The girl next door, - ᴛ.ᴋᴀᴜʟɪᴛᴢ

chapter thirty-two.

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3:04AM.

☠︎︎ 𝙼𝙰𝙽𝙳𝚈'𝚂 𝙿𝙾𝚅

Tom was asleep beside me; his head tilted to the side, lips parted, and the covers loose over his abdomen. My head was on his bicep, and my body curled up beside his.
I couldn't sleep.

My head was pounding from my impending hangover, the street light outside beaming into the room through the window to top it off. I sighed heavily, rubbing my face and turning my head to look at Tom's face.

I felt safe and comforted being so close to him. I always did, and there weren't words to describe how good it felt to feel him against me again. Weird, I know. But it was that awfully sick and nervous feeling that told me; "Fuck, Mandy. You've missed him too much."

Because I did.

"Mmm," Tom breathed out, stirring slightly in his sleep. I slowly sat up, removing the covers from my body as I shifted to the end of the bed and pulled on my dry, dirty clothes. Anything but my skirt. There were some.. certain stains on it.

As I zipped up my jacket, I glanced back over at Tom, my eyes flickering over him. The sheets tangled around his waist, arms supporting his face while he slept on his stomach. His dreads were down, rare sight. They were sprawled out across his back, shoulders, and the pillow.

I slipped off of the bed, walked over to his nightstand, and took the cigarettes halfway spilled out of the pack. I took the lighter beside them and padded towards the window as I gave it a push open. The cold air hit my face, making me wince.

The weather was unbelievably cold. Snow everywhere. And I thought it was bad a few months ago.

I stood by the window, my hair pricked up, and my skin numb already. I pulled the cigarette to my lips, flicking the lighter and watching the flame falter slightly before I closed the lid and tossed it aside.

From Tom's view, I could see directly into my room. I found it amusing, wondering if he watched me even when he was pissed off. I guess it was hard not to when I'd be walking around my room in just underwear and a bra sometimes.

I took another drag of my cigarette and flicked it, twitching in suprise at the hand slipping around my waist. I turned my head, glancing at Tom over my shoulder as he watched me curiously before he rested his head on my shoulder with his arms around me.

Tom was always at his most docile point when you didn't expect it.

His hands went to my waist while he pressed a kiss to my shoulder and took my cigarette, dragging from it before tossing it.

"Did I wake you?" I asked, glancing up at him as he shook his head quietly, his hands moving gently up my jacket and sides. They were warm and felt like a pleasing feeling against my cold skin. In fact, he was always warm. Maybe it was the pounds of clothes constantly picking up his heat.

I turned, pulling him slightly down as our lips met. Tom's hands were still moving, but he stopped at my lower back before shifting to my waist and quickly lifting me up as he pinned my legs around his hips.

You see, we didn't even really need to communicate. We were both thinking the same thing. "I'm still pissed off at you. Let's fuck over and over again and bottle up all over again. Fuck, ignore, repeat."

Thing is, Tom and I have different wants right now. I don't know Tom's. It could be wanting to fuck someone else, or to go and do whatever he'd like; which he does anyway. But I just wanted him to admit he loves me.

I glanced at him, my thoughts reeling quietly.

Look at me. Tell me you love me. Fuck, please?

My eyes flickered to Tom's hand, watching him pull out a condom from his pocket before he placed me down, spun me around, and bent me over with my hands on the sill.

"Tom, what if people see?" I breathed out, glancing at him while he tore open the condom with his teeth and watched out the window. "If I can't have sex in the comfort of my own room, what could I do?" He said, pushing his loose jeans down ever so slightly and tugging off my thong.