tom felton oneshots!!

4 | my yellow

you stare into the tall length mirror that was against the wall, across from your staggering frame.

you were disgusted. everything you saw, you hated.

your hands run up, over your hips and stomach, trying to suck in the fat.

"gross." you mind scolds you.

you stand to the side, again running your hands over your hips and stomach, wishing all that was there, was not.

you frown as tears well up in your eyes. you lift up your oversized t-shirt and trace the stretch marks that was lining your stomach.

"ugly"

you let out a frustrated sigh as the tears become heavier, streaming down your face and onto your shirt.

you bring your hands up to your hair, gripping on the roots, bound to start a headache if you gripped tight enough.

"no one will ever find this beautiful, no one can even consider this as pretty-"

"darling?" a voice called out, interrupting the corrupted thoughts swarming in your brain.

you freeze in your place as your eyes widen.

"oh no no no." you curse under your breath. "he can't see me like this."

"are you alright in there?" your significant other, tom, calls out worriedly from the other side of the door.

"yes." you state meekly. you clear your throat, fixing your shirt before you call out again. "i'm fine."

"i'll be fine. i'll be fine. i'll be fine. it's just tom." you remind yourself, finding some since of comfort in the words.

"can i come in?" he questions. you smile to yourself, he was always so polite.

as quickly as that smile arrives, it leaves.

your eyes dart around the room, looking for your sweatshirt.

"crap crap crap. he can't see me like this."

you spot your sweatshirt in the corner, next to your desk. you quickly slip it on.

"uh, darling?" tom calls out. "can i come in? are you alright?"

"can you come in?" you mutter to yourself before realizing, having a dumb moment. "oh! yes you can. come in."

"hey, so on wednesday i was thinking we could go out to eat with-" tom comes in, scrolling through his phone before looking down to you, meeting your eyes.

"what's wrong sweetheart?" his face drops.

"what's wrong?" you raise your eyebrows. you were always good at acting. acting in, hiding your feelings. you didn't want to make him worry. "nothings wrong."

he comes over to you, reaching up to your face, whipping the tears you long forgot about with his thumbs.

your eyes widen as you push him away.

"nothings wrong." you confirm more to yourself then to tom. you were okay, right?

right?

"you've been crying." he states, again reaching up to wipe the tears from your eyes you had no control over.

you bite your lip as more tears blur your vision.

"have not."

tom gives you a sympathetic look, a  look that almost says- "i know your lying. i have a pair of eyes to see your lying."