Collide - Tom Kaulitz

Owe It To You.

"Stop being so fucking stubborn Tom!" Bill scolded his brother. He held a bowl of soup in one hand and a spoon in the other as he attempted to feed his brother.

"Fuck off." The words left Tom's mouth in barely audible mutters, his voice was hoarse. 

"You just had to get sick." Bill complained. He put the bowl and spoon on the bedside table, giving up on feeding his twin.

"It's your fault." Tom argued, "whoever you were with the other night must have been carrying it and passed it on to you."

"Then how come I'm not sick?" Bill defended.

Tom didn't answer, whether his voice had gone or he couldn't come up with an excuse. He lay in bed with his eyes near shut.

Bill rested the back of his palm on his twins forehead. It was still burning up. Bill frowned, he didn't like seeing his brother like this.

Sighing Bill picked up the bowl of soup and brought it with him downstairs. Tom probably wanted to rest, so Bill would leave him to it.

As he walked down the stairs knocking was heard on the front door. Pumba ran as fast as his little legs could to the door, looking back at Bill to make sure he was hearing it too.

Bill smiled at his dog before his attention was brought back to the knocking. He placed the bowl on the kitchen counter and slowly opened the door, peeking his head out at whoever was on the other side.

"Hi." Maeve awkwardly smiled. She lifted the folded clothes in her hands higher for Bill to see. "These are Tom's."

Bill quirked a brow as he smirked at her. Maeve's face reddened.
"Oh no, no not like that. He let me borrow them, I didn't want to return home in that dress. Ben would've gotten the wrong idea-and I swear nothing happened when I was here-"

Bill raised his hands in surrender as he laughed at Maeve's flustered state.
"Relax. I was fucking with you." Bill opened the door wider to invite Maeve inside his home.

"Oh." Shyly maeve walked inside. "Hi." She greeted pumba, she bend down to pet him as the little dog licked her arm.

"I forgot you were coming. Otherwise I would've warned you about Tom." Bill walked in the direction of the kitchen with Maeve and pumba following.

"Why would you need to warn me about Tom?" Maeve frowned in confusion. She had talked to Tom plenty times, Bill knew that.

Bill sighed. He leaned against the marble counter top. Briefly he shut his eyes before looking up at Maeve.
Maeve could see the worry in his eyes, it made her nervous.

"He somehow managed to get sick. His temperature is high, his voice is almost gone and he has no energy. He's not like himself at all."

The sudden sickness surprised Maeve, he seemed fine the other day. She was sure she didn't miss any signs of illness.

"I've been trying to get him to eat, but he's too stubborn." Bill mixed the soup lazily as he stared down at it.

"Maybe I could try." The word's left her lips before she could stop herself. She didn't know why she said it. Ever since she moved to LA, things between Tom and her were different to when they were teenagers. Maeve knew she was to blame for that. She had left.

Bill took a good look into her eyes, like he was trying to read her thoughts. Whatever he saw must have been persuading enough for him to give a nod of approval. Wordlessly he pushed the bowl of soup towards her.

Maeve set the folded clothes onto the counter and carefully picked up the bowl and spoon. Swallowing her fear she made her way up the stairs, barely able to remember which room was Tom's.

The door was left ajar, Maeve could see the grey walls and white curtains. Using her body to open the door wider, she shuffled inside the room. Immediately her eyes landed on Tom, laying in the bed with the duvet half ways down his body exposing his bare chest.

Maeve frowned, she grew worried as she looked at him. He was frowning as his eyes were closed, a crease on his forehead. Quietly Maeve made her way over to the bed, sitting on th edge as she put the bowl on the beside table.

Slowly she reached her hand out to push away his hair from his face.
Her fingers slowly traced down the side of his face, his skin smooth and warm, too warm. It pained her to see him like this.

Tom's eyes slowly fluttered open, at the same time Maeve removed her hand from his face.

It took a moment for Tom to realise that it was Maeve sitting beside him, that she was really there.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was rough and held a rasp. His brows drew together in confusion, his eyes roamed around her face as he waited for her response.

"I came here to return your clothes. I didn't realise you were sick." Maeve mixed the soup with the spoon so she wouldn't have to look him in the eyes.

"You can leave. I'm sure you have better things to be doing." Tom murmured out.

"You took care of me when I was drunk." Maeve shrugged.

"I had no choice." Tom defended.
"And you don't have one now." Maeve quickly chimed in. Carefully she lifted a spoonful of soup from the bowl, signalling for Tom to open his mouth. Reluctantly Tom did. Maeve smiled triumphantly.

"I got offered a job." She spoke lowly, almost hesitant.

Tom looked away from her and instead focused on the ceiling.
"What country will it be this time." He hummed. He didn't sound happy for her, rather he sounded annoyed.

"I wouldn't be leaving LA. My work is wanted by magazines and for fashion events, sports and other occasions. Ben reckons I would never have to leave America." Maeve smiled lightly. Truthfully she was still unsure about it.

Tom breathed in deeply. Stiffly, he turned his head to face Maeve. His stare made Maeve feel paralyzed in her position.
"Is that what you want." He said calmly. However inside, a storm of emotions were brewing.

"I don't know." Maeve whispered.

She continued feeding Tom in silence.

Tom wanted her to stay. He wanted it desperately. Yet, he knew he couldn't be selfish. If she wanted to leave, he couldn't stop her. And that pained him.

In no time the bowl of soup had been finished. Something Bill had previously failed to do.

Maeve watched as his eyes closed again. She wanted to see him back to his old self again. Even if that meant going back to hating each other.

Picking up the bowl she stood from the bed, quietly she walked to the door as she didn't want to wake Tom up. He needed to rest.

"Don't leave."

Maeve's body froze, she stood inches away from the bedroom door. Slowly she turned around and looked at the bed where he lay.

His eyes were closed. He was asleep, he was  sleep talking.

"Stay." He muttered once again.

Maeve thought back to their previous conversation.

"I got offered a job."
"What country will it be this time."
"I wouldn't be leaving LA. My work is wanted by magazines and for fashion events, sports and other occasions. Ben reckons I would never have to leave America."

Shaking those thoughts away, Maeve walked out of the bedroom. She was thinking too much into it. Shutting the door behind her she made her way down to the kitchen.

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