SPIDER-BOY {a collection of Tom Holland imagines}

6 Months Later//Tom

"Look y/n, I'm sorry, I don't like being apart either but..." Tom let out an exasperated sigh, "this is my career!"

"I know, I know that's important to you.  It's just..."

"What?!"

"It's just you've become excruciatingly unreliable!"  Your voice raises to a frustrated shout.  "Never coming home when you say you will, never even calling to say that plans have changed, constantly ditching me the very few times we actually get to spend time together!"

"I'm doing everything I can!" 

"Are you?" Your voice breaks.  "I can't live like this anymore, I can't keep feeling like this relationship means more to me than it does to you."  At this point you wipe the tears that had been skating down your cheeks.

"I don't -I don't know what you want me to say," Tom voice has quieted.

"Maybe...maybe we should take a break," you bite  your lip in attempt to stop more tears from spilling, but to no avail.  Tom doesn't say anything.  Instead he looks down and gives a slight nod.  You can't bear to look at him.  To see those heart-broken brown eyes would be like saying it all over again.  "I think you should leave."

~~~

You take a deep breath as you pull your leather jacket a bit snugger around your body.  Through the window of The Red Brick Cafe you could see the back of a young man with curly brown hair. 

Tom.  

It had been six months since you had last seen him.  Six months since you had broken up.  Six months since he had gone back to Atlanta for shooting.  Six months of crying yourself to sleep.  Six months of trying to move on.  Though your mind fights it, you step through the yellow painted door and into the coffee shop.  A little bell rings signaling your arrival.  Tom turns around to face you.  He smiles and stands.  You cross the small room toward him.  

"Hey," Tom says as he studies your face.

"Hi."  You sit down in the chair across from Tom.  He looks older.  Like he had aged 5 years since that one dark night in mid-May.  He had a bit of a beard, and dark circles beneath his eyes.  Although he looked tired, his smile was still bright and child like.  "How are you?"

"I- um," he glances quickly down at his coffee, "I'm alright."  Tom isn't a very good liar "You?"  Then again, neither am you.

"Surviving," you look up as a waitress comes by,  "A cappuccino please."  The waitress smiles and walks back over to the counter where she begins making your coffee.  A silence fills the air between you and Tom.  

"So," Tom voice lowers, "I guess the reason I asked you to meet me was so I could say that I am sorry."  

Sorry

The blow hits you hard.  You shut your eyes not allowing yourself to cry.

"Please don't-"

"No, I need to say this!" His eyes widen with determination.  "I'm sorry that I was stupid, and inconsiderate, and unreliable, and- and I sorry, I'm just so sorry."

"Tom-."  Your coffee is placed in front of you.

"Y/n if there is any possible way you would even consider giving me another chance, I'll do anything-."

"STOP!!"  You stand up quickly as every eye in the cafe looks toward you.  "Just stop."  Your eyes are brimmed with tears.  You storm away from Tom and out the door.  It's a chilly November afternoon.  Soft, glittering snowflakes float down onto the sidewalk.  You can't believe that you honestly thought that meeting with Tom would be good for you.  That it would bring you closure.  But now here you are, back at square one.  You nestle your face down into your jacket collar.  God how could you have been so stupid.  At this point all you want to do is go home and forget that you had even left your safe mountain of blankets on the couch.