𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 - 𝑡. ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑑

𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑢𝑥

⁂☽ chapter fifty-two ☽⁂

CALLIOPE WAS IN THE KITCHEN LOOKING FOR SOMETHING TO DRINK WHEN SHE HEARD TOM OPEN UP HIS BEDROOM DOOR, WALKING INTO THE KITCHEN WITH TESSA FOLLOWING BEHIND.

She always found herself at the boys' apartment during their off days from filming, Tom was always the best host, and his home always felt comfortable and safe for Calliope. 

She watched Tom walk towards the counter, he was wearing gray sweatpants while a white T-shirt on. He was holding a glass in his hand. He smiled at the girl peeking in his fridge before he placed the glass on the edge of the counter. 

Much to his dismay, the glass went tumbling towards the floor, no match for Tom's 'supposed' quick reflexes. Before he realized, the glass burst into a million pieces on the tiled floor, startling everyone in the kitchen. 

Calliope let out a pained scream, a piece of glass flying into her ankle, cutting her soft skin almost instantly. Tom watched as she hopped on her foot in pain, watching as the blood seeped out of her wound. 

"Shit! Calliope I'm so sorry," He apologized profusely. He maneuvered around the mess, watching out for pieces of glass, picking up the girl with ease and placed her on the counter. She winced as he took her foot in his hand, trying to examine the cut. 

"It doesn't look too bad, here I'll fix it," He said, looking around the kitchen for some sort of first aid in the kitchen. Calliope held her foot slightly, watching droplets of blood fell onto the tiled floor, making her grimace. 

"It's okay, I just need a bandaid or something," She tried to ease Tom's frantic nerves. It was an accident, it pained her to see him stress over something that was an accident. And frankly, she didn't know how good Tom was at bandaging wounds, knowing his very clumsy nature. 

Tom ignored her, opening the cabinets and looking dejectedly at the lack of first aid. How the hell was he supposed to help her, when he and Harrison had no kind of first aid in their whole apartment. He kept looking and soon he found a couple of bandages, tha was better than nothing. 

He looked at the bottle of Vodka that was sitting beside the bandaids before shrugging his shoulders, grabbing the bottle and a couple of clean rags. 

"You know Tom it doesn't even hurt anymore," she said, watching as he returned to where she was sitting on the counter. Tom gave her a lazy grin, the corners of his mouth curving in a very attractive way. He teetered around the shattered glass (much better than Calliope had) and finished gathering what he needed.

"I couldn't find any disinfectant so I hope this vodka works," he said, popping the cap off. Calliope watched with wide eyes watching as the cap flew onto the counter, looking back at Tom with a crazed look. 

"Woah woah woah," Callie said, holding her hands out to keep Tom away. She scooted away from him. "You're not actually thinking about using that,"

Tom rolled his eyes before replying sarcastically, "I'm not thinking about it."

Calliope furrowed her brows. "What do you-"

Before she could finish her question, Tom had firmly grabbed her ankle and dumped a good amount of alcohol on the gash. Calliope hissed as the liquid burned the area around her cut and tried to kick Tom's hand away from her. "You're such an asshole. There was definitely a nicer way to do that!"

"And let you chicken out? Hell no I need you alive,"

"Okay, doctor Holland," she grumbled, feeling the pain in her foot cease ever so slightly. Once again, she failed to notice as Tom wetted the towel with vodka and continued to clean her wound. She tried to recoil her foot away from the actor, but Tom held on tightly. "You're such a piece of shit, Tom." she cursed letting her head fall back in pain.

"You and I both know you don't mean that,"

Her foot felt like it was on fire and she could feel the alcohol seeping through her foot and cleansing her wound. This went on for about two minutes before Tom quickly bandaged her foot up, placing the bloody towel on the countertop beside Calliope's thighs.

"Are you done complaining now?" Tom smirked, watching Calliope examine Tom's handiwork. She looked up when she felt him watching her and smiled softly, her foot still aching from the trauma.

"You could work on your bedside manner," she suggested, making the two giggle with each other. Calliope then noticed how close they had gotten. Tom was tucked between her legs as she sat on the kitchen counter. His hands were gripping the edge of the counter near either of her thighs and he was leaning in. 

Her breath hitched as she watched Tom's eyes bore into her own. She cleared her throat before her eyes darted towards the floor. Tom coughed awkwardly before stepping back from the girl, casting his attention on the mess of the floor. 

"We should clean that up." 

_