now that we don't talk [tom blyth]

9.

"So," Tom said abruptly, placing his empty glass on the table. It was the third one he'd finished, whilst I was struggling through my second martini, "Why, and don't take this the wrong way, are you in Berlin?"

I scoffed, rolling my eyes at his comment, "it's my job?" I said with a gentle laugh.

His eyes widened, realising how he came off, "no, no, no, I don't mean like th-"

"It's fine, I know you are joking," I cut him off, waving him to stop talking, "No, they sent me the offer a couple of weeks ago. Basically, financial reasons. Pay increase and a bonus, and an all expenses paid trip to Berlin," I shrugged my shoulders.

"Seems like a good deal."

"Pretty fucking good deal, especially when my rent has gone up," he laughed.

"Are you still at the same place?"

"Yeah I am," I smiled.

"Good, I liked that place a lot. Is old lady Kerry still next door?"

"Unfortunately, she must have found a new male companion too," this time we were both laughing.

When Tom lived with me before going away to film, the neighbour, Kerry, used to have a male friend who would come round. Usually, late at night, you would hear them watching movies so loud that it would burst a normal person's eardrums (maybe not the hearing impaired, though), before having sex on the other side of the paper-thin wall we shared in the bedroom. It used to keep us both up at night, laughing, whilst also praying for the end so we could get some sleep. 

"Fucking hell," he laughed before silence fell over us, until the grumble of my stomach broke it up.

"Hungry?" he said with a smirk and I blushed a little under his gaze.

"A little."

"Lets go get some food," he stood, offering a hand out for me to take. He slipped his fingertips between mine, thanking the waiters as we left. He let go to open the door for me and give us a chance to slide our coats back on. The moment my arms were in the coat, his hands found mine, intertwining our fingers together.

"My hands are cold," he said as he leant down, whispering it in my ear. 

"I can tell," I smirked, catching his gaze in the corner of my eye.

We made our way to pizza parlour a street over, ordering 2 pizzas before finding a small park nearby. We sat next to each other on the bench, my body shifted to face him slighltly. My left leg was crossed, the pizza box laying lazily in my lap.

"So," I said with a mouthful of pizza. I swallowed, placing the rest of the slice down and dusting off my hands, "are you nervous for tomorrow?"

He swallowed the last bit of pizza before shrugging, "Kinda? I mean, its my first big premiere. It'll be better seeing you there, though," he said casually as if it was nothing.

It wasn't nothing though. I lit a fire in my stomach and caused my heart to beat a little quicker. His flirting was nothing new to me but being apart for 6 months and thinking that was the end, it had me questioning his intention behind the flirtacious actions. I mean, is he trying to imply that he wants to get back together and resume what we had, or is this his nice way of making me feel better after breaking my heart?

I so confidently wanted to say the first option, that his apologies were genuine and it was all a mistake and this was his way of making his way back into my life and making me fall stupid in love with him again. On the other, more realistic side, I told myself that he broke up with me for a reason, and he must have fallen out of love to do it in such a heartless way and then never speak to me again. Alas, I enjoyed his company and I loved the feeling of my knee grazing the side of his thigh.

I looked down at the pizza box, my hair falling over my face to cover the stupid grin taking over my face. Then, a gentle finger hooked under my chin and gently raised my gaze back up. Tom's blue eyes, illuminated by the light behind me, glowed brightly into mine. The heat rose to my cheeks as he looked at me, his finger still keeping my chin from lowering.

"Don't look away, please," he whispered. I nodded.

He pulled away, much to my dismay, and picked up another piece of pizza, shovelling it into his mouth. Once he finished, he spoke again.

"Are you just doing interviews and shit tomorrow?" I chucked at his choice of words. For someone who spoke with so much knowledge and wisdom in interviews, he dumbed it all down when talking casually. 

"Pretty much, I mean there will be so many other journalist there. It's basically quick one-minute interviews for social media. Nothing too serious," he hummed under his breath.

"What are you wearing?" I raised an eyebrow at his comment. He just smirked, knowing exactly what he was doing.

"You'll find out I guess."

-

Tom walked me back to my hotel, our hands intertwined like before, but this time I wrapped my other arm around his bicep to close the gap between us and generate some warmth. He didn't resist.

We said our "goodnights"'s and "see you tomorrow"'s and for just a split second, as he pulled me in for one final hug, his eyes held mine for a little longer than usual. I almost thought he was leaning in before he pulled back suddenly and said he needed to get back because it was late, not before opening the front door to reception open for me. I watched him stroll down the street before I could no longer see him.

I made my way back up to my room and shut the door behind me. I collapsed on the floor, leaning against the door and taking deep breaths. The anxiety that I had been keeping under control for the last few hours was now taking over my body. Suddenly, my dress was clinging to my body, my shoes were too tight and the stockings were scratching my skin. I stripped everything off and filled the bath up with warm water, submerging myself to the shoulders. My hair hung over the back of the bath, the porcelain cold against the back of my neck.

Taking a few deep breaths, I sat quiet with my thoughts spiraling about Tom and how the fuck I was going to survive tomorrow.