Tom Holland is a Liar: T.H x Reader

Chapter 15

I didn't want to remember what I had done last night, I didn't want to shrivel in shame over myself especially over my stubbornness shedding away just for one night. But I didn't get the privilege of a fragmented memory, I was stuck with my example of stupidity last night. I was completely screwed in my time with Tom yet in an odd way I couldn't make myself go to completely regret with what we've done. It was a question I'd force myself to reckon with, did I really want to forget the night I've done before?

I didn't. I didn't because every time I'd let myself think and every time I'd let myself grasp at flashes of last nights activity I'd be filled with the sensation of helplessness. Remembering his eyes made me helpless, the way his fingers traced along my wrist and the soft kisses he rests upon my jaw-i was helpless. And I wanted to be.

It was stupidity sure, but not in the worst way. Not in the way to ruin my life, in fact this morning I direly tried to make myself believe I acted in the stupidity one may benefit from. As more of a badge, my achievement-or an experiment. I've never kissed any of my other ex-boyfriends after our fall outs, but I kissed Tom and the way I thought of Tom was like precious gold. I put him on a pedestal, he wasn't my ex-boyfriend, he was an outlier of perfection to me. What he did to me was so cruel and crude yet I was unreliable on myself and unreliable when it comes to sparing my own feelings that I just accepted the thought of him all the same. I've said it before, I was supposed to hate him but I couldn't bring myself to even try. I forgave with no reason to forgive.

I truly think I'd let him ruin my life again, although I love the idea of getting off to my 'dislike' towards him. I loved to be angry at him but I never remembered what I'd ever be so angry about.

I was still in bed-it was a quarter to 10. My parents were already at work. It was a quarter to 10, I see the dent in my bed beside me where I remembered he lied, still just a quarter to 10. I look to my clock it was nine-fifty now, I look to my night stand. His watch, his leather strapped, silver lined, rustic, expensive, designer watch. He left it behind.

I wanted to grasp onto the thought that he might leave behind such an artifact as for it's retrieval, my return. I figured he left behind as a tactic, he wanted me to go over to him-in theory of course.
A steady sound of ticks echoed from the chamber of the clock face, looking in it's pane glass I could make out my morning reflection almost slightly though the sun's gaze seemed too intent on the same place-giving it's rays a blinding look. It was already too early for me to leave my bed but once one foot escaped my covers I could manage to conduct the other out as well. Soon down the stairs then soon more to make myself breakfast.

Tom didn't even leave a note for his departure. He just up and left, I wouldn't even think it was real if it wasn't for his watch. I wished he hadn't let me think it was real, I wished he'd have let me forget. I had to return his artifact.

Once finished getting ready I'd force myself into my car. An unruly task it was especially when I have no use for driving and especially no use for driving when unbearably tired. I felt as if the bag under my eyes could weigh down my entire head, the the yawns would distract as I conduct the wheel. Though when I drove I seemed to overestimate my danger, I arrived at the Holland's house early. Just catching the parents leaving for work early, I only knew it was Mrs. Holland's black jaguar from the almost obnoxious bumperstickers that rode on the back of her SUV's trunk. Just barely grasping onto the vehicle and dirty and matted, but I was sure that was Tom's mother's car. I almost gasp as her car passes mine but I was at a hundred percent positivity that she hadn't even a clue as to who I was.

I had gotten' to Tom's driveway now and I was far too embarrassed to get out of the car. I let my palm rest against my own car's horn, in a pulse of a pump the car exclaims a beat. Tom's room had a window to overlook the front driveway, I figured if a horn would shout an unruly amount of times the boy would eventually come to his window and see me. At least in this action it be as if he were approaching I, instead of me being the one to knock at his door. Though even still, honking repetitively seems to also make me seem like the bad one.

My eyes could see the scuffled boy's gaze through his upstairs window and I even tricked myself into thinking he smiled as he recognized my car. Seconds later he comes through the front door, he's still in his pyjama's but he's all too confident to even care about his appearance. He walks and stops in front of my window, slowly I muster my confidence as the window glass falls through the crack of the door. I couldn't even look at his eyes, I could see his side profile from the side view mirror.

"Morning darling, back so soon?" he says cheerily, he must've already had his tea or he wouldn't be nearly as happy in the morning.

I sigh and I knew he thought I was basking in him,"you left your watch at my place."

I hand him the expensive, silver, clock.

He smiles as he takes it from my hand,"And you've been so kind as to bring it back to me then?"

"That's what it seems," I reply.

"Would your kindness happen to extend?" he asks.

That was his way of asking me inside, I did not want to go inside. My rebellious finger hit the button of the window functions, the glass slowly slides up at my hold. But Holland doesn't take a queue, instead he walks to my passenger seat at opens the door, even daring to lay his arse in the chair.

I should've locked the doors.

"You know the road conditions are very bad this time of year," he starts.

"You're right, it's especially icy in July," I practically laugh.

He didn't partake in my laughter,"come in," he says.

"for what?"

"For the sake of it?" he says almost in a question.