A Song For You//[Thonny]

Chapter Twelve

The water streamed down Thom's back, warm and soothing against his tense muscles as he stood in the shower, letting the spray hit his face and wash away the remnants of last night. His hands moved through his hair, massaging the strands as the water turned a faint pink, rinsing out the excess red dye that clung to his scalp. He watched as the colored water swirled around the drain, feeling a strange sense of detachment, like he was watching someone else's life unfold.

But it wasn't someone else's life—it was his, and the events of last night replayed in his mind with relentless clarity. The shouting, the anger that had crackled between him and Jonny like a live wire, and then... the kiss. That kiss had come out of nowhere, shocking them both with its intensity. Thom could still feel the rough press of Jonny's lips against his, the way their bodies had crashed together in a desperate bid to make sense of all the chaos between them.

He closed his eyes, tilting his head back into the stream of water, trying to let the heat work its way into his skin and ease the knot of tension that had settled in his chest. But no amount of hot water could wash away the confusion and guilt that gnawed at him. What had they done? And what did it mean for them now?

Thom ran his hands through his hair again, feeling the slickness of the conditioner as he worked it through the dyed strands. The color had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. He had originally just planned on dying it black or something that stood out less, but in the haze of the early morning and red being the first thing he saw, he did little to stop himself.

The shower did little to clear his mind, but it gave him the time he needed to collect himself, to try and piece together his next steps. He wasn't sure what Jonny was thinking now—hell, he wasn't even sure what he himself  was thinking. All he knew was that he couldn't ignore what had happened and this was just another layer to the already present tension.

With a heavy sigh, Thom turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel from the rack. He rubbed it over his hair, feeling the strands fall back into place, the red still vibrant against the pale skin of his face. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he wiped the fog from the mirror and stared at his reflection. His eyes looked back at him, tired and slightly bloodshot, the result of too little sleep and too much emotional upheaval.

Thom's gaze drifted over his features, noting the sharp angles of his jaw, the stubble that had begun to show through after a night of neglect. Shit, I'm too thin. 

He let out a breath and turned away from the mirror, dropping the towel to the floor as he headed to his bedroom to get dressed. The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft, golden hue over the room. He pulled on a pair of worn jeans and a t-shirt that were both too big, the fabric cool against his skin as he moved through the familiar motions of getting ready. But his mind was elsewhere, still lost in the whirlwind of last night.

Once dressed, Thom made his way to the kitchen, the scent of fresh coffee drifting down the hallway. The house was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt too empty, as if it was waiting for something to fill the silence. He had only been back in town for a few weeks, but it already felt like he had lived a lifetime in that short span.

As Thom entered the kitchen, he found Andy shuffling around while eating a cold piece of pizza. He glanced up as Thom walked in, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in Thom's appearance.

"Morning," Andy said, his tone neutral but with an edge of curiosity. "Where were you last night? I heard you get here at like, midnight."

Thom felt his heart skip a beat at the question, the reminder of last night's events bringing a fresh wave of unease. He tried to keep his expression calm, but he knew Andy could see right through him—he always could.