Chapter 11

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warnings: descriptions of panic attacks, talking about sex, angst, fluff w/ Harrison

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His fingers drew patterns on your hipbones, lips opening up and sighing into your mouth you let him. Exhaustion racked your body and you wanted nothing more than to sleep, okay, maybe you wanted one thing more.

"Tom, I uh, I wanted to uh, sorry, I dunno how to say this, I," you pause looking at him as you sit on your bed, he sits next to you, sliding his hand up your thigh, gently resting against the very top of it while you fumble for your words.

"It's okay," Tom nods, waiting for you to talk.

"I just, I can sometimes get distracted easily, and that's not your fault, not your fault at all, I do it a lot, and, you know when I get really panicky? My panic attacks?"

Tom nods, watching your voice falter.

"Well I uh, used to take meds for them, and it just became too much, like I felt like I was depending on them for everything, so I stopped."

"Okay?"

"And they increased my sex drive, so I would you know, sleep around."

"Nothing wrong with that."

"And I guess, I never really considered how my actions were affecting other people, until one night, I had promised to meet Harrison, but was really late, because, well, I was sleeping with someone. And he got really worried. It wasn't until then that I realized I was completely ignoring my best friend to take care of my stupid fucking primal needs even when I couldn't come."

"Harrison never told me."

"Oh well thank god for that."

"But you're telling me now."

"Yes, I just, I wanted to try to explain why I uh, faked it yesterday. It wasn't because of you, they just made it harder for me to, you know, get there."

"And even though you haven't taken them in how long?"

"Almost a year."

"A year, you still can't come?"

"I guess they dulled my senses, made me feel sorta numb for so long that it's either still wearing off, or I just haven't been able to get into the right headspace again."

"Well have you ever given someone a chance?"

"I gave Ben a chance, and it was, well, disappointing," you sigh as Tom's thumb rubs your thigh, other fingers gently tapping against your skin.

"Was I disappointing?" there was a hint of worry in his voice and you turn your upper body towards him, resting your hands on his chest, pushing back his green and black plaid jacket.

"No, not at all, you still made me feel good, I just couldn't get there."

"Normally doesn't happen," Tom mumbles, his lips running along your neck.

"Well, what about you?" You ask.

"What about me?" Tom breathes out, kissing along your jaw.

"You know all about Ben, any other girls in your life?"

Tom pauses against your jaw, "not anyone right now."

"No girl back at home?"

Tom pushes his head back. Maybe you shouldn't have pushed, maybe you were better off not knowing anything else about Tom.

"Why's it matter?"

"Because you just-,"

"I mean, why would I be here with you if I had a girl at home? Or do you want to know about my past relationships? All the other girls I've fucked? What do you want? To compare lists?"

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