HufflepuffHolland's Writing Collection

Something More (Part 4, 5, & 6) // Tom Holland

Word Count: 4800

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"You get prettier every time I see you." Tom bit his lip, suppressing his smile when he saw you roll your eyes. He stepped to the side, letting you walk in. You stopped by the entrance and left your heels by the front door.

"That didn't work in high school, it won't work now." You sighed in comfort when you hit the couch. "I'm so freaking tired."

"Here," Tom said, disappearing into his room. He walked over to his closet and pulled out a sweatshirt and a pair of boxers. "Bought these, a couple sizes bigger. I know you don't like wearing pants, so, these should make up for that."

You smiled, quietly thanking him as you grabbed the clothes and set them next to you on the couch. Your hands reached for the hem of your shirt, lifting it up. You tried to suppress a laugh, you got your shirt off and seeing Tom standing in front of you – his back toward you. "Shy all of a sudden?"

"What?"

"You turned around, so I could change – you've seen me naked. On... more than one occasion. In several destinations."

"Okay, pervert. I get it." He laughed with you, shaking his head. "I don't know... You lifted up your shirt and it felt different."

You didn't say anything, just furrowed your eyebrows and proceeded to pull the new sweatshirt over your head. You pulled down your pencil skirt and pulled his boxers over your legs, plopping back down on the couch. "Done."

He turned around, smiling softly. You looked at him from your position – he was already changed. Grey sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt. The look was simple; basic. Or, at least it would've been, had you seen someone else wearing it. Tom wasn't just anyone. He was never just anyone. You weren't sure he'd ever be just... anyone.

"What did you want to tell me in your office?"

Tom looked at you confused, moving to sit next to you. He reached for the remote. "What are you talking about?"

"Before Brian came in, you were going to say something. You said it was important."

"I didn't say it was important. I said, I'd been meaning to tell you."

You rolled your eyes. "Isn't that the same thing?" Tom's phone rang, saving him from answering your question. He looked down at the caller ID, holding up a finger to give him a minute.

"It's my dad."

You nodded, grabbing the remote as he got up. He walked out of the room, causing you to narrow your eyes – he never did that before. You shrugged it off, maybe it was a family thing. A family company thing. You watched as he went on to his balcony, trying not to think too much about what he might be talking about that you couldn't listen to. You looked back at the TV, turning on an old re-run of American Dad. You heard Tom's muffled voice through the glass, causing you to turn to look at him again.

He looked upset, his hands were tugging at his hair and the hand he held the phone with was shaking. You quickly put the remote down, moving so you could comfort him. You slowly, and quietly, opened the balcony door, walking up behind him.

"God, dad. That's ridiculous – he's your client. Why the fuck do I have to deal with the family?" Tom's voice was strained, the way t always was when he spoke to his dad nowadays. For the past year and a half, the Hollands' biggest client was trying to set his oldest daughter, who was a couple of years older than Tom, up with Tom. "Blind dates are stupid, and I'm not looking for anything serious right now. I'm having fun with the people I'm with."

Your eyebrows pulled in again. People? There was more than just you? You walked backwards, leaving Tom alone on the balcony alone. How stupid, you thought to yourself. You thought for a second, back in Tom's office, he might've – stupid. You shook your head, taking the boxers off and pulling your skirt back on. You kept the sweatshirt on, only because it was a little cold outside. You picked up a pen and wrote down a note for him.