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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"I do, Y/N! I do want you. I just, while I was in L.A., I started thinking about us. Started thinking about how resistant you are to everything. Resistant to get involved, to get serious. I had to make a deal with you so you wouldn't sleep with other people, for fuck's sake!"
"I never wanted to sleep with-"
"That's not the point!" Tom cut you off, shouting. Whoa, he was pissed. You kept quiet and let him have his say.
"The whole time you were so concerned about YOU getting hurt and YOU falling to pieces, did you ever stop to think that I'm the one that would get hurt?" He held his hands up questioningly.
You didn't. You actually never considered that. You were too wrapped up in your own existential farce to even appreciate the romantic gamble he was taking being with you. Talk about self-absorbed, Y/N.
"You stopped talking to me for days," he continued, "I had no idea what the hell was going on and then when you decide to talk, you do. Everything is on your own terms."
He ran both his hands through his drenched hair, his eyes shining at you. They looked mad and passionate and dejected all at the same time. But there was something else too. You could have sworn there were tears.
"You scare me, Y/N. You can take it all away at any moment. You can decide to shut me out again, never speak to me again and where does that leave me? I admit I'm new to this. I've never really had a relationship, let alone a decade-long marriage. And I sure as hell have never been in love before."
Your eyes widened at that last part. He did again. He probably didn't even realize he did it. Poor guy, he looked so exhausted and jet-lagged. He loves me, you thought.
"All I wanted was for you to just meet me halfway," he sighed, running a hand over his face, "and you act like that is asking so much. You're so fucking stubborn and proud that you'd rather walk away than admit you have feelings for me. So, no," he shook his head, "I can't be your boyfriend because I will never know where the hell that leaves me."
He watched you, waiting for you to say something. You stepped closer to him. (He loves me) He took a step back and crossed his arms in front of him, dropping his eyes as if something very interesting caught his attention on the ground. Self-preservation, you thought, I've pulled that trick before.
You stepped even closer, until you could feel the heat of his body. It was so warm and comforting in the cold rain. He deserved so much better, at the very least he deserved to know how you felt.
But you weren't like him. He emoted for a living. You spent the better part of your life, concealing your emotions, running from them. Time you stopped. (He loves me).
You waited until he finally looked at you, then ran a hand over his brow and down the side of his cheek, tracing that gorgeous jawline of his. He brought his hand up to yours and kissed the palm of your hand. You smiled softly.
"You're right about all of it, except for one thing -I'm not going to walk away. Not anymore. Not ever again. I'm all in. All of me, one hundred percent. Do you trust me?" You searched his face but couldn't read it. Please don't let me have lost him, you thought.
And just when you thought maybe you had, he slowly pulled your hoodie down, and cupped your face, drawing you to his lips. Suddenly, the cold and concern melted away, the clouds seemed to part and all you could feel was his lips against yours.
His kiss traveled down your neck and he nuzzled you there, wrapping his strong arms around you in the warmest embrace. You breathed him in then exhaled calmly, your lips against his ear. Together, you stood there, holding each other, heart against heart and hip against hip, until your lips found his again and you kissed him slowly and deliberately, cherishing every stolen breath and taste of his tongue.
He placed his hands on your hips and steadily steered you towards the front door until you were backed against it. You gave a little gasp, then a giggle, which apparently excited him very much.
You blindly rummaged in your purse for your keys while he continued to caress your lips, throat, collarbone with his kisses. His fingers unzipped your hoodie and peeled the wet fabric away from your skin, exposing even more flesh for him to entice. You turned around with your keys to unlock the bolt. His lips were on the nape of your neck now, sending that familiar fire through your body. An arm wrapped around you from behind and his hand made its way up your shirt and over your breast. The other slipped inside your pants. You let out a soft moan then felt his breath in your ear.
