Tom Holland is a Liar: T.H x Reader

Chapter 6

My biggest secret was playing in front of my eyes at the moment, I truly owned every single one of Tom's films. All of them-even the bad ones. I turned to it in an addiction, I wished I had an addict in anything else. All seeing him made me feel was defeat, I was better than him. I have to recognize that. I had never been in love with him, but that didn't mean he meant nothing to me. He meant something to me though that value was undecided, on certain days he meant piles and piles yet on other days he didn't mean more than a grain of salt. Today he meant undecided,  I wasn't sure whether I wanted to admit to him meaning a lot this morning or to keep his meaning a secret from myself. To instead convince my own head he was nothing to me but even on a bad day I knew that was never true. Today wasn't a bad day. It was mediocre sure but not bad nevertheless it was gloomy. The sky laid plain, cloudy almost miserable. Luckily I loved the rain especially the sounds of the steadying droplets landing in puddles or how the water would splatter on the windows. I liked to believe it meant the world stayed still just for a couple minutes,  after all everything went by so slow during rainfall. I liked the idea of slow. 

At noon I had pulled myself outside with an umbrella, a navy coloured one. My favourite colour although it may be pretty basic I was always drawn towards it, a man always looked best in the darkest of blues. 

I decided to walk to the city, I lived in a townhouse not too far north of London. My parents saved for years to even afford it, I often took that for granted. I often still do. In the city the people were much more wealthier than I was, more expensive and more sharp. They wore suits and skirts for business women, even the tourists managed to look extravagant in the city. I didn't bother to dress up, I never did. I wanted to-look better, I wanted to look pretty but I suppose I never knew how. 

Walking through these busy streets is intimidating, I pray that no one even looks at me. Wishing I could never be noticed it always felt easier that way. I didn't want anyone to see me yet I always had a hankering for a plan of affection. I think I am a creative person, I often day dream scenarios, ploys that would never happen.I romanticized my walks, as I stepped into the shoe box book store I imagined a mysterious boy caught between the aisles. Maybe reading some sort of classic I've never heard of, he was never really there. But I pretend he is, when I scan through the shelves of titles I always wandered towards the newest sellers, embarrassingly enough I had never known much books. Yet in my head I thought of the introverted stranger, tall and handsome and way out of my league. He was into me and I was of course already in love with him. 

Instead, I was alone-an empty aisle and an empty store. I knew the owner by name, he doesn't get many customers and I can talk nice with him. He understands my vision, he plays into it. He always lets me be alone in the store as if he too were waiting for some boy to come up to me. 

I picked a paperback off the shelf flicking through it's worn pages-the bell rang. The store bell chimes in a melodic rhythm, my mind shifted fast like a group of gears in motion I went fast to think of who this customer may be. I let my eyes shift to the door, he was a man. Average height, athletic build, nice smile. He wore dark clothes and shades to cover his eyes even indoor-i thought that was obnoxious of him. Even a baseball cap to cover the top of his face, he kept his head low. His clothes covered his body, the most amount of skin I could see were his hands. 

I don't think he noticed me. I kept with my book in my aisle trying not to bring any sort of attention towards myself I didn't even step to walk around to even catch a glimpse more of the stranger.  I heard footsteps towards my aisle-fast walker. Unsteady and unbalanced, he was clumsy. In the corner of my eye I see his shadow come towards mine. He's coming to my aisle. I had to look. I regret that look, I fell in love with him now. He held a copy of some 60's southern read, I knew that because I purchased it last week. I begged he'd ask me about it but I knew I'd be frightened to speak any opinion on it. 

"Looks like I found you darling," he says lowly in almost a hum-then there I cursed my big stupidity. In all of bloody London Tom had to have found my special place. 

A couple swears fell off my tongue,"Thomas, I didn't recognize you."

"That's the sort of the idea," his breath falls on my neck and I know he's behind me, I know he's close, very close. I couldn't let myself turn around,"You know no one calls me Thomas," he adds.

"I do," I respond ever so monotone.

I can feel his smile icing my skull,"No you don't."

"What would you rather me say? Tommy?"

He breath hitches, this time I knew I was better than him. 

I finally gain the confidence to face him, I looked square in the eyes without even a little bit of doubt,"Goodbye Tommy."

I turned to leave but he wouldn't let me, his fingers traced the back of my hand. He didn't pulls me back though he just held my hand for a few seconds and I knew he had to have done it on purpose. I was already tired of him. I chose to ignore his touch but he didn't let go, I ended up pulling him with me to the cash register. Improv, it's what he was good at-this is just one big improv sketch. 

I placed my book on the counter and the store owner gave the eye, if only he knew this was the exact opposite of the fantasies I pictured. 

"11.87," the store owner says as I go to fiddle for my wallet Tom already taps his card. 

"It's on me darling," he says. All I was doing was humouring him. It didn't matter it was still his money I was spending. 

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the book from the counter,"You fucking wanker," I riddle.

He only smiles at the cashier and proceeds to trail me outside of the store. I let go of his hand but his smile never stopped. It was menacing but not evil just annoying. 

"You're not going to thank me," he says, the audacity he has I think.

"I never asked you to pay"

"And I did it out of the goodness of my heart," he replies sarcastic dimwitted sort of way. 

"Your hearts rotten Thomas"