I've Got Your Six - Mob!TomxReader

Chapter 8 - If You'll Have Me.

It had been days since Y/N had spoken to Tom, aside from the odd 'Of course.' and 'Here.' and other things of the sort. She'd risen in the morning, showered and got dressed and made her way to his office - where she stood silently unless spoken to, as far away from Tom as she could get but close enough to the cabinet, and then immediately retired to her bedroom afterwards. Despite Tom being hot on her heels every single time, hoping to speak to her, she'd always managed to get to her room quicker, and locked the door behind her - only coming out late at night, as quiet as she could (knowing Tom rarely slept) to make her way downstairs for food.

Y/N was still heartbroken after their last conversation, and she was still unsure if Tom knew why, but she continued to avoid him as much as she could, and she was feeling better than she was a few days prior. She'd last spoken to Tom on Tuesday, and it was now Friday night. She'd heard Harrison speaking with the twins about going out tonight, and she wondered if Tom would be going with them. Maybe she'd be able to roam the house for a while without being afraid Tom would appear in front of her to try and talk to her.

An hour later, hearing the booming laughter and shouting of the tipsy men headed out to the bar, she cracked open her door before heading downstairs towards the kitchen. She initially poured a glass of white wine, and went to put the bottle back - before glancing at it for a moment and taking it with her towards the garden doors, glass in the other hand. Balancing the wine glass and the bottle between her fingers in one hand, she slid the door open and made her way towards the grass beyond the patio - shuffling down the small slope before stopping by the pond at the bottom, and it was there - she lost herself inside her own thoughts and the haze of the wine.

-

It didn't take long for Y/N to sway side to side on the grass, chuckling to herself, wondering how she ended up in such a position - however she was so drunk, she didn't hear the footsteps approaching her from behind, and it wasn't until someone sat beside her that she realised she wasn't alone.

"Having fun?" Tom said solemnly, avoiding her eyes as she squinted slightly to look over at him. "Why do you ask? It's not like you care. We aren't friends. I'm here to pour drinks, not anything else, remember?" Y/N scoffed, taking another swig from the bottle of wine in her hand before raising it out towards the horizon. "You have ALL of this to worry about, don't you? No time to care or worry about a lowly barmaid. I'm just another soldier in the ranks, but instead of firing guns, I top up your glass so your clients don't end up like Morello." she spat. "Milani." Tom corrected, but she paid it no mind before she continued.

"Was that night really that stupid to you? Was I just there for you to show everyone that you could have someone on your arm if you wanted to? Or was I just there as a dance partner so you could show off how elegantly you can slide across the dance floor? Another talent to add to everyones list of what the infamous Tom Holland can do." She let out a sarcastic, breathy laugh, before turning to look at him again. He was staring at her intently, his brow furrowed, and she couldn't tell if he was confused or angry. Maybe both.

"Tell me, Tom. Tell me what that night meant to you. I don't understand why you did it. I thought we were on the same page, but apparently not considering I was some STUPID decision you made." He winced at that, and swallowed thickly.

"Darling...I didn't mean it that way, please tell me you know that." He narrowed his eyes, but it wasn't an angry look, it was..almost hurt. Almost, she thought. She'd never seen hurt on his face. Not emotionally. She didn't know what that looked like on him.

"Then how DID you mean it, Tom? Because that's SURE as hell the way it came across. Next time, you might as well quite literally stick your hand through my chest and rip my heart out. You're not fucking stupid. You knew exactly what you were saying." She had sobered up by now, the rage blazing through her. There were no tears brimming her eyes, but there was a fiery heat running up her neck and around the sides of her face. She was seething.