Tom Holland Blurbs

Arch Enemies Or Lovers?

"Tom? Are you in there?" I bang on the door and wait for an answer in the silence. "Please be here. Please be here," I mutter to myself. I can't believe that I'm even here in the first place but desperate times call for desperate measures.

I stand on his doorstep on a freezing December night, and I think I've finally gone insane. I mean what person would actually ask for help from their-

I'm interrupted from my thoughts when the door swings open, revealing none other than my arch nemesis himself. And apparently, he's pretty pissed off with me, based on how he snaps, "What do you want?"

"I...I have nowhere else to go and you were the only person I could think of that might be able to save me."

"Save you?" He laughs derisively at me. "Save you from what? Oh what could I, a lowly villain, save the mighty Y/s/n from?"

"This stab wound?" I open my jacket to reveal my stomach thoroughly soaked with blood that's been steadily leaking from my side for the past thirty minutes.

I watch as shock and something else quickly flit across his face, before his usual cold mask is back on and in place. "And you came to me because? Don't you know how to take care of a stab wound yourself?"

"Of course I do. I'm not an idiot," I snap at him. "But, this particular wound was caused by a poisoned blade. And since your thing is poisons, I figured you might be able to help me."

"Why would I do that? And again, why are you coming to me for this? And don't blame the awful excuse of it being poisoned. That's just lame, darling."

I blush slightly before I force myself to meet his piercing gaze and say, "No. I, uh, had no one else to turn to. Everyone else is either dead or brainwashed by Le Renard. You're the only person I have left that can help me."

He stares at me for another moment before moving out of the doorway, allowing me entrance into his...home? Lair? Hideout? I don't really know what it is. But that's not important right now.

I try and force my legs to take a step, but as soon as I do, my legs instantly give out. I brace myself to hit the floor, only to feel a pair of strongs arms wrap around me, stopping my fall to the floor.

"Y/n? Y/n? Can you hear me?" I vaguely make out Tom's voice, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say it was worried. Weird. I want to look at his face to see what he's saying, but the darkness rushes in, claiming my mind and forcing me into unconsciousness.

~~~~~ Tom's PoV ~~~~~

"Y/n? Y/n? Can you hear me?" I'm worried about her. I had turned around when I realized she wasn't coming in, only to see her collapse. Next thing I know, I have her in my arms and I don't remember making a conscious decision to catch her. But I do have more pressing matters to focus on at the moment than this instinctive response.

I immediately feel her neck for a pulse, and I feel a rush of relief flood through me when I find it. It's weak and unsteady, but it's there. And that's enough for now.

I scoop her up and carry her inside, shutting the front door behind me with my foot. I take her down the flight of stairs that leads to my lab, and set her on the cold, steel table in the center of it.

I head over to my cabinet of antidotes, only to recall with no small amount of frustration that she never told me the poison that was on the blade that stabbed her. I sigh and decide to at least bandage her wound. That should be enough to help her until she wakes up.

I grab the bandages and walk over to her, fully prepared to start helping her. What I don't expect is the rage that boils in my stomach as I finally take in the wound itself.