Some Unholy War // Tom Holland

three

Right before the fight, Harrison came to give Tom a pep talk, which didn't help much. He was sat in his room, wearing the black silk robe Harrison bought him after he won his first fight, and skin-tight, white shorts that left nothing to the imagination. Tom was trying to calm his own nerves down when Harrison and his trainer Chris walked through the door.

"You ready, dude?" Chris asked, rubbing his hands together as Tom took another sip of his water.

"Not really." He said simply, his anxiety for this fight was through the roof, a lot was riding on this fight, even though it wasn't the fight Tom had been training for, there was a lot riding on this fight because there was a slim chance Y/N would be there.

"You've got this, Tom, and if you don't, well, I just hope you do." Harrison said, his phone starting to ring. "Be right back, gotta take this." He said, walking out of the room, leaving Tom with his trainer.

"Listen, Tom, I know you've got this. Go out there and kill it." Chris said, slapping Tom's back twice. Tom nodded his head and took a drink of his water before standing up to make his way to where he would enter the ring.

He ran his tongue over his mouth guard and jumped up and down a little, trying to get warmed up. His bare feet were light as they touched the rough carpet beneath him. He swallowed the lump in his throat as the announcer spoke.

"Entering the ring, just making weight at 143 pounds, the up-and-coming featherweight champion from London, England, Tom "The Hammer" Holland!" The small arena erupted with cheers as Tom walked out toward the caged octagon, searching the crowd for Y/N. He didn't see her, and everything that Tom had hoped to prove during this fight had seemingly gone down the toilet.

He stepped into the caged ring with another man, a little smaller than him, Tom had about two inches on him and at least six pounds, which could make or break him.

The bell rang and the two danced around the ring, people cheering as they got closer, his opponent tried to keep his distance from Tom, he had seen Tom's other fights, he had one helluva reach.

Tom threw a jab to the body and a right jab to the face while his opponent tried to block the assault. The man was studying Tom and the way he fought as Tom continued hitting him with almost perfect combinations, his knuckles starting to ache.

The challenger managed to get a few hits on Tom before Tom grabbed his neck and hammered his head. The referee pulled them away from each other before Tom was able to take him down, saved by the bell. They took their minute rest before they got back to fighting, Tom was still looking around the arena for a sign that she was there, but nothing.

The next two rounds went the same way, his opponent trying to keep his distance, studying Tom's moves, waiting for him to tire out. Tom landed some good hits and the crowd cheered whenever he did. At the end of the third round, Tom sat in his corner out of breath, dehydrated, his sweat mixed with his opponent's blood.

The fourth round started and right out of the gate it was his opponent's round, Tom knew it, he was starting to get tired and he was getting emotional, which was the worst thing to be in this type of fighting.

Halfway through the round, his opponent took him down with a kick to the leg and got on top of him. The man started punching Tom straight in the face, Tom tried to get his opponent off of him, throwing a punch to his face that stunned him long enough for Tom to get up.

Out of breath, Tom tried staying close to the cage, careful not to grab it when he was pressed against it. It was the only place Tom could rest, but his opponent was known for holding against the cage, that's where he got most of his knockouts. Tom's face was stained with blood, his eyebrow and cheek cut open along with his ears that were swollen and beet red.

Tom knew he wouldn't last long in this fight when the fourth round was called, he knew he needed a miracle to pull a win. Chris wiped off the blood and sweat from his forehead as Tom heard a voice from behind the cage.

"T-Tom! You can do it! I believe in you." She said softly, sticking her fingers through the cage links. Tom was hazy but could still make out Y/N's face, it was beautiful as always through the blood and chain link fence.

Y/N had been watching Tom get pounded from her seat for long enough, and when the fourth round was called, she knew Tom needed a pick-me-up. Seeing her was the exact thing Tom needed to catch his second wind.

The fifth round came along and Tom came out of the gate guns blazing. Throwing punches to the head left and right, Tom seemed to not even take one hit. The crowd was cheering at every hit that made contact with Tom's opponent.

There were forty seconds left in the round when Tom threw a side right punch to his opponent's temple, it was all he needed for the man to fall to the floor. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that he was seeing stars. The referee counted him out and Tom walked around the ring in victory.

"And the winner, Tom "The Hammer" Holland!" Yelled the announcer, holding up Tom's hand in victory, and the crowd roared, but the only validation he needed was from the woman sitting behind the cage, a small smile on her face, clapping.

After the fight, back in his room, Y/N walked in as Tom was getting his face cleaned up. She couldn't stop staring at the way his shorts hugged him in all of the right places, how his toned body moved with his shallow breathing, but most of all, how hurt he looked. She took notice of the gauze wrapped around his knuckles and the large square bandages on his cheek and forehead, a bag of ice on his shoulder.

"I knew you could do it." She said simply as Tom looked at her with puffy eyes and a smile.

"Only because you were there." He paused a little, actually looking at her for the first time tonight, she looked even better in regular clothes than her diner uniform. Of course she does, Tom thought, she's actually comfortable. And he was right, Y/N was wearing a pair of grey, pleated, plaid shorts and a white shirt tucked into the shorts, a small black purse in her hands. "Please come and work for me. I could use someone as hardworking as you on my team, plus, I won tonight, because you were here." He smiled at her, wincing at the pain in his shoulder.

"On one condition," she paused and Tom squinted at her with an eyebrow raised, "I don't have to be one of those ring girls." she giggled a little.

"As much as I'd like to see you in an outfit like that, no, you don't have to be one of those ring girls." He laughed and bit his lip a little, thinking about what Y/N would look like in a ring girl outfit, then he pushed the thought to the back of his head because if she wasn't comfortable in something like that, she wouldn't be comfortable with Tom thinking that way about her.

"Fine." She said with a half-smile, pulling out a piece of paper she had already written on. "Let me know when I should start." She had already decided she was going to take the job when she showed up to the fight. When she told her boss that she was leaving early that night, he said, "if you walk out of that door, you're gone." She took her apron off and threw it at him, a newfound strength coming over her in that moment.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, darling." Tom said lowly, making Y/N bite the inside of her cheek, something about Tom made her go crazy, and the feeling was mutual for him. In fact, Tom was certain he found his good luck charm.

Y/N left the arena with a smile on her face, excited to start her day tomorrow seeing Tom. It almost made her forget how much she was dreading walking through the door of her shared apartment that night.