Back to Lottie's POV (I think I'll stick with this bc it feels weird writing as Tom lolol)
I can't sleep. Not in the slightest. It's 4am and I'm not even close to sleeping. Usually, I'd get up and go downstairs or watch something on Netflix but obviously I can't. I can't stay here for a minute longer though. I'm bloody sick of the sheets making me boiling hot and my stupid uncomfortable hotel pillow. I can't stand lying here, eyes wide open, blinking in the dim room.
I'll get up, I decide. Go for a walk, maybe. I sit up slowly, gently pulling the duvet of the double bed back and easing my body out. My feet touch the cold floor and I shiver even in the stuffy warmth of the rest of the room. I wince as the floorboards creek, and Mum turns over in bed, hair still perfect and face still angelic. She doesn't wake up though.
I scribble a note and place it on my pillow, grabbing my jumper, and pulling on a pair of running shorts. Every movement is slow and painstaking; lifting up the key from the hook, slipping on my shoes and edging open the door, holding my breath; being careful not to let the door wake Mum as it clicks shut, shuffling down the threadbare carpet of the corridor, breath held in my lungs and back tensed.
Down the stairs I go, passing 207 - and pausing slightly. I can hear whispers from inside, muffled but still audible. I strain my ears, trying to work out who's talking. It's 4am. Tom's sleep schedule is messed up to the point of not existing. I listen even harder. It is Tom: I can tell from the slight husky edge to the voice, and then a familiar - if stifled - chuckle.
"Shush Noah," I hear. "I'll wake up Mum."
He must be on facetime. My stomach squirms as I remember all over again that this boy really is Tom Abisgold.
"How's Jake's girlfriend?"
I gasp, trying not to giggle. "What's her name again?... oh yeah, Maisy... Typical Jake, he never does shut up about her." He chuckles again. Grinning with the acquisition of this new information, I make to leave but a few words pull me back in. Disbelievingly, my eyes widen and I hold my breath, not wanting to miss a word.
"Oh yeah," Tom whispers, bashfully. "Remember that girl I told you about? I've hung around with her a bit." Pause "Yeah." Pause. "I don't know how she feels." Pause. "I want to say something but..." Pause. "A lot. Really, a lot. I want to get to know her more though." Long pause. "You're right. I'll wait." He laughs, "Thanks mate. Don't tell the others yet though... Yeah... Night."
I hear a phone click off and Tom sighing. I stand, frozen against the wall. Was he talking about- No. Don't do that Charlotte. Don't get your hopes up again. But all the same... My heart feels as though it really is made of air. Laughter of the weird hysterical kind I usually find myself exploding with at inconvenient times rises up in my throat. Mortified, my hand rushes to my face and clamps around my mouth, but it's too late - a snort of laughter escapes my lips. I freeze and the air is filled with pulsating silence. No noise. No noise. Then the creaking of a mattress, the patter of footsteps, and the door is pulled open.
A/N I finally have motivation to do this thanks to Sarah's frequent requests :)
lmk what you think and ty for almost 500 reads :)))
