i'd rather have holes in my shoes (than be without you)

ii. ➳ quick farewell

❝ I'm all but washed in the tide of her breathing. And it's worth it, it's divine. I have this some of the time. ( ― hozier, cherry wine) ❞

― £ £ £ ✈ ✈ £ £ £ ✈ ✈ £ £ £ ―

In the morning, you promised each other you wouldn't tell anyone what happened, and you'd figure out together what you two could mean to each other. Of course, you knew what he meant to you already–and something told you Tom reciprocated those feelings.

After more than a few extravagant dates and the never ending amount of love the pair of you held for each other, you realised you wanted to be together. Truly be together.

Under different circumstances, you two could've been the happiest, richest couple in England. Aside from maybe Prince Harry. But, your father still held firmly onto his belief that the Holland boy wasn't a match for you, and even the cunning plan the pair of you had to stage a friendship in front of him backfired wildly.

"Y/N, what was going on tonight?" Your father asked sometime last June, seven months after the fact. You and Tom decided it would be smart to talk more in front of people, ease the crowd into the idea you two might be into each other.

"I thought the food wasn't so good," you answered innocently, hoping he wouldn't make a big deal again.

"I meant with the Hollands, I don't appreciate the way he was looking at you," he said with a frown of his lined face.

"How was he looking at me?" You couldn't help but ask, trying your hardest to bite away a blushing smile.

"Like you were made of gold, Y/N," he said harshly. You felt your heart drop to your knees at the comparison–the only other time you heard your father compare a woman to gold was with your mother.

"Is that a bad thing?" You challenged.

It took a whole week for your father to speak to you after your little question–and when he did, he demanded you never talk to Tom again. You tried arguing, thought of anything you could say to him but nothing worked, what could you possibly give to a man who had everything and made sure you did too? So of course you promised him you wouldn't talk to Tom anymore, not after Tom decided to invest in Bentleys of all things.

He thought the models were the best in the lineup, and he was right, but your father saw the investment as competition, as a means for a threat–and the more you tried to convince him of the ludicrosity behind this idea the more likely you were to expose your secret and in turn make your father's biggest nightmare into his reality. You couldn't do that to him.

That was the last time you tried easing your father into the idea of you and your boyfriend–knowing he would never approve of your relationship, no matter how much you truly cared for each other.

In the two years since that night at the hotel, you came to care for Tom in a way you never cared for anyone else. Tom loved you, and understood you, and held your hand through tough times and applauded you through good times and made you laugh through the boring times and right now you couldn't imagine your life without him. Nor did you want to–Tom was everything you didn't know was missing from your luxurious life, and now that you had it–like most things–you just needed more and more of it.

So you snuck out to see him whenever you could, and you flew away together at the first sight of distress (you had a shared tendency to run away from your problems) and the day you moved out of your father's house Tom came over to spend the night.