So maybe your life is in shambles and you run away to London to get your head straight. Sure, you don't really have a plan but the Universe does, and before you know it, some kid from Kingston has completely turned your world upside and your body i...
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You felt like you'd been punched in the gut. Tom wouldn't even look at you, instead choosing to stare at his script, not even reading it, just avoiding your eyes. His ears had grown red, as red as your own face.
You searched for something to say, some joke, some crack - maybe he was putting you on. But you knew he wasn't. Suddenly, he didn't want you. This whole time, you thought he was a sure thing. He pursued you after all! He persisted and followed and wouldn't take "no" for an answer. And now? Now it's not a good idea? So stupid, Y/N. You and your goddamn ego. Now you've lost him.
You stood up quickly, your chair falling over and making a loud clack as it hit the tiled floor. Tom looked up, startled, and opened his mouth to say something.
"Gotta go," you mumbled, barely audible, and bolted for the door. There she is, the old Y/N we remember, running away like nothing's changed. You heard Tom mutter, "Fuck" as you flew out of the restaurant. He called after you, but you didn't stop.
The sky opened up and started raining as you made your way home. Raindrops will hide my teardrops, you thought of the old Temptations song. You pulled your hoodie over your head and cursed yourself.
"Stupid, fucking..."
"Y/N!" you heard Tom calling your name, his footsteps getting closer. You walked faster, hugging yourself. The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. You kept your eyes on the sidewalk, your vision blurry. Were you sobbing? Jesus, you really were sobbing. Get a hold of yourself and just keep walking, Y/N.
Tom grabbed your elbow, "Y/N, would you stop?!"
You spun around and he backed away quickly, holding his hands up defensively. No more Jason Bourne moves for him. He was a quick learner.
"I'm not doing this with you right now," you shouted. The rain started pounding the pavement, drowning out your voices.
"I'm not going to stand in the rain and have some Hugh Grant moment with you! This is not a movie, Tom! This is my life!" Your hands were fists. You glared at him, infuriated. All the insecurities and uncertainties came bubbling to the service, manifesting themselves in anger.
You knew better, Y/N. You knew getting involved with some kid was doomed from the start.
You turned around but he grabbed you again.
"It's my life too!" Tom shouted, not backing down. You had to give him that. He wasn't one to back down "I'm sorry, Y/N, please listen to me."
"I'm going home!" you shouted again. The rain was almost deafening.
"Then I'm coming with you!" His hair was soaked and stuck to his forward and temples. His eyes pleaded with those sad puppy dog eyes that got him everything he ever wanted, probably his whole life.
You wrenched your arm away and turned from him, shaking your head. You were incensed. You felt duped. And of course, the angry tears easily sprung to join the heartbroken ones.
You marched the rest of the way home, Tom trailing you like some bodyguard. You jogged up the steps until you were under the awning and wiped your face with you sleeve . He came up behind you.
"Y/N, please hear me out," Tom begged, "I know I could have handled that better."
You sniffed, wiped your nose and turned around to look at him. You probably looked like shit, but he was being a shit, so even Stevens.
"I thought...," you started, trying to find your words. Brain, work please. Your heart was doing all the work at the moment.
"I thought you wanted...this, wanted more," you wiped your eyes again, "wanted me."
You couldn't look at him anymore. The whole thing was so humiliating. You just wanted to go inside, crawl into bed and forget about Tom Holland. Forget any of this happened. Forget you thought you could give love another try.
