HOLIDAY WITH THE HOLLANDS

Passengers

Usually, in stories characters wake at the crack of dawn to the smell of fresh bacon and eggs being cooked in the kitchen, or the noise of the door being slowly pushed open to their loved one carrying in a tray of fresh breakfast for a feast in bed. Whereas you would wake up to the smell... Of Tom. Of course only when you were staying at his for the night, but you loved it. The smell of the traditional lynx deodorant and the thought of your best friend was definitely a guilty pleasure. Opening your eyes you'd see the white sheets, crumpled and messy from twisting and turning all night, the occasional pillow out of place before you realised you weren't in the spare room, you were in Tom's bed.

Quickly sitting up you looked around, hearing the faint sound of music playing from the radio in the spare bedroom which was where you should have been. The sound of Tom humming along to the gentle beat while probably doing some washing up was followed, as you slid your legs from under the sheets and onto the silky carpet. You vaguely remembered the day before, waiting for it to all come back to you.

Rubbing your tired eyes you sneaked out from behind the bedroom door, pacing along the landing and into the spare bedroom. Tom was standing beside the ironing board, running the hot tool along one of his blazers he wore on the Graham Norton show last year making you smile. Before you could lean against the wall he looked up, noticing your shadow sinking into the carpet of the dimly lit room.

"Well, look who's finally awake" he clicked his tongue, followed by the sound of sheet's ruffling. A very happy, far too awake Tessa bounded from the spare bed, running for your legs and eagerly jumping up, paws landing on your hips.

"Aaaah, I'm being attacked!" you motioned dramatically, falling to the floor allowing Tessa to completely consume you with kisses. Tom smiled from above, placing the iron down and walking out from behind the board over to you.

"Get her Tess!" he egged her on, kneeling down and attacking your sides with tickles. You squirmed with a squeal at the feeling of his fingers digging into your ribs causing your body to lock up in shock, kicking and flailing your limbs like a fish out of water.

"No, no! Stop! I give in, I surrender, I surrender!" you laughed hysterically, lifting your arms mistakenly. Tom took the immediate action in sticking his hands under your arms, but it was too late as you slammed them back down and he had found your weak spot. You were gasping for air, trying to roll away from his grasp but he was too strong. Tessa had moved away, Tom now completely straddling you with his weight as he dodged your punches.

"Tom I'm gonna piss myself, STOP!" You choked up a cough, hands flying to his cheeks trying to push his head away.

"Say pleeaaseeee"

"PLEASE FUCKING STOP!"

"Alright, alright" he chuckled, pulling his hands from under your arms and letting you go. Your body relaxed into the carpet completely exhausted, lungs gasping for air as he sat on top of you proudly.

"Oh my god, never again" you smiled rubbing your eyes. You shoved him playfully off of you, quickly standing up to pet Tessa who had climbed back into bed. Tom watched as you flopped down at the side of her, spreading your body out over the soft sheets. He knew he shouldn't but he couldn't help thinking about everything he wanted to do to you. If you weren't in a relationship he knew you'd be his. As selfish as it sounded it's not like he was saying it out loud, he kept it to himself and that was okay. You didn't need to know about the painful crush he had on you.

Because those perfect lips were just right for kissing, and that neck was dying to be covered in hickies. Your arms to deserved to be around his neck, your fingers in his hair. There had been so many times he was surprised when you hadn't caught him staring right at your chest, wanting to bury his face between those perfect boobs, or when he'd look you up and down from behind. It wasn't just about the fact that he thought about fucking you every night before he went to sleep, and your name was the only thing he ever moaned when he pleasured himself, but it was the fact that you were so fucking perfect. Your smile had knocked him dead countless times, you'd made him cry with laughter, and your giggle, your laugh... They were to die for. Your eyes were his favourite colour, and your hair was perfect to play with. You were everything he wanted, and everything he knew he wasn't allowed to have.