tom holland oneshots

the man with what if's (part four of boomerang)

warnings : angst? sorta hopeful ending but expect another part perhaps

summary : part FOUR of boomerang

word count : 1500

(requested) once again upon popular demand we're back with part four (holy shit) of boomerang

She was so cold; frigid and frozen as heat left her body. Maybe it was just in her nature to never wear the appropriate clothing in relation to the weather, or maybe she was so accustomed to someone always bringing a jacket for her, that she never thought twice about what she wore. Now, though, she regretted every decision she had ever made. 

The walk back to her apartment is already as horrible as it could get, and she still has about eight miles to go. If only she brought a portable charger, or a sweater, or better shoes.

If they were still together, it would've been their two-year-anniversary. Maybe that's why she just left their favorite restaurant. Maybe that's why she went to visit the very same spot in which they happened to have met for the first time. Maybe that's why she's wearing his favorite dress of hers, clad in the best fitting heals that, when worn, still make her shorter than him. Maybe that's why, after an hour and a half of sitting at a table, alone, in the restaurant, drinking wine as she gazed at the fellow couples and families dining, she started crying.

To anyone else, it would look like the rain just got the worst of her. But attention to detail was all she wished for, all she hoped someone would pay. Pay to notice the puffy, red eyes with lingering dark spots under them. Pay to notice how close she is to giving up, desperation for someone infinitely greater than the hole in her heart. 

Love bleeding out, killing her. 

All this time, all these weeks gone by and tears fallen, and she still doesn't love him any less. She hates it, hates how she loves him and needs him, how she craves for the intimacy only he could provide. The warmth and comfort and security he brought, the ease he settled into her bones, and the peace he provided that overtook her body. She wanted it all back. Perhaps Harry was right, that they weren't better off apart, or perhaps her heart wasn't ready for a change that wasn't supposed to happen. 

She doesn't know anything anymore. 

She stumbles slightly as she lets the restaurant door close behind her, holding her purse above her head to at least try and remain dry. After a minute of walking like this, she drops her hands to her sides and gives up once again, letting the rain consume her dress, the dark skies the clouds brought filling her orbs and reflecting back to the souls who dared to look her in the eyes. 

Her vision blurred, the fine line between happiness and pain lost on the journey to her memories of the best thing that ever happened to her. Maybe this was it. 

Another tear fell. She's so distraught she can't even differentiate her tears from the raindrops, piercing her skin and freezing the love that once flowed through her veins. She was so distraught that she didn't notice the car that had pulled up to the curb beside her, following her slowly on her walk back.

The window rolls down, hot waves puffing out and steaming the bitter air of the dim sky. 

"Y/N?" 

She froze, tears still falling, makeup washed away and smudged in the strangest way, her dress sticking to her body. Turning slowly, she saw. There in the car, her savior and her light and her beacon and her safe haven. The man with the arms that could hold her like she was the most precious being in the world, protecting her. The man with hands that could hold her own, promising and providing. The man with legs that could guide her through all of life's difficulties and struggles and pain. The man with big, coffee-chocolate doe-eyes, widened to see the world for all its glories and beauties, her included. The man with a heart so big only fools would let it drop, let it go and watch it shatter the way she did. The man with a burning light, love so strong even the best would be smitten.