O R P H I C. [Tom. R × Reader]

25. Touching Grass.

=🌿=

I finished the bottle of wine while Abraxas and I were making small talk. At one point he made me move so he could clean up. He even emptied the bath for me. He's been hanging out with me for a couple of hours, and I've partially sobered up.

"Will you be okay if I go?" Abe asks, patting my head.

"Yes of course" I smile. He pulls me into a brotherly bear hug, and waves as he turns to leave.

"Good night, Y/n" He grins.

"Night Abe" I wave. And with that, he's gone.

I sigh, standing up. I'm not tired at all, and want something to do.

"What do you want to do, Juni?" I ask, turning to the pretty snake, rested in his snake house that I bought.

"I'd appreciate a trip outside" He hisses.

"Mmmm. I'll think about it" I smile, gently pushing the wooden beam in my bookshelf to the side, triggering the mechanism for it to open.

Once I slip through, I browse the many books that Tom has stored in here. He was awfully modest when he said he wouldn't have enough books to full much of the room.

His collection filled at least four shelves.

I sigh, moving on towards the desk at the back of the room. I sit down in the chair and open the top the drawer, pulling out the notebook, for no specific reason. I open it to the front page, where Tom had written his full name for some peculiar reason.

I admire his neat, flowing, cursive handwriting.

𝓣𝓸𝓶 𝓜𝓪𝓻𝓿𝓸𝓵𝓸 𝓡𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓵𝓮

Tracing my finger over the pretty letters, I sigh. Why should I miss him? He's only been an ass.

'The warmth of his hand'
'His soft gaze'

'The sarcastic, yet loveable comments'

'The rare smile'
'The silent conversations'

I smile slightly, looking down. Then force myself to snap out of my delusional trance.

'He doesn't think that way. Why would he?'

I flick through the thick pages, without any aim.
Though once I get to the last page, I saw another chain of writing, in the same style.

𝓨𝓸𝓾ʹ𝓻𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓲𝓯𝓾𝓵.

I frown.

'What?'

Surely Tom didn't write this. But it's undoubtedly in his handwriting. I blush, and it feels like my heart is being squeezed, confusion still overflowing my mind.

He most likely doesn't mean me anyway. But why would he write that in my book? Who could he be referring to? Why would he write that of all things!?

I need some fresh air. Maybe I'll find the place where I used to always go. Though I'm not sure it'll still be there now. Maybe it wasn't there during this time.

I leave the book open on the desk, and leave the study, closing the door behind me, concealing the room once again.

Deciding that I would get changed again, simply because I can, I pull out another set of clothes.

Leaving on the black thermal top, I pull a grey shirt over my head this time, it's designed for a specific fashion, supposed to be tucked into a pair of pants, over top another article of clothing, so it doesn't have buttons or anything.