pairing: tom holland x reader
prompts: “Sometimes I really don’t like you.” & “I’m too sober for this.”
warnings: angst (as usual), swearing (is that still a warning at this point?)
a/n: god, this was sent in by @tomhollandswhoremain back in november when i said i would do some writing in december. i didn’t know work could be as draining, and it got dragged until now. sorry, hun! i hope this meets your expectation? feedback is always welcome! x avery
The door slams hard and heavy against the wall, but you could care less as you storm into your hotel room, a storm leaving destruction in its wake.
Your thoughts are a jumbled mess, stringing along a thousand different wishes and knotting into the same scene that plays before your eyes repeatedly. Mocking you. The beautiful brunette stepping into Tom’s personal space, offering him a drink. Him throwing his head back, laughing at something she said over the loud music. Her hand sliding down his bicep, his resting just above the curve of her ass.
You turned away from the pair after that. The sight killing your excitement of a night out with Tom and your friends. You should not be feeling the stomach-turning jealousy when he was not yours.
At least, that’s what you told yourself. As you slide on a newly vacanted stool at the busy bar, waving the bartender over once he finished his last order. “Something strong, please.”
His eyebrows shoot up at your request. You are his ‘regular’, mostly with your friends being the ones who actually down alcohol like water. Never you. Hence his hesitance.
“Hurry the fuck up, Isaac. Before I walk out the busy street and get run down by a car.” You had snapped at the poor guy, who wisely started pouring a shot of vodka.
“I’m too sober for this.” You muttered under your breath, as your eyes instinctively tracked Tom across the crowded dance floor. Screw me ten times over. She was dancing with him. Grinding, to be precise.
A glass is slid across the black marble surface, and you knocked back the concoction without thinking. Relishing in the feverish burning as the alcohol makes its way down your throat. You were onto your third and well on your way to oblivion when Harrison slips into the next seat.
Laughing loudly at something Isaac just said, you swivelled to face the newcomer. Instinctively, your middle finger goes to push the glasses up your nose, only to find that they weren’t there. You snickered at your own stupidity when you remembered you wore contacts for the night out.
“Easy there, tiger,” Harrison grips your forearm gently, thinking that you lost your footing.
You pouted at the boy, “I was having fun.”
It took all your will strength not to throw a glance at the dance floor. At the boy who held your heart unknowingly. At the beautiful female who now held his attention. You didn’t want to know if his hands were travelling down her body, or her, his. You didn’t want to know if the lips that moulded onto your own effortlessly were touching her skin.
Frowning at your glass as you turned it in your hand, you drew three ten dollar bills from your phone case. ”No harm no foul, Haz. Lighten the fuck up.”
You flagged down Isaac, asking for two more shots of alcohol. One for you and one for Harrison. Well, at least, that was what you intended before he glared at the bartender and waved him away.
“Running away from your problems won’t solve them, (Y/N). Both of you are acting as if nothing is wrong, but you know that’s far from the truth.” He pressed on the matter that had been burrowing under your skin the entire evening.
“Well, tuning them out just happened to be a great skill of mine.” You rolled your eyes at the boy staring holes into the side of your head. “And you’re wrong about it, we are great.”
“Yeah, that totally explains why you’re not the one over there dancing up to Tom sexually,” Harrison deadpanned. Well, if words hurt that much, you don’t see a point of striking a hammer to your barely together heart by looking yourself.
You turned to grab your coat from the back of the chair, careful to keep your eyes down the entire time. “It’s been absolutely pleasant talking to you, Haz. But certain things you should leave alone.” You left him at that, weaving your way through the crowd and barely suppressing the shudders that ran through you when sticky skin brushed past you. You didn’t bother calling for Tom who was your ride here since he was so preoccupied, opting for an Uber instead.
So here you were, alone in your hotel room, stretched out on a seat before the New York City skyline, nursing a glass of scotch after you had your mini meltdown. It was a casual relationship without labels. The only rule you had was to tell each other if you wanted someone else. And tonight, he trampled it under his feet, together with your trust.
This was slimy disappointment sliding down your spine, seeping into the crevices and making them home. You weren’t surprised, but you thought he could have been your one.
You keep wishing to be the unbroken person you were before your father broke your heart when he cheated on your mother. You keep trying to be the best version of yourself who Tom deserved. But it’s impossible. This wretched distrust, it had carved a home in you so long ago, that no amount of digging or sawing can wrench out its rotten roots.
