I've Got Your Six - Mob!TomxReader

Chapter 25 - Tired.

The creased manila file was burning a hole in Tom's dresser, and had been for the last 8 hours. He hadn't slept that night. How could he when he could hear that she wasn't sleeping either?

Tom had spent the night staring at his ceiling, hearing her move from what he assumed was where she was sitting on the bed, to the balcony and back every 10 minutes or so, though every time she moved to the balcony - he could hear her sniffling through the glass, and it broke his heart a little bit more each time.

Tom sat up on the edge of the bed, finally accepting that he wasn't going to drift off any time soon - and how could he now? There was too much to do and not enough hours in the day to do it. Making his way to his wardrobe, he pulled out a black wool turtleneck and a pair of jeans - kicking his boots from the bottom shelf onto the floor so that he could slide his feet into them when he'd pulled his socks on.

At this point, everything felt like a chore. Tom had no willpower to make any effort with anything today, but he had to. For himself, and for her - though she didn't know that yet. Maybe not ever.

Turning away from the wardrobe, stamping his foot to make sure his boot was on properly, Tom turned his attention to the file on his dresser - staring as if it would magically disappear if he stared for long enough.

Sighing, bringing his hand to his forehead and dragging it down his face, he made his way over to the dresser - picking up the file and flicking through it, pausing to pull a polaroid photo out from under a paperclip. His grip tightened on the bottom corner, and it took everything in him not to throw it in a bin and set fire to it right there and then, but he couldn't. He needed it. For her.

-

With a groan, Y/N rose and sat up in bed - the night had felt like it was days and days long, and she couldn't even remember how many times she'd gotten out of bed to just get back in it 10 minutes later.

She willed herself not to cry as she looked around the room, remembering that for the first time in months - she wasn't in Tom's room.

Picking the clothes up that she'd brought with her from the chair at the dresser, she slugged her way towards the en suite to shower. She may not look well, but at least she could feel it - or if not, at least smell it.

Letting the water run over her face, Y/N tilted her head towards the ceiling. Maybe if she stayed here for long enough she could just drown and not have to worry any longer.

Shaking her head, and finishing up her shower, she stepped out onto the wooden pallets beside the bath - watching as the water pooled around her feet and fell between the slats, before drying herself off and getting dressed - pulling her wet hair into a low bun before making her way downstairs.

-

The house was quiet, almost too quiet. Usually by now she would have seen someone, but Y/N hadn't seen a single person in the hour that she'd been sat at the kitchen island, her coffee warming her hand.

She was almost grateful for it, everyone had seen what had happened last night so there would be nobody that she could have a normal, clueless conversation with - but at the same time, she craved some kind of company to take her mind off of it.

Lost in her own thoughts, she didn't hear anything until she heard the scuff of a boot on the marble floor. The coffee in her hand had never looked more interesting.

"...Hi."

Y/N turned her head towards the voice, but her eyes stayed trained on the mug in front of her.

"Hello."

Tom's eye twitched, begging to meet with hers, but she stayed looking at the drink before her.