Tom Holland & Peter Parker Imagines & Preferences (book 2)

Without a word

The permanent anger seemed to make Tom almost physically unbearable to himself. How could he let himself get to this point? If he had stopped to think for a second, he knew he wouldn't be feeling so horrible. Guilt like this was a first for him and there was nothing that he thought would make the gut-wrenching feeling go away.

The phrase 'actions have consequences' never meant a single thing to Tom. It was something that was said by his parents and teachers, nothing more. He never let himself understand it and he never found himself in a situation in which he had to reflect his actions so severely. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized it had always been applicable to everything he did.

When he auditioned for the role of Spider-Man, it came along with responsibility and the need to constantly be a good role model for the children who can't tell the difference between an actor and his role. When he had befriended Zendaya, it had come along with rumors that never seemed to leave them alone (but, they were able to laugh about it rather than to take offense). When he had broken up with his first girlfriend, it led to him learning about himself and meeting new people who would be able to make him feel just as complete.

This was no different. Well, the consequences seemed to be far worse than any of the examples given, he thought. It wasn't that he'd lose a few followers on Instagram or that he'd catch a cold, it was that he'd lose the one person he'd come to love endlessly.

There were no excuses for what he'd done. And Tom didn't expect forgiveness and didn't even want to ask for it. Because he knew that he didn't deserve a second chance after this. And it was worse than he had kept it a secret for so long; he knew that had only added to his mistakes. It was unfortunate that he didn't have a time machine because if it were possible, he would have taken it all back. Thinking about it now made Tom's face scorch.

So, when he stepped into the kitchen and saw you quietly singing to yourself as you chopped at an onion, he refrained from stepping into you and wrapping his arms around your waist. Instead, he just stood back, frowning as he tried to think of a way to tell you what he had done. It took him a month, but he had finally made the decision to come clean.

"I've done something that-that I shouldn't have done." Tom's voice wavered, a painful lump growing in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing back tears before they even formed. Tom watched you whip around suddenly, jumping and letting a gasp tumble out of his lips.

Your eyebrows were furrowed and you took the few steps towards him, worried after hearing the tone of his voice. "What did you do?"

Tom shook his head, pulling you into him shakily. He doubted you would want to be anywhere near him once he told you the truth but he wanted to savor your touch and affection for as long as he could.

"When I was filming for-" Tom stopped himself short, sighing and leaning against you as if he needed support so that he wouldn't collapse. Suddenly, he was having second thoughts. "Nevermind. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

He took a deep breath, the both of you giving him a minute to get himself back up. "I don't know how to tell you. I don't know what to say."

"You have to tell me what you did, Tom," you told him softly, pushing the butterflies in your stomach to the side. "I don't know what you're talking about. How can I help you if you won't tell me?"

The look that he gave you almost made you sink to your knees. It was filled with pain and guilt, sorrow and despair. Somehow, it was like you could feel what he was feeling simply by looking into his eyes. Tom's eyes were watery, you noticed, he was crying.

His chest felt as if it were closing in on itself and constricting around his heart. Tom couldn't get a full sentence out. "I slept-I slept with another-I'm sorry."

Tom didn't need to say any more than that. He could see it on your face. The betrayal, the hurt, the broken trust. All of it. And it made him feel as if he were going to be sick.

You didn't realize you were holding your breath. Refusing to meet his eyes, you stepped away from him without uttering a word. With a clenched jaw and wavering lips, you took another few steps away. It was like he had taken a dagger and plunged it right into your heart, the ache sharp and prolonged. As if each breath you took was irritating the wound that bled out mistrust and heartbreak.

You heard Tom let out a whimper as his hands fell to his sides. You shook your head at him, looking at him incredulously. Cheating was something you were certain Tom would never do. You didn't think he was capable nor did you think he would be able to do something he knew would hurt you so much. But he did.

"Is this a prank or something? A joke?"

Tom's frown intensified and he forced himself to control his breathing. "No. It's the truth."

That was all the confirmation you needed. Tom wasn't one to lie and with whatever little trust you had left for him, you believed that he was telling the truth. You believed that he had gone behind your back and slept with someone who wasn't you, giving them the intimacy that he had promised to you and only you.

The silence was thick and Tom was sure he could taste the tension in the air. He didn't bother saying sorry any more than he already had, knowing that it would be of no use. There wasn't much else that he could do to state his case and ask for forgiveness so he didn't waste his breath. But he waited, still wanting to explain himself and reassure you that he didn't and doesn't care for anyone else the way that he cares for you.

A tear slipped from your eye, soon accompanied by another and then more. It didn't seem real. Not to you and not to Tom. There was mutual disbelief shared between the two of you. Tom couldn't believe he had cheated and neither could you. But this wasn't a nightmare and this wasn't anything other than reality.

Wordlessly, you turned your back to Tom, wiping at the underside of your eyes with the back of your hand. Silently, you finished putting the food on his plate but left your own empty. The sick feeling in your stomach had killed your appetite. He watched painfully as you placed the plate you had prepared with so much love down on the counter beside him, sniffling softly. All the while, your eyes did not meet his and the pained whimpers that you failed to keep hidden were like gunshots that sent bullets piercing into his skin.

What hurt Tom the most was that you didn't say a single thing to him. You didn't scream at him, you didn't sob and you didn't utter a single word to him. You didn't tell him how bad he had hurt you and you didn't tell him that he would be okay. You didn't tell him that you would be okay.

Tom collapsed, sliding to the ground as he watched your feet carry you out of the kitchen. He didn't hold back his tears as he heard you shuffle around in the bedroom and he let his guilt and self-disappointment eat at him. The sound of the front slamming made him feel as if he were about to vomit. But he made no attempt at moving.

Without a word, you were gone. And all at once, Tom was alone.