Tom Holland is a Liar: T.H x Reader

Chapter 10

The radio hummed in a distance, it felt that way yet it was only a couple centimetres from my finger tips. It was static yet clear, soft but loud, it was pop and rock and everything in between. Yet I heard none of it. My head was pounding, aching but I wasn't in any pain or even discomfort. Like this was just a feeling I had. Sad, mad, happy, upset and now aching. But like I said I wasn't in pain. In fact I didn't feel like I was in anything at all, I was the guest in my own home, I was the passenger in my own car. Literally.

Tom stopped speaking. I wanted him to. His voice caused me stress.His presence caused me stress.

I thought about him for so long-our reconnection. This was our reconnection, I imagined it like a dashing movie. Where the leads were hot and the set pieces were hot and everything was hot. But we're in my shitty car, driving just below the speed limit in awkward silence. Yet for some reason the fanatical version of me wants to stop the car and let him take me.

The words were on my tongue but I was a mime with my voice. There was no air in my lungs or even a conscious through my letters so I stayed quiet.

We came to a stop at another light. He gripped the wheel, his other hand firmly around the stick. I couldn't stay quiet. I couldn't resist. I couldn't spare my pride not even my dignity. I couldn't learn from my mistakes.

"Tom can we pull over?" I mutter barely over a whisper.

He nods and we turn to the side of the road. I felt so sick, so full. Full of shit I'm sure.

He hums in regard,"you alright?" he asks. That was enough to make me believe he was sincere.

I looked up from my shaking hands into his smoking brown eyes, he wasn't at all worried but concerned for me, yes I suppose.

"You know I think you're a dickhead right?" I thought this was my way of being clever, insulting but letting the insults be empty. He only nods at my question and I took that as an answer to go on.

I sigh,"so I don't really mean anything I'm about to say," I clarify once more,"so if I choose to speak what I want to say, you'll know I'm lying right?"

"If you need me to know you're lying why even tell me?" He asks.

"Because for this short term of time I want you to think I'm telling the truth"

His eyebrows furrow and I know a joke or two tugs at his teeth but still he doesn't dispute my tyranny.

I add more words in the hope of escaping his judgement,"I really want you to kiss me right now," my voice was a whisper. Even when I try to commit to confidence I keep a defence in quiet.

He doesn't even think.

He swiftly unbuckles his seat belt and leaned in without a word. His hands gone to cup the sides of my cheek, slowly I let my eyes close as he lets his lips touch mine. Slowly he kissed me and I remembered everything again. I remembered the boyfriend I used to have and the best friend I once knew. When he kissed me it was like I was 16 and now I never wanted the fluttering feeling of nostalgia to pass. That's what it was, I had to assure myself. This feeling I was having was merely just a wave of nostalgia passing through my system. A wave that will soon wear off when I realize what a dickhead he is.

I mutter into his lips softly,"Tom what's wrong with me?"

He chose not to answer my question, I didn't want him to. If he answered and he too thought something was wrong with my thinking then I wouldn't get to kiss him. And I really want to kiss him.

But as I thought he'd stay quiet he did come with an answer,"nothing darling."

That was the only time I wouldn't swat him out about that nickname but at the moment I ate it up like fine cuisine. He was referring to me and I loved it.

My fingers travelled through his well groomed hair surely messing it up in an effort to feel every sort of crevice covered on his head. Grabbing at strands to assure me this was really happening at the expense that of his pain and not mine.

I didn't want to stop so I didn't. But he did.

He pulled away with a smile and I never wished to badly to punch it right off his face. I was embarrassed yet I didn't do a thing to save myself. He sits back up straight, tightens his seatbelt and starts the car. He drives. He drops me home. Then he said goodbye. No word of what I asked him to do and no word of what I might ask him to do.

When I was home I wouldn't text Harrison what I've done and I hoped Tom wouldn't either. It was embarrassing enough for me I couldn't let him know I was such a dimwit to go kiss my cheating ex. I couldn't have anyone know how stupid I've been. Even worse I couldn't have anyone know how stupid I want to continue to be. I do wish to have him touch me again, even if all I was feeling was nostalgia it was the good kind. The kind that has you thinking, trying to grasp at the memories you've almost let yourself forget. I just needed more memories of before.

I thought back to those days I was with Tom, when I was really with Tom. He seemed perfect to me and when he wasn't I convinced myself he still was, that I was the imperfect in his imperfection. Imperfection, singular of course-a cheating bastard, a cheating bastard with a gorgeous face, an athletic body and the nicest most manipulative personality. He had one imperfection and that was when he chose to date me. His taste in women really went out the window there, I was self projecting of course. I was a projector I thought but I'd only project on myself because I'm too nice to really hurt anyone's feelings. It's easy to call yourself an idiot but a lot harder to call out anyone else.

So, I was an idiot. A big, ginormous, stupid fucking idiotic idiot.