Tom holland x You

Bad Dream Good Guy

"What the f**k, girly!" Christian yells, hitting me. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." I say, cowering down. "The h**l you didn't meant to." He yells, hitting me again. "I didn't, how was I supposed to know that your beer was shaken up." I say, still cowering against the wall. "Because you brought it to me!" He yells, hitting me with the whiskey bottle. "Please, stop!" I yell, starting to cry. "Please, stop." He says, mocking me. "To late dumba**!" He yells raising the bottle. "No!" I yell as he brings it down. "No!" I yell, waking up from the nightmare.

"What happened?" Tom asks, running into the room. "I'm sorry, it was just a nightmare." I say, taking a deep breath. "It's ok, I get them too." He says, walking out the door. "Tom?" I say. "Yeah? He ask, walking back in. "Can you stay with me?" I ask quietly, looking at the bed sheets. "Sure." He says, climbing into bed next to me. "Always." He says, holding me close. (Not in a romantic way, in a comforting way, you dirty minded people)

In the morning

I wake up to the pitter patter of rain on the roof. I feel warm arms around me and remember last night. "He probably thinks I'm a f**king baby." I think, my depression starting to talk down on me. "Morning y/n." Tom says, waking up. "Morning." I say, rolling over to look at him. "What's wrong?" He asks, seeing the look on my face. "Nothing." I say, sitting up. "I know that face, that's the same face that Haz makes when his depression gets the best of his mind." He says, sitting up next to me. "It's nothing really." I say, not wanting to tell him what I was thinking. "Just tell me." He says, pushing my hair out of my face. "I can't help if you don't tell me." He says, cupping my face in his hand. "Just that you probably thought I was a pity baby for freaking out like I did over a bad dream." I say, pulling my face out of his hand and looking away. "I don't think that." He says, gently grabbing my face to make me look at him. "I think that you just like everyone else in the world, just prettier." He says, ducking his head to see my face better. "Wh-what?" I say, smiling a little. His face changes from soft and kind to embarrassed. "Did you not mean to say that." I say teasingly, messing around with him. "No I meant to say it, just in my head." He says, blushing. "Breakfast." I hear someone yell, and I recognize the voice. "He here." I say, looking at Tom with fear in my eyes. "Who?" He asks. "Christian."