Re-centre
Tom Holland x Reader
Not my gif
My requests are open if you have any ideas <3
“Come on Tom don’t be ridiculous!” You match his volume, “I had every right to be annoyed. We’d planned this thing for weeks!”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, (Y/n)!” He continues to defend, “I’ve had a busy schedule with everything going on and it just slipped my mind. I can’t change that.”
“I reminded you that morning!” You point out, “And it’s not like you were doing something you couldn’t get out of. Drinks with the boys? You can do that anytime!”
The derivative of this argument had stemmed from Tom missing an important evening you were supposed to be attending for your business. He knew you’d been terrified about it for weeks and you’d been prepping to meet all of these important business figures since you’d first been invited. You wanted him by your side. Instead, he’d supposedly forgotten and gone out with the boys for drinks instead. Sure, he had been busy recently. He’d been doing a bunch of press for Onward and had only recently finished up with Cherry, whilst also juggling a few new projects that seemed to be in the pipeline. But you’d asked for one night. And you didn’t expect that to be so hard for him.
In fact, the two of you had been arguing a lot recently. Ever since you’d moved into this flat together, you’d been at it like an old married couple. You hadn’t done the dishes? Argument. He’d forgotten to get the groceries you’d asked for? Argument. You came back late from work and hardly saw him? Argument. Day after day, the blissful couple managed to sink further and further into the stage they never wanted to get to.
“Really? Because on top of work, and travelling and everything, I hardly get to see them anymore,” He comments, running a hand through his hair, “I just thought I’d have one night to enjoy myself.”
“I wanted you to be there Tom,” You sigh, “I was terrified. Do you know how humiliating it is to be talking to investors and have them question why the seat beside me was empty at dinner?”
He swallows and you watch as his Adam’s Apple bobs prominently, “It wouldn’t have made a difference to their opinion of you if I was there or not.”
You scoff, “Right, Tom,” You fold your arms like you’re closing him off from you, “But it would’ve made a difference to me. I wanted my boyfriend to be there to support me. But I guess not.”
That silences him. All of his arguments to defend himself seem to fall flat.
“You have to be at the studio for interviews in an hour, you should probably leave now,” You comment coldly, hardly glancing up from the floorboards as you speak, “I’ll see you later.”
He doesn’t have it in him to find the right words to respond with. Instead, he watches you walk into the room that you shared in this apartment before he finally drops his hope and packs up his things to leave. As he left, all he could think about was how much he’d held you in that room. How many times had the two of you shared a bed? Without him falling asleep on the sofa, or in a hotel halfway across the world. Without an argument meaning you turned your backs to each other after a hasty good night. All he could think of was wrapping his arms around you tightly and promising you that you’d wake up with them still tight around your torso. He’d give you a morning kiss and ask to stay with you like that forever, until life dragged you to your separate callings.
- - - - - -
He’s already been asked if he’s okay four times since he got here - all by different people. They all said that he didn’t seem like himself but he’d dismissed it as fatigue quickly. Chris seemed the most concerned as they both got their microphones connected for the interviews.
“You good, buddy?” Chris frowns, watching Tom like he was a brother to him whilst Tom blanks out.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Tom nods encouragingly, trying to force himself back to normal.
“You know we don’t have to go ahead if you’re not comfortable,” Chris points out, “I’ll do them alone if you-“
“Honestly man, I’m good, let’s go,” Tom shakes it off, heading out through to the first interview of the day.
These days were always pretty long - interview after interview that always seemed to hold similar questions or set ups. But you always managed to brighten them. You’d send him a text to check he’d got there okay, or you’d sent him a voice note to update him on your day so far. Especially recently as the two of you had moved into your apartment. His phone would normally be buzzing a thousand times as you sent him different photos of cute furniture that you’d managed to find. Today, he hadn’t heard anything.
He knew he was in the wrong about this whole situation with you. You were completely right to want him to be there with you. You’d always done the same for him - press events, charity nights, premieres. You’d been by his side for all of his major moments. And he’d managed to slip up on the one night where it mattered. He knew that this would matter more to you than if he’d missed your birthday, an anniversary, even a meal with your family. Your career? That was always a big thing for you, and so was having Tom there to support. So yeah, he’d fucked up. And he’d made things worse by being too proud to admit it.
“And what about you Tom?” The interviewer continues, focusing his attention on the boy that was hardly in the room.
“Oh, I’m sorry, could you repeat the question?”
- - - - - -
“Man, what’s with you today?” Chris frowns, “I don’t wanna be rude but you’re really not with it today.”
Tom sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “Just been a bit of a long day.”
“Well, we’ve got three left,” Chris encourages, “I’ll be my wonderful self and you can sit back and look pretty.”
Tom tries to laugh but it falls flat against the weight on his chest. He wanted to be home. He wanted to find a thousand ways of making this up to you so he could tell you once and for all that he would change and that he was wrong. Every passing moment increased his fears that, this time, he’d be too late.
“Alright so, a lot of fans sent in questions for this interview,” The woman explains, Tom hadn’t been alert enough to catch her name, “Chris, what was your favourite thing about working on this film?”
Chris chats away naturally going through his answer, making some sort of joke that Tom forces a laugh at.
“And Tom, a lot of questions came in for you,” The interviewer smiles, “How have things been for you and (Y/n) now that you guys have moved in together?”
His eyes fall at the mention of your name, trying his best to muster any composure he can find before he looks back up, “Um,” He stops.
It felt like everyone’s eyes were on him. The useless boyfriend acting as though everything had to be fine.
“Things are going great, thank you,” He tries to readjust in his chair and smile, “We’re settling in well.”
