it's always been you (tomdaya oneshots)

14|one step forward, three steps back

A/N: Hi guys! I'm trying something new with this, so lmk what you think :) Make sure to press play on the video above so you can listen while you read! Enjoy!

♫ •♩•♫•♩

Called you on the phone today,
Just to ask you how you were.
All I did was speak normally.
Somehow I still struck a nerve.

He answers the phone on the fifth ring. The final ring. Almost a second before it goes to voicemail. As if he waited until the last possible second to pick up the phone. Like he didn't want to pick it up.

"Hey, baby," I say cheerfully.
"Hey," he says huskily into the phone. I smile at the sound of his voice. It sounds warm.

"I haven't seen you in days! I miss you," I tell him. He's quiet for a moment before I hear his voice again.
"Yeah," is all he says.

I wait for him to say more, but he never does. I start talking again, not losing my chipper tone.

"How was your day?" I ask.
"It was fine." His response is short. Simple. I chuckle a little.
"That's all?"

He lets out a long, tired sigh. He sounds preoccupied. Maybe I caught him at a bad time.

But every time seems like a bad time now.

"Yeah," he replies again. More silence floods the line. It's nearly deafening.

"So," I start, dragging out the "O" "what're you up to right now?"
"Nothing," he replies.

"Oh," I say "well, how'd your audition go for the new movie? Do you think you got it?"

All I can hear is his breathing. Steady, uninterrupted. Everything else is quiet.

"Tom?" I question.
"Look, Daya, do you need something?" he asks. His voice cuts through the phone abruptly. It takes everything in me not to jump.

"What? No, I just—"
"Okay, well, can we talk later? I'm busy right now."
"But, you just said you weren't doing anything..."

I hear a noise that has become increasingly familiar lately. Beep. Beep. Beep. He hung up on me.

"Tom? Hello?" I say into the phone.

I hang on for just a little bit longer, just to see if he's still here—on the other side of the phone. But it's silent. He hung up. And then, I realize.

He hasn't been here for a long time now.

♫ •♩•♫•♩

You got me fucked up in the head, boy.
Never doubted myself so much.
Like, am I pretty? Am I fun, boy?
I hate that I give you power over that kinda stuff.

"What do you think of me?" I ask him as he drives me back to my house. My voice is small. Weak. It can barely be heard over the music.

He swivels his head around quickly, taking his eyes off the road for a split second. He turns down the radio.

"What?" he asks, harshly.