Tom Holland Imagines

Scared Sleepless

D16- Proudest Tom Moment...For me this was Tom getting to be a presenter at the 2018 Oscars. I stayed up all the way through them just so I could see him! I was so proud.

A/N: In a Nadialess A/U just for writing's sake. Most of these probably will be just because it makes it easier to create that way. It's not a stand against her. To read my position on the whole Nadia-Tom thing, please read my previous chapter.

It was one in the morning at the boys' house in Kingston, where you were quarantined with your favorite people on the face of the planet. They'd put you up in the guest bedroom so you could have your own space, and it was so incredibly perfect that you might have moved in, had you not been living in your own little flat at the time. You were happy there, but you were all alone. And since the boys wanted nothing less than for you to go crazy, they invited you to stay with them until the situation subsided.

This was how you ended up in your "bedroom" at one in the morning, scared sleepless.

Emmilia screamed. There, still laying in the four-poster bed, was the stiff, cold body of Mrs. Fairbanks...a common kitchen knife stuck in her chest. Obviously, our heroine had been shocked at the murdering of the poor old woman (the very thing she was there to prevent), but what unsettled her more than this was that nobody but her family had been in the estate that night. And thus, nobody but her family could have done it.

You closed your book, tucking your bookmark about halfway in it to mark your page, and set it down on the bedside table. You looked at the clock. You should have been asleep...it was an early day this morning and you'd need your rest. But shadows kept flicking across the room (due to the wind in the trees outside your open window) and little noises would kickstart your heartbeat every few minutes. These simple things, which would have seemed irrelevant at any other time, were causing you to freak yourself out. What if there's a ghost? What if someone's trying to break in? What if...?

This, my love, was what you got for reading a murder mystery novel before bed and well into the night. You tried to tell yourself that you were being ridiculous, but you'd worked yourself into a frenzy, your wild imagination running away with you. At one point, around 1:30, Haz got up for water. You heard his footsteps passing your room on the way back to his and you snapped. 

Curling up under the sheets, you decided enough was enough. You couldn't be alone. But Tuwaine snored like someone was sawing logs and Haz took up most of the bed. Tom had been tipsy when he'd gone to bed at (9pm/2100h depending on where you live...most of my demographic (according to the Status page) is American, though, so if I veer off my British terms, you know why), but he was your best bet. Besides, you thought, he'd probably slept most of it off already.

Gathering your courage, you swung your feet out of bed, threw open your door, and ran as fast as you could down the hallway, trying not to think too much about the tapping trees or the moving shadows. When you reached the door at the end, you slowly creaked it open. Tom's room was darker than yours. He didn't have his lamp on. Your breath quickened, along with your heart rate.

"T-tom?" you whispered. He let out a soft snore in the silent room, making you jump nearly three feet in the air. Trembling, you shook his rock-solid bicep. He whined a little in his sleep and turned over so that his bare chest was exposed. "Tom?" you asked again, a little louder. You shook him harder, attempting to rouse him from his alcohol-enhanced slumber. Slowly, his eyes opened, widening when they saw you.

"Wha...Y/N? What're you doing here?" He tried to sit up in bed, rubbing his head.

"I can't sleep. Scary book." You stared at your feet and toed the carpet. Some thunder cracked outside. You jumped into the bed next to Tom. He chuckled.

"You can stay here with me, if you like," he told you drowsily. He threw back the covers next to him and motioned for you to come join him. You nodded, then curled yourself up close to him, overwhelmed by the warmth of it all. "Are you okay?" He asked, stroking your hair. You could tell he was sober now, which made the action that much sweeter.

"Yeah."

"Okay. Don't worry, love. I won't let anything happen to you."

Maybe you had to start reading murder mysteries before bed more often...

A/N: Hi, my lovelies! I'm sorry it's been so long. I've been SLAMMED over here. It's crazy how busy you can be in the middle of an international crisis haha. Anyhoo, I love you all and I'll try to update more often. Kisses! 

xoxo LuckyHolland