Tom Holland Imagines

Illicit Affairs

A/N: Happy Friday, Lovelies! Here's another Taylor song for this weekend (we all knew there would be at least a couple of these in a row due to the abnormal amount of her songs in my playlist haha). This one will probably be a little bit sadder than you're used to reading from me simply because it's what I imagine whenever I listen to the song, so if you're not great with angst, then maybe skip over it? Love always,

LuckyHolland xx

 It had to end. You knew it had to, however much as you dreaded the look in his eyes and that feeling of emptiness that you knew too well. But this time that emptiness would have to last forever and not just for a week or two between heated kisses and the feel of his skin pressed to yours. It just couldn't go on.

Why? Because it killed you every time he put on his coat to leave when he'd sworn he never wanted to. Because it killed you that the stolen glances in gold-plated rooms that were the beginning of other people's fairytales were the beginning of your Hell. Because it killed you that no matter how many times he told you he loved you, you couldn't wear the perfume you'd gotten for him, lest she smell you on his collar and end it all. Maybe he did love you for real. He said he did. He said what he had with her wasn't actuality and he just couldn't bear to break her heart. But you couldn't live with "maybe" anymore.

As you slid out of your car, you hoped the pouring rain would mask your tears. The sky looked as grey as you felt. You saw him get out of his drivers' seat from across the secluded parking lot. He pulled off his hood and you marvelled at the softness of his curls one last time, knowing that if you reached out to touch them, even to brush off the rain, you'd be hopelessly lost for good.

As he drew nearer his grin faded. "What's wrong, love?" He met you in the middle, brushing some tears from your cheeks with his perfect fingers.

"I can't do this anymore, Tom." The trail of fire that his touch had left in the wake of the cold rain broke you further.

"What do you mean?" There was concern in his beautiful dark eyes. You tried not to wonder if it was for you or for the situation. 

"I can't keep doing this. I can't keep meeting you in desolate woods or in empty parking lots and pretending it's okay, because the way I love you, it isn't. We were supposed to have a real relationship. That's what our sort of beginning is supposed to mean. But how can I keep loving you if I can't leave any part of myself with you? How am I supposed to keep listening to those things you tell me knowing that I'm not truly yours?"

"Oh, Y/N," he breathed sadly. "That's simply not right! You are mine! All of those things I tell you are true! Of course they are! Just because I was with her when I fell for you doesn't mean I love you any less."

"But they aren't true! Don't you see? They can't be true when you only say them on the edge of your highs and it used to be enough for me, but I just can't do this anymore!" You could see him getting upset.

"How could you be so selfish? You think I don't hate this as much as you do? I don't love her like I do you!" Tears were brimming in his eyes now.

"I'm selfish?! Tom, you go home every night to her and pretend I don't exist. Don't you realize what that does to me?"

"Baby..."

"Don't call me 'baby'!"

"I'm not sure what else I can say!"

"Look what you've done to me! Look at this godforsaken mess you made me! I can't keep living like this and if you really loved me you'd understand!"

"I do understand! You aren't being fair! Our love should be worth the pain! Can't you just hold on for me?"

"You know damn well I'd ruin myself for you, Tom. And that's what I did. And it kills me so much to have to even think of this, but I just can't do it anymore. I'm sorry."

You pressed your lips to his in a final goodbye and ran sobbing to the car. He didn't follow.

That's the thing about illicit affairs, and clandestine meetings and longing stares. It's born from just one single glance, but it dies and it dies and it dies a million little times.