Thomas Sangster x Reader

Chapter 2

That night you were driving to the motorclub, because you had your shift behind the bar. It was buzzy when you got there, and you walked over to your coworker, Jake. He was your ex and you kind of hated this guy but he wasn't that bad to you the beginning of this evening, which was a good thing.

But when you accidently let a beer glass slip out of your hands, he called you a slut again.

After you quickly cleaned the floor, you took a break. You walked outside and it was cold so you put on your coat and sat down on the ground, leaning with your back against the building, headphone on. You lit your cigarette and inhaled it deeply, what made you relax a bit. You leaned your head against the wall, closing your eyes, thinking about what Jake had said.

He was right, you were a slut.

Jake wasn't the only person calling you that.

But what did you care? I mean, if you wanted to be drunk and high in the weekends, ending up in strange people's beds, what was the problem? It helped, being high and drunk, the sex. It made you froget the shit you've dealt with, made you feel wanted.

It was better then cutting your arms and thights open to make the pain go away, what you'd been doing before.

Deep down, you knew this person wasn't you, but you just didn't want it to stop. And nobody cared about you, anyways, so what was the point, stopping with it?

You got pulled out of your thoughts when you felt someone tap on your shoulders, and you opened your eyes quickly. It was Thomas.
After you put of your headphone, you wiped your tears away. You hadn't even realised you'd been crying.

And now Thomas Brodie-Sangster had seen you crying. Great.

"Hey, (y/n), are you okay?" Thomas asked with a concerned voice, and kneeled down next to you. That question got me by surprise, because people never ask it to me. Well, sometimes they did, but that wasn't because they cared.

"How're you doing today?" You asked him, firing back the question. Your voice betrayed you; it was wobbly and cracked at the end. Nice.
"I'm good, thanks for asking. What about you?" He spoke, so gently it gave you goosebumps. Nobody spoke like that to you, and it was a lot.

"I'm fine," you smile, which probably comes out like more of a weird grimace. Quickly, to cover it up, you start to ramble. "So, I knew I regonized you from something... You're an actor! Everyone in town is talking about you, especially the girls..." You flashed him another smile, but this one wasn't fake.

"Yes, I am." Thomas laughed, and sat down next to you. "Not sure about the girls, though, and even if it's true I'm not really bothered."

Does he mean he has a girlfriend?

Why do I care?

I don't.

"So what are you doing here? You want a cigarette?" You asked. "Bad habit, I know."

"Yes, please, bad habit be damned." Thomas answered, and smiled at me while you handed it to him. You pulled out your lighter and lit it. '"I was going to take a look at this club, and I wanted to see if you were working."

"I am. But I took a break."

"Why were you crying, (y/n)?" His voice sounded so sweet. It almost made you want to actually answer the question, but that would be to hard. And he would never look at you the same way.

"It's nothing." You answer while you look down again, purposely avoiding the sincere pair of eyes on you, which are flickering over your face like the answer is hidden there. "I don't want to talk about it..."

"That's okay, but if you want to talk to someone, you can talk to me."

"Why?" You say to the floor.

"I'm new to this town and you are the only person I've met here, so... Just know you can, yeah?"

"Thank you..." you finally look up and he smiles assuringly "Shall I show you around?" You ask.