𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

forty | the delusional speech

Y/N

Whoever said going to the cinema is a cute date idea is a mother fucking liar.

Let me explain.

Tom and I decided to go to the cinema together for a date night, picking a late 10pm session to avoid majority of the crowds. We bought two tickets for Timmy's latest movie 'Vengeance' and Tom almost had a bit of a meltdown about not having the right seats.

That boy confuses me sometimes. He's so emotionally fragile, which I like about him; he's very open. Although sometimes the smallest things will stress him out or make him upset. Last week he got sad that we missed the train we had planned to get on, only to have another one arrive ten minutes later. He was sad because that meant ten minutes less of exploring the city.

Last night, the woman at the ticket booth said we could be in the middle section but to the left, or the back section in the centre. Tom wanted the 'middle section in the back-middle'. She looked semi confused when he said that, he just smiled and repeated the same thing a few times before she printed our tickets.

The tickets did not say our seats were in the middle section in the back-middle.

Tom became very quickly glum and mopey, persistent that we wouldn't get the best cinematic experience from the side. He shrugged as I asked him which candy he wanted, holding up a packet of Pods or Skittles. I did the same pointing to the soda machine, running my finger along each of the logos asking which one he wanted. He shrugged again, saying I could decide.

Tom Holland is like a child sometimes.

Sometimes it is adorable and I want to cuddle him.
Sometimes I just want him to pick a fucking soda.

I filled two large cups of Coke, passing them to him as I ordered a huge popcorn box for us to share. I leant forward and pressed the tip of my nose against his, something I did when he got in little sulky moods like this. I held my head there, looking at him as he asked me what I was doing. I stayed silent and poked my tongue out quickly, jabbing his lips before he laughed.

Mission accomplished: Happy Tom.

We did however, arrive to a neat empty cinema where we ended up sitting in the middle section in the back-middle with nobody around us. I think the ticket lady just didn't want to deal with changing out preassigned seats.

Mission accomplished again: Happier Tom.

The movie was great, Timothee was greater, our seats were perfect - Tom was right. Being in the middle section of the back-middle really were some of the best seats in the house. We were exitting the theatre as Tom lifted the near empty box of popcorn to hit mouth to shake the remnants into his mouth before throwing it out. He groaned and coughed as he bit down on a popcorn kernel, throwing the box in the bin and wincing as I laughed at him.

I passed him his drink as we walked back to the car, Tom groaning again as he sipped from his drink.

"I think I chipped my tooth, it's fucking painful," he whined, sticking his fingers into his mouth as I looked at him like he was a moron eating his own hand. He pulled his hand away and furrowed his brows, convinced he had chipped a molar.

That brings me to here, sitting in a dentists waiting room after Tom had to get his tooth pulled out after he cracked the whole bloody thing in half. He's able to get an implant once we get back to the states but since he's semi-scared of surgeries, he went under general anaesthetic for one tooth extraction.

And let me tell you, dental work is fucking expensive without insurance in a foreign country. Tom had to pay out of pocket which was fine because he obviously had the money, but fuck it was a lot.

The dentist reception let me go home for the few hours he was in surgery, calling me back to come and collect him when it was over. He walked out with an ice pack tied around his head and the left side of his cheek swollen.

"Hey baby!" He said attempting to smile. I could tell he was still on heavy painkillers because he'd never called me that in his life. The dentist patted him on the shoulder before leaning towards me.

"This one is a talkative patient, keep him relaxed at home," He said saying goodbye to Tom and letting me sign him out from reception. I turned around from signing a waiver, collecting his medication and found him already live-streaming on Instagram.

"Tom, you're not supposed to be speaking," I sighed, standing and holding the door open for him. He had the ice pack tightly around his jaw as well as gauze packed on the side of his gum where hey had to extract the tooth, all because of a fucking popcorn kernel.

I managed to convince him to at least hold my hand as we walked through to the car park, insisting he still livestream to 'give the fans an inside scoop to our life' whatever the fuck that meant. I drove us back to the hotel we were staying at, having to prolong our stay here due to his accident. Again, how a tiny popcorn kernel could do this I do not know.

"Look how good my girl is at driving on the wrong side of the road," Tom said giggling, turning his phone to face me as I drove. I sighed and rested my hand on his thigh, telling him to stop talking and sip on the bottle of water he had. He rested the phone in his lap, the camera face down in his crotch as he unscrewed the bottle slowly and struggled to put his mouth around the straw. He spilt majority of the mouthful down his chin and onto his shirt before screwing three cap on and picking his phone back up.

"I'm not good at swallowing my water as you guys can see, I spilt it all... You're good at swallowing though darling aren't you?" He giggled deviously, knowing exactly what dirty joke he had just said.

"Tom! I swear to god I'm going to have to confiscate your phone before you say anything more stupid," I sighed, pulling up to a stop light and laughing at him. He pouted and puckered his lips, causing me to shake my head.

"You've got dried blood on your lips you dumbass, I'm not kissing you whilst driving anyway," I laughed, pulling into the hotel car park and getting out for the valet. Tom and I got up to our room as Tom refused to stop the Instagram live, insisting that he show his fans our room and give them a tour.

It wasn't anything special. It was a standard hotel room, with a hit of a view and our mess everywhere. I quickly scanned the room for anything that could get us in trouble, but we were safe.

He sat on the bed in silence, zoning out as the camera was still filming him. He was falling asleep already. I took the phone from him and waved goodbye on the live, ending it and pulling the blankets back for him to get under the covers.

"Can you sleep with me? I don't wanna be alone," he pouted, sticking his arms out towards me and wiggling his fingers.

"It's three in the afternoon Tom," I smiled, getting in next to him in the bed.

"Quick nap?" He reasoned, snuggling into my side as I ran my fingers gently through his hair. His speech was still slurred, and his voice sounded like a child's.

"You know how you don't wanna get married cos you think we're really young and um, you think like, we're really young?" He said sleepily.

"Yeah? Why?" I responded.

"I just want you to know I'll wait for you to be ready, whenever that may be," he continued, yawning and nuzzling his head into my chest.

I was surprised he was stringing a semi-serious sentence together, the anaesthetic obviously removing any filter he had. We'd never talked about marriage before, we'd only just moved in together, but he had said in an interview recently he wouldn't mind settling down. It kind of scared me hearing that.

"And we can have like a huge avocado tree for all of your smashed toast or whatever it's called. And we can live in that with RDJ," he continued, restoring my belief that Tom was delusional on medication and not knowing what the fuck he was talking about.