The Silver Car (Thomas Brodie-Sangster Fan-Fiction)

Chapter 8: No Lying In Love

I grabbed my bag, surprised it was still damp from the rain yesterday, and went out into the living room. I looked outside and the sky was gray, and it looked kind of cold. I went back into my room and grabbed the grey sweatshirt and put it on. I waited on the couch, my torn up little notebook in my hand, the page turned to my list. 

"Ready to go sweetheart?" Thomas asked.

"Yes, Thomas," I said. He walked over to me and smiled. 

"You have a list?" Thomas asked. I handed it to him and his eyes scanned the page.

"Sounds good to me!" Thomas said. I stood up.

"If everything gets too expensive, I don't need the shoes or the bag," I said. He shook his head.

"Honey I can manage," Thomas said. I nodded.

"Alright," I said. We left shortly after that. We wanted to find as much as we could in the town, without going in the car.  

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" I said. We were walking down the stairs form the apartment building, on our way to town. I smiled and spun around, looking up at the sky, once we got off of the stairs. Thomas picked me up and spun me around. He set me back on the ground and I smiled at him.

"Not as beautiful as you are," Thomas said. I blushed a little bit and started to look down. He put his hands on my face and gently pulled me close to him. I put my hands against his chest and looked up at him. 

"Thomas," I whispered. 

"Yes my love?" Thomas said, just as quiet as I did moments earlier. 

"Just kiss me already," I said. And so he did. It was sweet, somewhat passionate, but all the same, just one kiss. It wasn't heated. It wasn't Hollywood material. It was just...innocent. Perfect, innocent, love. I pulled back first. I didn't hesitate one second to put a big smile on my face. I hugged Thomas. His chin rested on top of my head and he held me close. It was perfect. And I knew, then, that I liked him. I knew it wasn't practical to say I loved him. I'd only known him for a short while. But I liked him, a lot. That much was clear to me, now. And, if I'm honest, it makes me really happy. Thomas didn't say anything for a long time. He didn't move, either. I slowly pulled back.

"Thomas?" I asked. He looked at me and his smile grew.

"Oh Madi...I wish you could see how beautiful you are. How sweet, kind and amazing you are. That's all I see in you. I love those parts about you. There isn't one thing I don't like about you, Madi."

"Thomas, it's hard to see what's not there for so long," I say. He shakes his head. 

"Madi you've always been beautiful," Thomas started. I put my hand up and stopped Thomas.

"Thomas, don't. Please. C-can we go now?" I say. He takes a step back then nods. I feel bad, but I don't want to hear it. My father used to give me praise. Praise only came after I did something he wanted. It started to get out of hand. 

"Of course," Thomas said. He walked away towards the street. I watched him for awhile. Then I realized I wasn't walking with him. 

"Thomas, wait up?" I said, a lot more like asking, really. He stopped, but he didn't turn to face me. I had made him mad. 

"Thomas, let me explain," I said. 

"Look, Madi. I get it. You're insecure. That's fine with me. I won't compliment you anymore," Thomas said. My heart sank. He didn't understand.

"You don't understand," I said. Thomas shook his head.

"No, I don't. I don't understand why such a beautiful girl like you could hate yourself. You're just like every other girl." Thomas said. 

"You know something Thomas, I thought you were different, too. You won't even let me explain myself before you go off making assumptions about my life. You barely know me. You don't even know my last name," I say, anger slipping into my tone. 

"I bet you don't know mine," Thomas said, surprisingly calm.

"Sangster. Or Brodie-Sangster. It depends on the group of fan-girls that are talking." I said. I started walking away when his hand grabbed my wrist.

"How do you know about me?" Thomas asked. 

"I may have been hiding for 5 years, but I'm not dumb, Thomas." I turned to face him. 

"I never said you were dumb," Thomas said. His face was turning red from anger. He tore his hand off of my wrist. I started walking away, not sure where my destination was.

"Madi don't walk away," Thomas said, suddenly sounding sympathetic. I turned around quickly.

"MY FATHER ABUSED ME THOMAS!" I screamed at him. He took a step back and looked at me. 

"Wh-what?" Thomas looked saddened at this. It only fed my anger, for some reason.

"HE COMPLIMENTED ME. IT WENT TOO FAR. HE HIT ME. HE ABUSED ME. HE USED ME FOR HIS OWN PLEASURES."  I turned around and lifted up the back of my shirt. A big red line, still puffy after all these years, shone through my fair skin. I heard Thomas let out a small gasp. I turned and showed him my shoulders, my l feet, my legs, my stomach. The same red, puffy, scars were everywhere on my body.

"How..." Thomas started. I shook my head, tears now pouring down my face. 

"Please..Thomas..please..." I said. He walked and stood in front of me.

"Please don't call me beautiful. Don't call me pretty. Don't call me amazing. Don't just...please...I'm begging you.." I say in between sobs. Thomas looks me in the eyes.

"I don't think I can lie to you," Thomas said. I started crying harder. Thomas picked me up and started walking back towards the apartment. I buried my head in his chest and continued crying. Once we got inside, he took me to my room and laid me down on my bed. He took my shoes off and then took his off, as well. I crawled underneath the covers and he quickly followed. I snuggled into him instantly. We sat like that for an hour. Thomas didn't say a word, and I had finally cried so much, I became dehydrated, and passed out.