it echoes through

seven; axiom

You couldn't keep your foot from bouncing on the floor of Tom's car–up and down as you waited for the red light to turn green, and for the cars to just get to their destination already. You kept wondering what Skyla Burns wanted, and if she really did own the pub Harry supposedly managed before he got locked up for that same exact reason.

You wondered what would happen when Clarissa and yourself entered her house, if she'd betray your secret even though Clarissa assured you the mobster promised not to tell. You wondered how Harrison would react if he found out you let it happen, or worse, that his soulmate didn't think it was worth mentioning to them. That she was the one who told you to keep it just between you and her. You wanted to see her, to talk to her, to insure you were in fact in the clear and there was no drama to be had tonight–but only Tom was beside you, sitting on your right as his eyes focused on Sam's car in front of you, making sure not to miss a turn as he guided all three cars down Liverpool's roads.

It was unclear to you why Tom insisted you take three separate cars, all five of you could fit in just one. Perhaps he wanted to make a grand entrance, perhaps he thought you weren't all leaving together–perhaps he hoped Harry would be there too, and one car would not suffice for all six of you. But Harrison tried, and even he couldn't get Tom to change his mind once it's been made; you didn't even bother.

The ride was silent, filled only by the dread you two so clearly felt–apparent even without knowing what was riddling Tom's heart. It was clear, from Sam's stories and from the way she held herself–Skyla Burns was not a woman you wanted to cross.

Soon Sam's black car made a left and then a right and then drove down a driveway lined with trees, and you were there. A great big red gate, a mansion more massive than you've ever seen, you decided it had to be a castle. Tom parked the car, with a sigh, and as he took the keys out of the ignition he looked over at you.

"Look," he tried, licking his lips slightly before he went on, "I love you." You didn't say a thing. "And it kills me that I can't feel you anymore, that I don't know if you love me back or if you're scared and if Skyla tries to hurt you or threaten you how am I supposed to protect you without feeling you?"

You felt a weight fall on your chest, as if Tom said something you never dared even dream to hear with your own two ears, finally confessing the truth you have both already come to terms with. You knew Tom was constantly scared for his loved one, you knew he valued you and his family's safety more than anything–but you never thought he would admit it so plainly, without so much as a question from you. You never thought Tom would willingly let you in on his fears and worries.

"Tom, I," you tried, but weren't exactly sure what you wanted to say and how you would say it. Should you have told him about the book, about this conspiracy that maybe he wasn't imagining it–that what happened last year had more severe consequences than the weeks he spent in a wheelchair? Should you tell him all this now, right before walking into the lion's den? "Do you feel anything else?"

His one untamable eyebrow popped up for a second, his lips between his teeth before he said, "what do you mean by that?"

"The tingle, do you still feel someone else?" You pushed.

"I feel you, sometimes, but it's foggy and only when you touch me and even then not always," he ranted, running a hand against his buzzed down hair.

You weren't sure if he understood your question fully, but you took it as hard proof nonetheless. If what the book said was true, and it wasn't just bullshit like you dictated, whoever Tom was meant to feel now–he didn't, and so that would mean you were feeling someone else. But you were sure you felt Tom, you've been feeling foreign emotions all this time. And the book didn't say anything about you being able to feel two people at once. You tried making sense of it in your head–but you simply couldn't. The book must've lied, must've been worded wrong, because Tom could feel an echo of your heart, and you still felt him. You were sure you felt him.