And tonight, oh gods, tonight. It cracked a filthy smile at you, the silent ‘I told you so’ went unspoken, but heard all the same. It makes you furious at it. Makes you want to beg for it to leave you. But maybe, somewhere in that roughly pieced together heart of yours, you knew it was real.
Boys can never be trusted, but you wanted to trust him. Wanted to, but can’t. Even though he never gave you a reason not to, and now he has.
Perhaps love is nothing but a beautifully crafted lie. Made to entice hope in humans when life is dust and ashes in the eyes of immortality.
The soft click from the entrance sent you tensing and sitting up unnaturally straight. The fact that Tom has a copy of your keycard was lost in the midst of your brooding. For once, since the first time you met Tom, you had absolutely no idea what to say to him.
He brought you out of your internal dilemma, cracking a crooked grin at you as he made his way to the bed. His words sounded so distant and foreign on your ears. As if the voice you had grown to love became unfamiliar in the past two hours.
How can a person look so beautiful with messy hair and a plain white tee shirt after a night out? You couldn’t decide if it makes you hate him a little less or a little more. Tom was staring at you expectantly, and you felt foolish, having no idea of what he just said.
You brushed the thought aside. “Figured you weren’t coming back with me tonight. So I went ahead and got myself back.” A question yet a statement. A challenge yet a chance to explain himself. If he wanted to.
He leaned back on his elbows, kicking off his shoes. Normally, you’d be padding over to him by now. Or in his lap. “That’s absurd, (Y/N). I told you I’m staying over before we went out. I don’t break my word.” Don’t you, Tom? Don’t you?
“Thought you were busy when I left. Well, you seemed busy.” You were watching him carefully, choosing your words carefully. Like you have been doing your whole life. Careful of your words, and your actions. Careful not to hurt other people’s feelings. But they were always careless with yours.
A strange sense of calm was settling over you. Breathe in. Breathe out. Let him go, (Y/N). There. Your decision is made.
As if he sensed the change in the air, Tom left his spot, taking a seat beside you.
“(Y/N), nothing happened between us. I swear it.”
“No. That’s not- It doesn’t matter.” Not anymore. You gripped the glass tightly, watching as your fingers turn white from the pressure.
“Don’t shut me out, love,” Tom slid down to the floor, kneeling in front of you. He gently pried your fingers off the glass, setting it on the table behind him without looking. His eyes stayed on your face all the time, watching for a hint of something. Anything that could point out what might have possibly caused this reaction out of you.
“I want us to stop. Whatever this is. Was.” The words fell from your lips in a soft whisper, as if it would cause collateral damage if it were to be any louder. But it didn’t matter anyway, as the different emotions flashed through Tom’s eyes, each just a passing glance before the beautiful brown went unreadable.
It shouldn’t surprise you when you had seen that look a thousand times. More. The mask of an actor being donned. The shield that slid into place among a thousand others.
“Sometimes I really don’t like you. You know why? Because you are so fucking selfish, (Y/N).” He let loose a mirthless laugh. Retracted his hand from yours, falling against the soft cushion. “All this time, you knew how I felt about you. You strung me along like your plaything, and the one time I showed the slightest interest in anyone other than you, you act as if we are exclusive. I never minded being used by you, but this is just cruel.”
Fire. And blades. That’s what his words felt like, striking an unhealable wound deep into your chest. You deserved it. Deserved worse.
“God, Tom, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to feel this way. If I had known, I-” Your heart dropped as he roughly brushed your hand away. Your hand, that was reaching for him. That was when you knew you would be out of his life for good.
“Save the pity speech, darling.” He spit out the word as if it was poison, burning him up inside. You never thought love could hurt this bad. Love was supposed to be good and safe. Maybe this is what happens when you keep your love for him a secret, meant to be buried with you. “We both knew you are incapable of love, but I was too much of a hopeful fool in love.”
You didn’t know what hurt more. The fact that you love someone who doesn’t understand who you are, or that he loves someone that wasn’t you. Perhaps you could ponder over the heartache, feeling empty and alone in the room. There wasn’t anything you could do, watching your heart leave you with every step he takes.
Maybe one day you would reclaim it. But a part of your heart would always shadow his.
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