawer of his bedside cabinet, in the box it had came in when he bought it. You’d only brought yourself to take it off last night. Keeping it on had only reminded you of what you once had, and it kept a niggling thought in the back of your mind that he might come home and tell you it was only a joke, that he wasn’t really leaving you.
“Is there someone else?” you finally asked the question you didn’t have the courage to ask him the other day. It had been your first thought when he announced he was ending the relationship. He didn’t flinch at your question, not bothering to even lift his head up to look at you. “Oh God,” you exhaled shakily. Your chest felt heavy, knowing his answer without him having to say a word.
“It’s not what you think,” he said bluntly.
“Yeah, well, it never is, is it?”
“Let me explain, y/n, please.”
“I should’ve never ever trusted you,” you thought aloud. “Ten years, Tom. Ten years we’ve been together. Why don’t you care?”
“I do care.”
“No you don-”
“Yes, y/n. Yes I fucking do care. Why do you think I came back here, huh? Why do you think I’m talking to you in here rather than upstairs packing my stuff?” Tom sounded angry, his voice raised. His jaw was tense, and the vein in his temple was slowly becoming more prominent. His fists were balled in his lap, his knuckles turning an ice white. “I care. I care too fucking much,” he spat. “It’s killing me.”
“How long have you been cheating on me?” You asked after a long, uncomfortable silence.
“It’s not… I wasn’t… I’m not..” he stumbled over his words.
“Answer the damn question, Tom!”
“Four months,” he whispered. He lifted his head to look at you through teary eyes. “I’m sorry.” His voice sounded desperate. “Babe. Baby, please!” he called after you as you stood from you seat on the coffee table and left the lounge.
He followed you into the kitchen as you hurriedly tried to escape him. As he grabbed your wrist you turned to face him, brushing him off of you. He was crying now, sobbing even. Whenever you had seen Tom like this, you’d kissed him and held him in your arms, comforting him until he calmed down. But you couldn’t do that now, as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t wipe away his tears.
“After everything Harrison went through when Rachel cheated on him. You know how much that ripped him apart.” Six years ago, Harrison’s ex-girlfriend, Rachel, was sleeping with another man, and it had been Tom that had walked in on them. Of course, he’d told Harrison straight away, and he and Rachel had broken up, leaving you and Tom to pick up the pieces of Harrison’s broken heart. You’d both cried with Harrison, his misfortune paining you and Tom equally. You’d promised neither of you were ever to go through anything like that again. “Please, Tom. I’m waiting for an explanation.”
Tom took a deep breath to try and steady his racing heartbeat. His left hand rubbed at the skin of his right arm fiercely, a nervous habit he had picked up. With shaky hands, you wiped the tears from your cheeks, watching as he fidgeted under your gaze.
“I stopped seeing her,” he told you. “I know that doesn’t make it any better. I know. And I thought it would be okay, I thought I could just forget about it, like it was just a blip in our relationship. We’ve been together for almost eleven years, y/n. That’s a long time.”
“It’s not an excuse.”
“I know that,” Tom was sombre, his heart was heavy with sadness. “It was last year, the end of July. I… I ended it just before Christmas. I thought that if you never found out it would all be okay. And it was. We were so fucking good right after it, don’t you remember, baby? It made me realise how much I love you. I’m so fucking in love with you, babe. The, uhm, the affair just proved that to me. But then I kept having dreams of you finding out, and it made me feel so guilty and it was eating away at me. I just couldn’t put you through that. I thought that maybe if I ended it, with no explanation, I thought it would save you from heartbreak.”
“I gave you all of me, Tom. My blood, my sweat, my heart, and my tears. Everything. You know everything about me. I thought I knew everything about you too.”
“It’s been killing me,” he continued. “It’s killed me thinking of you alone in this house. I thought I at least owed you explanation.” His eyes followed you as you took a seat at the dining table, both of you unsure of what to say. “I love you,” Tom concluded. “I love you so much. I still want to marry you, babe. I still want to live in this house with you. I still want to start a family with you. I still want all of the future we planned together. If you’ll let me?”
“No,” you said, shaking your head.
“No?” Tom questioned, his voice wobbling. “I’m your soulmate, y/n. Don’t you remember what we used to say? We’re so lucky we found our soulmates so young because we have so much more time to spend together. Don’t you remember? You’re my soulmate. My fucking soulmate. I don’t want this to end. I can’t leave you. The other day, it was just the guilt, I know I needed to tell you. I needed to come clean. But we can try again, right?” He was almost begging you now. “We can forget about all of this. It’s just a bump in the road. You’re still my soulmate. This doesn’t change the fact you’re my soulmate.”
“Maybe I don’t believe in soulmates anymore, Tom.”