Just Like Her

Chapter 31

[ A/N: *Trigger Warning* This chapter refers to emotional abuse between romantic partners. If you think you or someone you know has experienced or is currently in an abusive relationship, please call your local hotline.  ]

Emma

I tried to keep my eyes focused on the wine I was pouring as Tom stripped down to his boxers. He draped his discarded tux over the back of my desk chair and then plopped himself unceremoniously onto the edge of my bed. I couldn't help but laugh as I handed him his glass.

He ignored it. "What?"

"Nothing," I laughed again but then sighed dramatically when he still wouldn't reach for the glass I held out to him. "Sometimes I just find it funny!"

The corner of Tom's lips began to tug upward, but his brows still furrowed slightly as if stubbornly attempting to hold on to their seriousness. Somewhat begrudgingly, he accepted the glass. "Find what funny?"

I finished pouring my own wine and leaned across him to place the half-filled bottle on my bedside table. I smiled as I felt the warm weight of Tom's hand on my hip and smiled fuller when it remained there after I'd straightened.

He tilted his chin up to look at me expectantly, perhaps not realizing his thumb had begun to make slow, languid movements underneath the hem of my camisole.

"Just that you're... Prince Thomas," I shrugged helplessly. "I know it's silly, but sometimes I still catch myself forgetting. Like when you flop yourself onto my bed," I added as I nudged his leg with my own. "Or make those truly awful puns of yours-"

"My jokes are pun-tastic!"

I let out a mock groan as I allowed my fingers to run through his hair. "It's just funny remembering who you are sometimes, that's all."

"I like that," Tom murmured as he closed his eyes and tilted his chin up farther.

"You've always been a sucker for a good scalp massage," I teased.

His hand on my hip migrated to my lower back and gently pulled me into him so his chin rested just below my ribs. "I meant the forgetting bit, but I am a sucker for... a..."

I smirked glibly as his voice trailed off and his head pressed into my hand. "You like that I forget who you are?"

He caught my wrist with his other hand-I hadn't noticed him placing his wine glass on the table beside the bottle-and brought it to his mouth to kiss. I shuddered at the sensation of his soft lips grazing the sensitive flesh of my wrist. "I like that you forget what my title is," he murmured against my skin. "I like that I'm Just Tom to you."

"You're not just anything," I whispered, the tremor in my voice surprising me.

In one swift movement, Tom pulled me into his lap and safely placed my glass beside his. I couldn't help but laugh as he nuzzled his face into my neck. He suddenly inhaled deeply and the feel of his breath tickled my skin causing me to squirm. His arms tightened around my waist, not too tight yet not in a playful squeeze either...

The air in the room suddenly seemed stuffy. My first instinct was to get up and open the window, but I knew somehow not to move. In a moment's time, it seemed my connection to Tom had become fragile, and I feared with a break in our touch the whole thing could shatter altogether.

"Tom?" I asked after a moment's hesitation.

He pulled away slightly and shook his head, as if to shake off the feeling, not realizing he wasn't the only one affected by it.