Tom Holland is a Liar: T.H x Reader

Chapter 9

He slept beside me but I didn't touch him. He didn't come close to me either but we shared the sheets that laid on top of us. Us-the word felt unfit for our situation. There was no us there was him and there was I but we never shared anything of us. There was no intimacy during the night, no courage to touch to even speak. 

When morning came Tom woke up first making sure to leave the blankets before Harrison and I awakened. He made breakfast-cereal. If that counts as making breakfast. He didn't wake me up with a kiss or a pat on the shoulder like a boyfriend would because he wasn't that. He was still Tom. The same Tom. 

Once I did wake it seemed I was last to do so, Harrison and Tom already engaged  in conversation at the breakfast table. Shovelling spoonfuls of crisp crunches of cereal washed down with whole milk the two didn't even bother waiting. My eyes shifted to Tom first, tension rested between us yet nothing even happened. I grabbed my bowl and joined them. 

Harrison hovered over his bowl in pain, hungover I'm sure. He could barely open his eyes in the sun when the light flooded his head in an aching pain. He groaned and winced every minute but still interacted in group banter. 

Then I had to go home, but not alone. My car still laid lonely in the driveway awaiting a driver, I hated driving....Tom didn't. He was a horrible driver but I never stopped him from getting in the primary seat. To Harrison the two of us both conveniently  left at the same time. Then Tom conveniently offered to drive me home, after he conveniently remembered I hated driving. 

In the car it was distant between us, I sat pointing out obvious randoms in my head. Tom had two hands on the wheel, the car in front of us had a license plate from Ireland, the interior of the car was grey, the music was too quiet to hear but none of us vowed to turn it higher. Instead we sat pretending we could hear what song was playing. We were silent. He was intimidating. I was a coward.

"What's your favourite colour?" I ask in random. My mind was stupidity just utter scrambled stupidity.

But he answers quick,"orange. Always been orange."

I didn't say anything more, merely thinking of his answer. Did I know that?

"You? Yours is blue but what kind?" he adds,"What's the best looking blue you've seen?"

I knew the exact answer to make him jealous, I said it almost carelessly but I knew myself. I only said it to gage a reaction,"Harrison's eyes," I answer.

He barely even made a face. He didn't even care. "His eyes are quite nice than yeah? Yeah I agree, nice eyes," he mumbles off in fractions of sentences but still he wasn't effected in the slightest. 

My eyes rolled at his response, I just wish I could catch him just once. 

"The blue of the sky earliest in the morning just with the yellow and red tinges, that's the best blue," I had already lied and didn't best him, I'd might as well answer his questions sincerely. 

He nodded. That's all. A nod then there he was back in focus-it was never a him and I. In this moment there was him and the road and I, I as more of an after thought. As an add on something you remember but not anything you'd think of, I was Tom's remembrance but I'll never be his thought.

I could hear the fluttered sigh leave my mouth at our red light, Tom insisted we cut through the highway on the way to my house- unfortunately these roads never seem to pick up in reason. I could feel the car almost grumble in it's lack of movement, a couple steps-break. A couple more-break. I knew it be long to even take off. Tom didn't seem to mind but I was already impatient.

He looks over to my frantic feet, tapping away at the wait of traffic,"It's rush hour," he says carelessly.

"We could've taken the other route," I say muttering under my breath-i said it to undermine him. Even though I hadn't even suggested the idea of taking the rural route I was the one complaining about the trail of cars ahead of us. 

His jaw hardens at my ignorance rather my annoyance to him,"this way's faster," he replies for defence. 

"Well how's the fast track working out right now Tom?" 

A huff of breath he replies,"It would be less noticeable if you weren't complaining about it."

"And you'd be more attractive if you weren't an asshole all the time," I had fired the first shot in a duel not needing to be taken place. I lit the first torch. I called the orders for the nuke and I declared the war. I wanted a fight I fed on it. I wanted to aggravate him for my entertainment as if it would do anything to help me and what he had put me through. 

"Fuck off Y/N, I didn't ask for your opinion"

I mocked him as his anger heightened,"fuck off Tom, I didn't ask for your opinion."

His eyes brows furrow and grips tighten at the wheel. I wanted to him to yell at me but it would need a few more comments. He would hardly lose his temper anymore. 

"You of all people even have the audacity to complain about my attractiveness," he says in a smirk-a laugh perhaps. But not the amused kind or even the genuinely comedic kind, he laughed in seriousness and in mockery. He laughed to further a point. He laughed to further his point against me.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean it doesn't make much sense when you're absolutely floored by me," he replies with every ounce of full achievement to him. He really wasn't shit. 

My grim turned to a scowl at his proposition,"I couldn't care less about your stupid face."

"Alright then, you don't think I'm amazing then," he speaks, he pauses,"I know you're a liar with me y/n."

A grin creeped to my face almost needed to kept down-my muscles working against my head upturning to a cheesy bright cheek and a thin wide smile. How ironic I thought, for him to call me a liar after everything and all he once did he spoke in bitter vowels yet now he dare to accuse myself of his sin.  Still, I wasn't angry not even upset. I smiled, I smiled for him. 

I didn't answer for him yet he waited. He believed he deserved a response, he believed had it owed to him. As was the regular mentality when in conversation though I didn't wish to give what was owed. I chose to rebel against the norms, not in a revolutionary way or even in any way meaningful instead I did it for myself. I didn't prove myself, I didn't argue, I didn't speak.

He grew impatient, his fingers jabbing at the wheel. Tapping in our suspense, he breaks our barrier with his words once more,"You think when you don't speak you can't lie? Is that what you're doing?"

I had to answer, I didn't want him to think I was a liar because to be a non-liar was to be better than him. 

"No. That's not what I'm doing."

"Truth or lie?" he asks.

It was a lie.