Tom Holland Imagines

Priorities (2) ~ 😢

Tom x reader
W/c: 1.8k

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When Tom went to bed that night, his mind was running a mile, he couldn't sleep, he couldn't think about anything other than what a big idiot he was.

Looking back at it now, it was clear how much time he had spend with the boys. He felt stupid for not realising before it was too late. You were right, he did priorities the boys over you, but he didn't mean to. He loved you more than anything, you were his whole world, and now you weren't by his side.

Laying in bed, he looked at your empty side, he had no idea of where you were, and no idea of how you were. He didn't know if you were at a safe place. He had already texted you a million times, called you twice as much, but no answer. Then when it started going straight to voicemail, he knew you had blocked his number. He wanted to make everything good again, but he had no way to do so.

He looked at the place you should be laying, Imagining that you were there. He had seen you lay in the bed so many times, that he could picture you laying besides him, and that's what he did. He pictured your perfect body laying down, a smile on your lips, your skin glowing, laying in his t-shirt that was way to big for you. He could picture you laying there, as if you really were, as if he hadn't fucked up, as if you hadn't left, but nothing of that was true, he knew you weren't there, and that's what hurt.

He turned to his side, facing away from your side, as he did, he could feel his eyes being filled up with tears.

But now he was facing his nightstand, where there was standing a framed picture of the two of you.

After staring at the photo for at least a minute, he took the picture in his hand. It was one of his favorite pictures of the two of you. You were sitting in his embrace on the couch, laughing at something, looking ahead of you, while Tom was looking at you in admiration, it was clear how in love with you he was.

But now you were gone.

He was angry and sad.

Angry at himself for how bad he messed up.

Sad that he didn't have you by his side.

It all felt overwhelming to him, everywhere he looked, something reminded him of you.

All his emotions got to him, he couldn't handle it anymore, he missed you, he needed you. He had fucked up and he knew it.

He took one last look at the picture, before he trew it across the room hitting the wall. The sound of glass breaking repeated in his head. The frame was broken into pieces, it was a visual representation of how his heart felt, broken into pieces.

He laid face down in his pillow and sobbed, crying himself to sleep.

--♡--

A ringing noice woke Tom up, he tried to ignore it, but it kept ringing. He really didn't wanna wake up, all he wanted was sleep and forget. But when it got too much, he shot his eyes open, reaching over for his phone, to see what was up.

It was a call, from Harry.

But Tom wasn't anywhere near ready to talk to anyone, not even his little brother. Even if you called, he wouldn't be able to speak, he would want to, he would want to explain, hear how you were, where you were, and try to fix it all, but he wouldn't know where to start, and what to say. He would do anything to see you, to know that you were okay, that your relationship was okay, even when he knew it was far from okay.

He hanged up on Harry, checked the time, and deciding to go back to sleep, even tho it was half past 1 in the evening.

It felt for him, like sleeping was the only thing, he could do at that point. He had nothing to wake up for. It was saturday, so it wasn't like he had any work to get up to either.