don't blame me

xiii, you might not like her.

act two, chapter thirteen. you might not like her.

two days had passed, and tommy was walking into the front door of his house with a broken nose and the want to be with the girl he loves once more. unfortunately, he could not be — because he's an idiot.

"hey mum," he muttered, walking into the kitchen where his mother was — his dad, likely at work. "i'm home." his voice was more scratchy than usual.

"tom, you alrig — oh, what happened?" she rushed to him immediately, forgetting about the food she had been previously cooking. "is it broken? how did you do this?"

she had a million questions. and they seemed never ending, to tommy.

"i'm fine, mum," tommy quickly gathered an excuse together. though they were not on speaking terms, olive does not deserve to go down for something that was purely his fault.

"and?" his mum encouraged him to go on, urging him to answer the final question she had asked.

he let out a huff. "i fell down at the beach," tommy looked down shamefully. "tubbo and i were getting a bit rough, and i tripped over a rock and smacked my face on the concrete."

his mother rolled her eyes. she bought it, tommy thought. it was a shit lie, if he was being honest. he could've done better.

"tom, please be careful next time," she rubbed his cheek. "and tell tubbo i scold him from afar."

tommy laughed. "will do, mother."

and with that, tommy marched up the stairs and walked shamefully to his room, ready to unload his backpack and collapse on his bed.

opening his door, he rubbed his eyes and placed his bag by his nightstand — far too lazy to take anything out of it. what was in his room, was not something he was too grateful for.

"catherine, this is breaking and entering."

"oh be quiet, tom," catherine rolled her eyes as her feet were kicked up upon his desk. hey, only i'm allowed to do that. "besides, i'll only get charged for the crime if you call the cops."

tommy rolled his eyes. catherine was okay, but ending it was on a better decision of his. it was a bit messed up to be in love with someone else while dating the person they just so happened to hate.

"why are you here?"

"to talk," she smiled. god, that smile is so fucking annoying. "what happened to your face? get in a fight?"

they both knew tommy would never get into a fight with someone.

"i smacked my face on the floor while playing with my friend."

"we both know that's a lie, tom," catherine saw right through his lie. this was a once in a million thing — he'd proven himself plenty trustworthy; why was she still talking? "what happened."

the girl i'm in love with punched me, and it wouldn't have happened if you didn't appear in the picture, tommy thought. little harsh to say aloud, no?

"olive?"

what the fuck? did i say that out loud? my bad i guess.

"who?"

literally any response could've been better than that one, tom simons. catherine looked at the blonde boy as if he was dumb. which he is, in any case.

"i didn't do anything, tom," catherine furrowed her eyebrows and messed with the stitches on her thumb. tommy was there — she cut it wide open when making food. "why're you blaming me?"

why wouldn't i blame you?

"you made me push olive away, catherine."

the redhead scoffed. "you did that yourself. i never told you to stop talking to her. you almost cheated, tommy. you think she's gonna happily date you after that?"

he looked down at his shoes.

"tommy, i love you," catherine began. "i'm willing to forgive you for everything. i'm willing to forget everything. we can pretend like nothing ever happened!"

the blonde boy now looked up. he looked into the eyes and for the first time, saw what he saw when they had first introduced each other.

who is that? they were beautiful. wavy hair, where it was kind of red but not too red to the point where tommy would compare them to ed sheeran. they had freckles, and green eyes — tommy saw a bit of olive in them.

at that moment tommy didn't know if he was talking about the color or the person.

tommy remembered it as if it was yesterday.

but when he looked at the girl in the chair, looking her directly in the eyes, he still saw the olive in them. the piercing green that stared holes into his own blue ones.

and when he sees the olive in them, he now knows what he means.

he's talking about the person.

"no."

catherine scoffed, yet again. "tommy, you're making a mistake. what was it? that one line in hamilton — oh! don't throw away your shot."

not the alexander hamilton and john laurens reference.. kings, icons, love them!

"all due respect, but none at all.. catherine, get the fuck out of my house."

"tom, i —"

"i said what i said!" tommy opened the window for her, allowing the redhead to step out and walk back across the street. back to brighton, would be better — but that would still mean he can't avoid her forever.

and then, tommy turned to face the window opposite him. the window that he used to point his flashlight at and send messages with morse code.

now, it was an empty window — the blinds were closed, the curtains were likely over it. tommy sighed upsettingly, only one thought on his mind —

"i'm going to get you back, ollie."

— tommy !
me finally updating after 600 years

ps tommy is a john laurens and
alexander hamilton shipper he's a
faithful believer in it aside with
olive