Drunk On Tragic Endings [Tom Holland Fanfic/Imagine]

Chapter Ten- Denial

<Warning: Extremely dramatic>
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"What the hell Tom? You're right, you don't know. He does love me and I love him!" I practically shouted at him, though feeling guilty after.

"You have this twisted mindset about love! You're blinded by the single thought that he loves you, and would do anything for you. But it's just not true, when has he proven that to you? He doesn't love you, he's just using you, your money and your apartment! You told me that when you love someone you put up with their shit and deal with their arrogance and ignorance. But does he do the same for you?"

"I-"

I knew he was right, but I didn't want to think that way.
Steven loved me.
Right?

"He-"

"He's not right for you," He interrupted, finishing my sentence for me.

"You have no right to say that! You've done nothing but-"

He placed his hands on my rosy cheeks and crashed his lips into mine, my face going red and my eyes going wide before I wrapped my arms softly around his neck and kissed him back. He wrapped his arms around my waist and we broke apart, staring into each others eyes.

"Nothing but what?"

I didn't know what to say.
I pushed him off and looked to the side.

"I-I have a boyfriend who I very much love."

"You kissed back."

"Yeah, w-well-!" I started, before realizing that he was right.

He lifted my chin up softly with his pointer finger, making me look into his lovely eyes.
Tom smoothly pulled me into a kiss once again, my hand on his chest, ready to push him away.
Instead, I moved my hand up to his cheek, running my hand through his soft hair before breaking the kiss.

I bit my bottom lip.

"This isn't right."

"But it is, darling," He said softly, his hand sliding down my arm to hold my hand. "Please, just.. stay with me."

"Tom.." I looked down, biting my bottom lip.

"Are you really going to stay with him?"

I pulled my hand out of his, and as it fell to my side, he looked down. I didn't say anything, but he took that as my answer. With a pained smile and a small nod, he turned and slowly walked back.
I watched him walk away, my fingers softly brushing my lips.

'What did I do..?'

The rest of the day went by as if nothing ever happened; except it was awkward when I had to talk to Tom. I drove back to the apartment that night, a bit later than usual.

"Hey love.. Listen, can we talk?" I said, shutting the door softly behind me, my voice quiet as I walked over to the couch.

"Yeah sure. What happened?" His tone of voice seemed uninterested and annoyed.

"You remember Tom?"

His mood immediately changed, and he looked over at me.

"That dickhead at the coffee shop I told you to stop hanging out with? Yeah, I remember him."

I sighed and shook my head slightly, playing with my necklace nervously. I suddenly got a bad feeling, and it almost made me sick.

"Well.. He kissed me.." I mumbled, almost inaudibly. I avoided his angry stare, as he stood up.

"HE DID WHAT?"

"w-we kissed.. I'm really sorry.."

"SORRY DOESNT CUT IT, EMMA."

"Then what will? Hm? Are you going to hit me like every other time and then just assume we will have make-up sex and forget it all? YOU'VE TREATED ME LIKE SHIT, STEVEN," I snapped.

"What the fuck do you think you're saying?! Are you kidding me?! I TREAT YOU LIKE A FUCKING PRINCESS! I cook and clean and pay for the apartment and buy groceries while you're just LIVING HERE, and you say-"

I can't hold it back any longer. I stand up quickly and slap him across his right cheek.
All the lies, bullshit and ignorance he's shown me have all added up into that one moment.

Fuming with rage, he grabs my already weak wrist and twists it as hard as he can as I start sobbing uncontrollably.

As soon as a cracking sound is heard, he lets go as I yell out in pain.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" I scream through the tears. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY APARTMENT!"

He forces me down on the ground and kicks me once in the stomach, before storming out of the apartment.

I lay there for what feels like an eternity, sobbing.
My tears soak through the rug below me as I hold my wrist in pain.

Shaking like crazy, I grab my phone off the coffee table and dial a number, trying to control myself.
It doesn't work. As soon as they pick up, I'm already sobbing again.

"Em-Emma?"

"Tom, please come over."