it echoes through

eleven; nuclear fallout

"Tom, fucking let me go!" Harrison said, after the door closed behind his fiance–and his blue eyes connected with the ring now on the floor, battered and destroyed. Harrison remembered spending weeks picking it out, planning the perfect way to propose to her, and now, the ring stood atop the carpet vividly–a sight he was sure would stay in his mind forever.

Harrison fought against Tom's forearm, tried pushing him away–but Tom was strong, he spent the past weeks getting stronger and stronger while Harrison spent his days jumping between Clarissa and Y/N, and now–he was no match for Tom anymore.

"I'll let you go when you tell me what the fuck I just saw!" He yelled in his face. Harrison couldn't care less about what just happened and about what he did, the only thing he could think about were the feelings tingling against his heart–the cold of the night, the way her heart burned, and an unfamiliar feeling of guilt that tingled too. He looked behind Tom's shoulder–Harrison used the few extra inches he towered over Tom to look at you on the bed, sitting with tears in your eyes. Harrison was certain now that he could feel you, too.

He didn't understand it, nor did he want to–all he wanted at that moment was to run after Clarissa and fix it. Stop her. Take the last twenty minutes of his life back and erase them.

"Tom," you said, causing him to look over at you in surprise, "let him go after her."

"Fine," Tom said, pushing his hand deeper against Harrison's collarbone, "then you fucking explain it."

You took in a deep breath as you collected your thoughts, replayed the events that just took place in your head. What were you to say? That you couldn't feel him anymore, that you felt his best friend instead? "We got carried away," was all you managed, voice rough as you tried ignoring the pressure in your chest Tom's hand caused. You knew he was hurting Harrison, in turn hurting Clarissa and yourself–but you knew you deserved it more than the pair of them combined, you knew you were the one that caused it and you were certain you were the one who leaned into the kiss to begin with. All of this mess was your fault, and Tom should've been punching you, hurting you. Instead, he landed his fist on Harrison's jaw.

"Fuck, man," he groaned out, as his head snapped to the side from the proximity they were in–causing the punch to echo through you much stronger than you expected it. You were used to getting hit, far too used to it, but even that caught you by surprise–and you let out a similar groan in response.

At the sound of your pain, Tom froze. His fist was already in the air again, readying itself to connect with Harrison's skin for the second time–but your reaction made him stop altogether, and take three steps back from his best friend.

"Y/N?" He whimpered, turning his body fully to you, "did you feel that punch?"

Silently, you shook your head in confirmation–the small movement causing you an intense amount of pain–as you connected your eyes with Tom's chocolate ones and saw the pain reflected in them. He was good at hiding his feelings, and you couldn't feel any hint of a tingle anymore–but the shock in his eyes, and the small gasp that left him, and the pain so clear in the way his one messy brow frowned; you knew Clarissa's wasn't the only heart you managed to break tonight.

"Go after her," Tom mumbled at Harrison, waiting as he rushed to get his phone off the night stand and run out of the room–not caring about anything but finding her. As the door closed for a second time that night, Tom backed himself into the wall–let his eyes scan the ceiling, you reckoned for strength, before he slid down it quietly and brought his hands onto his knees, his head slouched towards the floor.

After three whole minutes of silence he looked up, his cheeks already stained with tears, his eyes red, his lips caught between his teeth. "Are you–," he tried, but was stopped when a small sob left him. He looked away from you, let a few more tears fall from his eyes before he shook his head and went back to examining the floor. You weren't sure what you were supposed to say to him. "Since when?" He finally managed.