Tom Holland is a Liar: T.H x Reader

Chapter 21

Two bodies laid across on the grass, one of which was his. It was summer and the air was crisp, the sky was dark and most people stayed in due to the nature of the time. He's looking at me, he's been looking at me all night. 

My clothes laid far from us on the ground, so did his. But we didn't do anything, that wasn't even the plan. He watched me, he smiled and then he'd tell me how beautiful I looked. I laugh, brush it off and blush, then turn away from him to make sure he couldn't see me melt at his words. 

"Y/n,  don't turn away," Tom says, he's learned to read me too well.

I face his eyes,"Do you trust me again?" he asks.

"I think I do"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm...sincerely apologetic," he says.

My eyebrows furrowed in curiosity,"Why now?"

"I don't want to leave and have you remember me as the boy who you could never really trust. I just want to be your best friend again," he replies, his fingers caress my thigh, he rubs little circles along my skin and I feel the heat fill my cheeks as he does so. 

"I trust you," I say and his eyes glimmer in my confirmation. 

He get's closer now, his face practically in front of mine, his body right next to me. He holds me close and feels up the skin of my back, then to my neck. He lets his fingers stretch across as much surface area as can reach, he wishes to feel every inch of me and I let him. He wishes to form an accurate memory before he leaves, something to go off of when his hands lose the weight of my touch. 

My lips touch his and the rush, the same rush I feel every time he touches me. The rush that tortures anyone wishing to take things slow. I gave in so easily to him, I'd kiss him and touch up his chest. He'd always do the same, the thighs then he'd feel around my waist and eventually he'd get to my hair. Tangling and twirling it through his fingers, brushing it out of my face yet messing it up in the same movement. His hand moves down from my hair and brushes against my forehead, my cheek, my chin, he's so mesmerized by the action that I don't dare move out of place. I don't budge an inch as I let him do what he wants, I myself reach out to him. My movements pull him closer and I could stay with him, like this forever. 

His lips break from mine and comes to whisper in my ear, "I missed this,"he says. The words he says gave me an extra breath, another life, something to think about when he was gone.

 I only nod and he continues, "you're perfect." 

I roll my eyes and pull away from him, I let myself lie back against the grass. I let myself look up to the sky and count each cloud as it passes, squint for the sun, and measure the blues that paint up high. 

"Do you want to spend the day with me?" he asks.

"Sure" 

We didn't spend much of a day together I'll be honest. It mostly consisted of silence, a red flag for most but for us, it seemed to be our parallel to arguing. We loved to argue but I missed the silence. We stayed outside until dawn then danced in the living room until sunset. It was stupid but we were young and it wouldn't matter when he'd be gone in a few days. I'd kiss him as he held me in his arms through his sways. The side to side step's we did because the two of us never learned to dance, we had never been asked to  anyway. I've known him all my life, all I knew, he did too, all I didn't, neither did he. But of course he's the one with the successful career and I'm then one yearning for my high school boyfriend. 

My feelings of self doubt subsided in our stride, the music was something I hadn't heard before but I didn't mind it. He hummed along and that was enough for me to enjoy the tune, hearing the melody in soft hums from him was all that I needed to be hooked. I giggled as he'd try to spin me and he'd smile when I'd step on his toes. He loved it when I fumbled and I always did, I practically had two left feet by the way I'd crush into him every other step but he didn't care. 

"Memories," he said, every mistake, every moment, every thing I thought was stupid of me he captured to himself, "it's all my memories," he adds. 

"So you get to remember me as a shitty dancer and I get to remember you as...?"

"A shitty dancer," he laughs. 

I tag along with his chuckles, "You're a well rounded individual Mr. Holland."

"I'm nothing but darling,"

I sigh into his chest, my forehead resting in the crook of his neck and one of his hands come up from my waist to my upper back. He rubs circles with his fingertips as he holds me close

"You won't forget me all the way in LA will you?" I ask, though I ask as a joke I'm frightful of his answer.

"Never," he says.

"But this is it for us...isn't it?" I ask another question, I'm serious this time and he knew I was.

"I think so," he replies.

The words take a second to register, even when we weren't together he was never hard to find. He'd always been in my life, relationship or not. Now I stand regretting the countless months I spent antagonizing him, if only I admitted sooner, then maybe these couple moment could've been for a couple months. Or even a couple days, I was only asking for a few days more but I couldn't even get that. 

"But I think I'm the most in love with you that I've ever been," I tell him.

"We're just too late," he says, my heart sinks at each syllable. Every vowel caused a flurry of headaches, and his sound was a heartache. I was too late, I blame myself. 

Bitter sweet tears, I was happy for him, I was but I cried. I'm a selfish person, he was mine and now he'd be everyone else's. Soon he'll get on a plane where I won't see him for a couple years, when he get's back he'd be a new man. I'll simply be a product of his nostalgia. 

He could see my tears but even he knew there was nothing to do,"I can stay," he assures me.

"I'm not trying to convince you to stay Tom, I'm just sad"

"I'm sad too darling"

"If we had more time, would you have loved me?"

He doesn't even look at me, his voice is weakened like he was talking from the depths of his,"I already do."