Miss Matched // Thomas Sangster Fanfiction

Chapter Twenty-Three - The Sad Thing

Thomas couldn't help feeling the stab of jealousy when he saw Fleur walk in, arm in arm with Nash. Especially when she looked like that. She was nothing short of radiant. With her golden hair gleaming down her back and shoulders, and the dress that fit her so perfectly, it was almost as if the designer had known she would be wearing it.

She looked pale, though. Well, paler than normal. And in general, she didn't look too pleased to be here. Maybe she wasn't having a good time with Nash, after all. That would be excellent. Silently, Thomas hoped that Fleur had an awful time with Nash and never spoke to him again.

Dylan taps Thomas's shoulder, "I'm going to try and find someone to dance with. Are you going to dance or just stand on the wall all evening?"

Thomas glances over at Dylan momentarily, "I think I'll just stay by the wall, thanks. I'm not much of a dancer."

Following Thomas's gaze and spotting Fleur, Dylan mutters knowingly, "What you're trying to say is that you aren't much of a dancer without Fleur."

"Hmm."

"Ask her to Prom next time. Problem solved."

"She wouldn't say yes," Thomas frowns.

Clicking his tongue, Dylan scolds, "Well, she'll definitely never say yes if you don't ask her."

"Whatever," Thomas shrugs, still sulking. "Go find someone else to dance with."

Standing in the corner, Thomas keeps his eyes on Fleur the entire time. He watches as Nash returns with a drink for her and she takes a sip. Something is obviously wrong though. With furrowed eyebrows, Thomas observes the conversation become more heated. He wished that he could hear what they were saying. But, the music is so loud in here that even if he were a few feet away from them, it would be a struggle to overhear them.

His concern escalates when Fleur starts running away. He steps through the crowd, trying to see where she is going. For a moment, he loses sight of her, but then he sees her bent over a huge rubbish bin, clearly retching and trying not to get anything on her dress. Shocked, he looks over at Nash, who has his nose screwed up in disgust. Other students around her step away, looking equally sickened.

Anger swells in Thomas as he strides over, shoving past Nash and right over to Fleur. Without a second thought, he scoops her hair out of her face, and places his other hand on the small of her back, trying to brace her.

Glaring at Nash, he yells, "Why aren't you over here helping your date, you bloody wanker!"

Nash doesn't say anything. He just shakes his head, looking repulsed and queasy himself now. Turning on his heel, he speeds off into the crowd and out of sight.

Thomas rolls his eyes, growling under his breath slightly before he turns his full attention back to Fleur, who is still spitting into the rubbish bin. He rubs her back, cringing a little at the smell, but muttering, "It's all right. Let me know when you're done, and I'll get you a napkin."

Finally, Fleur takes a shuddering breath and says in a voice that is barely audible, "I think I'm good now."

"Do you want a napkin to wipe your mouth with? Or water? Or...well, anything really?" Thomas asks, concern clear on his face.

"Water?" Fleur asks, looking up at him. Her makeup is running, and she's still breathing very heavily.

Thomas nods, answering, "Of course. Stay right here, just in case."

A minute later, Thomas has retrieved a cold glass of water and is briskly making his way back over to Fleur. She doesn't say anything as she takes it from him. She takes small sips, avoiding eye contact, clearly embarrassed.