THIRD PERSON
SIX WEEKS
The sound of wood against fist sounded through the house. A man was knocking. Once, twice, after the third his fist turned flat, the palm of his hand sliding down the door.
"What am I doing?"
A woman sits inside the house, sitting beneath a window. One knee close to her chest, the other flat on the ground. She watches as three children play in front of her. Her throat starts to sting, the feeling moving up towards her eyes.
"Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't you dare cry." She whispers softly.
His eyes move towards the windows on the front of the house, his feet stay still. He waits a minute, he turns his back towards the door, he looks at the car in the driveway.
"I'm sorry." A soft breath of air escapes the man's lips, his feet taking him away from the house, from the area, away.
The next day the same man comes, once again knocking on the door three times, the sounds echoing through the house.
The woman lays on her bed, soft sobs escaping her lips. The left side of her chest is in physical pain, just like it had been some years ago. The feelings mirrored, parallel, the same.
"Its the fear of falling in love."
The man waits patiently. A pained sensation filling his body. Had he not left that night, had he cared to remember, would he be here right now?
He doesn't need anything or anyone to give him the answer. He knows. He wouldn't be here right now. He wouldn't wonder what his kid looks like. He wouldn't be crying.
The woman soaks her pillow, her eyes hurt but they continue to drain. A hand rubs her back, a voice reminding her to breathe, reminding her everything's okay. Reminding her she didn't die and she won't.
The man's face is hung low, his hands holding a note below him. This is the closest he's been in four years. He came all this way. He needs to see her.
"Please," The man and women sync for a moment, only feet apart,
"let me back in." The man finishes.
"leave." The woman too.
The man takes a deep, shaky breath. He raises his head and wiped his tears with his sleeve. He sticks the note to the door, his hand resting there for a few minutes. Then, like the day before, it slides off. His back turns toward the door, he looks out toward the street and begins walking.
A child peaks his head through the window, watching the man leave in wonder. Heavy breathing comes from the room over, the child puts his ear over the wall, hearing the sobs of his mother,
"Mom..."
The other child does the same, her eyebrows furrowing at the sounds, "Moms not good." The two children sit on the bed for a while, listening and looking at each other.
Four of her fingers slowly slide the ring off as tears cascade down her face.
The man lays on the hotel bed for a while, his hands supporting his head. The ceiling is a warm, beige color. He studies it for a long while. Thinking about his next step. All he can do now is wait.
He sighs and sits up, looking across the room at the mirror above the dresser.
His eyes wander to the mirror on the wall. His heart is loud and rapid, aching of sadness. His eyes, though, are cold and sharp. He looked scary. His face was full of anger, but his heart told another story. He swallows and looks at the ceiling.
His legs move him off the bed and towards the objects, his arms hold his body above the dresser. In the mirror, the man studies himself. His eyes were red and sad. Somewhere between despair and melancholy.
The woman, now miles away, sniffles, the tears finally stopping, She turns over to face the person whom she receives comfort. He had left to check the door and returned with a piece of paper. It had been an hour and a half since the man left the house, away probably to the inner city.
"What does it say?" She asks, sitting up, her hair in a mess.
"I don't know. I haven't read it. You should. I need to check on the kids."
Her hand connects with his, the paper being transferred into her hand. Her arm falls, hitting her leg. She watched the guy leave the room, leave her. She runs her hand through her hair, the limb getting stuck multiple times.
She looks down at the paper.
"Hey. I'm sure by this point you know that I'm here. I'm sure you know why. Or maybe you don't. I know it's been years. And I'm sorry this wasn't on your terms. I genuinely am. I'm sorry for before." The tears start again, remembering that day. "I have so many regrets. So fucking many, Y/N. You deserved so much better, and I'm sorry I didn't give you better. I'm sorry I left. I'm sorry I screamed. I'm sorry. I know I can't reverse time and I know I'll never be able to apologize enough. But I want to meet our child, Y/N. I want to see you and see them and be there for them. I wasn't there for the first three years but I can be there for the rest. I promise I'll never cause harm. Please, let me see them.
Thomas
XX XXXX XXXXXX"
Y/N leaves the letter on the bed and walks toward the mirror in her room.
The sound of metal against wood is loud. The girl's head looks up and into the mirror above the dresser, her hand reaches out to touch it.
Tom didn't sleep much that night. His mind raced until it tired itself out and crashed. The morning after he doesn't go back to the house, he waits. He gets out of bed and uses the bathroom. He looks in the mirror, starting to fix his hair. And that's when he sees it in the corner of the mirror, His phone screen flashes a phone call. He races over, looking at the Korean phone number on his screen.
"Please." He hopes, picking it up.
A woman's shaky voice is on the other side, "Two. There are two."
The diamonds still sparkle under the faint moon light. He looks at the note, quickly skimming over it before shoving both the ring and paper into an empty dresser drawer.
Hi! I've been studying for exams recently so sorry about the update being a few days late. My exams finish on Tuesday, and then I'm on winter break, I'm very excited to be done.
How have you been doing? Good, I hope. It started snowing where I live the other day. I would normally be excited about it but I have to drive tomorrow, and snow scares me haha.
I hope you liked this chapter. It was written quite differently from the others, I think. I wanted this one to be special, though. The italics are part from the prologue, if you didn't notice. I thought that was cool to add in.
I think that's all.
I hope you have a good day/night wherever you are in the world. I love you so much, thank you for supporting me.
-SIDEPHAN-
YOU ARE READING
Serendipity // Tom Holland X Reader
Fanfiction(SEQUEL TO NERVOUS) It's been almost four years since Y/N left and everyone's lives have changes so much. But Tom wants to find his child. He wants a relationship with it, he might even still want a relationship with Y/N.