“And she’s been very busy with her business recently,” The interviewer persists relentlessly, “You guys must be so busy! How has that worked?”
Tom feels himself fight against the quivering of his bottom lip, “I’m sorry, excuse me.”
“Tom?” Chris speaks up, frowning at the sudden change in demeanour.
“I have to go,” Tom stumbles quickly, “I’m so sorry.”
The interviewer seems practically dumbfounded.
“I’m sorry, excuse me,” Tom tries to de-tangle himself from the microphone and step through the maze of cameras and crew around them.
His assistant watches on in horror - this would be a hard one to explain!
But Tom would deal with all of that later. He gets himself out of the room with rapid breathing as he starts hurrying down the corridors to try and get out of the building. To get home to you.
- - - - - -
He’s practically trembling on the taxi journey all the way back to the flat - he’s convincing himself of every possible negative outcome and telling himself a million times that it’s too late to rectify what he’s done. The thought alone causes adrenaline to surge through him.
When the cab pulls up outside of your building, he rushes to the penthouse like there’s fire behind his feet. But as soon as he reaches the door? All of that comes crashing down. And there’s an odd solemn nature that falls over him that he can’t manage to shift.
There’s soft music playing from inside the flat and he’s cautious as he unlocks the door. It’s quiet and calm but he’s certain that the aftermath of a storm is always worse than the storm itself. You’re always awaiting the next.
Tom walks through the flat calmly until he reaches the spare room. The two of you had used it as a very jumbled place for storage since you’d moved in and never really got round to organising. Clearly today you’d set that task for yourself.
“Hey,” He begins softly and it instantly makes you jump.
You hadn’t heard him over the music.
“What are you doing home?” You frown, checking the time, “I thought it wasn’t supposed to be for at least another hour.”
“Yeah I know,” Tom scratches at the back of his neck, “I left early.”
You frown once again, “What happened? Was everything okay?” You pause the song and focus solely on him.
“Um, yeah, listen (Y/n)...” He pauses, glancing over at the photo album in your hands, “What are you doing?”
“Just looking through some old photos,” You tuck some stray hairs behind your ears and it pains you that it’s not his hand to make the movement, “I got a bit distracted from clearing out.”
“Can I join you?”
You shift around on the floor to make room for him beside you and, as he’d asked, he comes to sit cross legged on the carpet next to you.
“Oh my god!” Tom picks up a photo from the floor, “This was from Halloween, what like 3 years ago?”
“Yeah,” You smile, “The avengers idea!”
Your eyes glance over the group of you - you were Black Widow, Tom was Hawkeye, Tuwaine: the Hulk, Harrison: Captain America, Harry was Iron Man and Sam was Thor. You’d never been so proud of yourselves when the idea actually came off well.
“Why didn’t you go as Spider-Man?” You frown, looking at another photo of the night.
He laughs, “We said we’d go as the original group!”
The laughter settles as you move onto another one, the two of you on your first holiday together. Tom had taken you to Barcelona for your birthday and it had been the most under planned trips ever. The hotel ended up misbooking you so you had to find somewhere last minute, your flights got mixed up too and Tom forgot to book the restaurant that he’d been planning for your actual birthday evening. But it couldn’t have been more perfect. You spent the evenings hand in hand around the streets, you found quaint little corner shops and cafes that sufficed to make the entire weekend something you’d never forget.
“God, I really fucked up with that one!” Tom shakes his head, flicking through a few failed photos that an old couple had taken of you two.
“No, don’t be silly,” You defend, “It was beautiful.”
He smiles lightly and the two of you immerse yourself in more photos, organising them into the years of memories that you’d made together over your relationship. You slot the final photo into an album and set it into the box with the others - one for each year.
“(Y/n) I’m really sorry,” Tom begins, evidently returning back to his initial reasoning for coming home, “I didn’t mean to miss that event, and I know it was completely stupid of me to forget. I should’ve spoken to you and told you what I was doing. And if I’d have remembered, I would’ve been there with you.”
You look down at your hands in your lap.
“I know I can’t blame this on my forgetfulness or just act like this was a silly, forgettable mistake, because it wasn’t. Darling, you’ve always been there for me, every event, every premiere, everything- you’re always by my side. And, on one night where I should’ve been doing the same, I was ignorant and didn’t think of you as much as I should’ve done. As much as I should always do,” He sighs, the frown between his brows increasing, “You don’t deserve to be treated like that. God, if I’d have been there, I would’ve been proud beyond belief of you, of everything you’re achieving. You melt my heart with how unbelievably proud you make me and it kills me that I didn’t show you that when I should’ve done.”
You reach over and squeeze his hand, “Tom, we’ll keep going around in circles if we keep talking about this.”
His mouth parts and it’s like you see his heart sink, “What are you saying?”
“Dance with me,” You mumble, reaching over to play the music through the speakers once again.
It’s ‘Falling’ from Harry Styles’ album that starts playing and it seems awfully bittersweet for the moment. It doesn’t exactly fit but you don’t care.
You pull Toms hands and wrap your arms around him as he does the same to you. He’s uncertain at first but soon relaxes into your body being against him. He holds you close and lets your head hear the calming beat of his heart against his chest. You take in a shaky breath and feel like you’re holding him close enough to mold him back into you, into every part of your body and your mind.
“I love you,” Tom whispers against your hair, dipping his head down to bring the words as close to you as possible.
It feels like the first time in forever where he says those words and they really sink into your veins like they did when they’d first left his lips.
And, somehow, it brings you back to everything that had ever mattered. Something you’d managed to almost lose. Us.
“I don’t want to lose this.”