Peter Parker & Tom Holland Imagines

rules of heartbreak pt.5

I stare at myself in the mirror. No makeup to hide the bags under my eyes, no perfect shade of lipstick to keep people from looking too close, nothing to hide behind. It's the real Y/N, and I don't know what to make of her. Mostly because she's been lost under the fake laughter and false happiness for so long.

Except for when I'm around Tom.

It's a glaring truth I can't hide from anymore. Tonight, I saw what all this fake has made me into. A perfect doll that everyone wants on their arm or in their bed. Nothing more than an idea to most people.

But when I was dancing with Tom—when he looked at me—I felt real. I felt understood. Heck, I felt brave for the first time in what seems like an eternity, and I can't bring myself to hate him for it—I can't hate the way he looks at me like I used to.

I think I'm in love with Tom Holland.

The thought rings in my head as I trudge out of the bathroom to the guest bedroom my aunt and uncle were gracious enough to let me overrun. My sweatpants drape over my feet and onto the floor just enough to keep back a bit of the chill. I twist one of Harrison's old shirts around my fingers as I try to deny my feelings.

I can't be in love with Tom. I just can't. Because loving someone is too much of a risk. You give them everything and pray they will stay, and they don't always.

But sometimes they do. A soft voice whispers in a way so much like my aunt when she comforts me on the rough days. It's gentle and sparks a little bit of hope that maybe it wouldn't all go to ruin.

My train of thought is interrupted the moment I spot Tom sitting on the edge of my bed, smiling down at the photo I grabbed earlier today. "Why?" I question, my voice raw and scratchy. Tom instantly looks up at me with a curious look. "Why are you still here? I thought you would have left by now. It's not like you have a reason to stay." The last part comes out in a bitter whisper, because on the surface, I still can't help but think he'll leave.

Tom squints his eyes, and I swear there's a sadness to his voice as he asks. "You really think I would leave you like that?" I shrug and sit a few feet away from him. His eyes go back to the picture, and I can't help but watch him. There's a faint smile on his lips. A shine to his wondrous brown eyes that messes with my head. "You know, I still think about that day."

"What? Harrison's party?" I question, wondering where the heck he's going with this.

"Yeah. It was the day I started having a crush on you." He says it so casually like discussing the weather. "You were so funny and bright and just—I can't even explain it. I wanted to ask you out so badly, but I didn't cause you were Haz's cousin.

"Then when we hung out at the diner, I just fell so much harder." He pauses, voice turning sad as he continues, "It changed not too long after, and I never knew why."

I sigh and pull my knees up to my chest. "My dad left." I whisper, feeling lighter at the admission of truth. For some reason, it feels natural when I talk to Tom after these weeks of dating. "He and my mum were having problems long before that, but one day I woke up to him leaning over my bed and telling me he had to leave. He promised he would come back soon, but that never happened.

"It was downhill after that." I whisper and hastily wipe away a tear. "Mum had been in an accident a few weeks before, and after she started changing. I didn't realize until it was too late that she had gotten hooked on her pain pills. I hid it for a while. Kept it a secret and pretended that she was still upset over the divorce.

"Then she started having mood swings. She would get so angry over nothing, scream at me, throw things, and then within the hour she was back to being my mum. Except she always told me the same things, 'you can't leave me, baby. Everyone always leaves, but you can't.' It's about the same time she started teaching me how to be a good trophy, how to make sure you're nice and pretty so 'he'll stay.'"

I look up at Tom through the tears. His eyes are full with understanding and sorrow as he tentatively rests a hand on my knee. "I'm sorry, Y/N. No one deserves to go through that." He pauses for a long second and glances around the room. "Is that why you live with Harrison?"

"Yeah. I go and check on her every couple days, and I've been saving up my money. I'm close to having enough to get her real help." I whisper and avoid his eyes. "It's why I took the bet. The money will be enough."

Tom's fingers curl beneath my chin and lifts it so I'm forced to look at him. "Well, if it helps, you won."

My heart stutters in my chest. Tom loves me? I want to smile at the thought, but there's the issue that I love him too. Neither of us wins. "It doesn't." I find myself whispering and wipe away another tear. "Because it means neither of us won."

Tom's hand falls and eyes widen. "Wait, are you—?" I meekly nod. "You love me?"

"Or close to it at least." I mumble and do everything I can from looking at him.

Although, it's hard not to when he grabs the sides of my face. His eyes bore into mine before flickering down to my lips. "Well, consider this me officially forfeiting." His lips brush mine as he speaks and closes the distance painfully slow.

My hands rest on the back of his neck and pull him closer as we kiss. All the while my head spins. Because it's so different from every other kiss I've had. While the others were all hasty and wanting; this is soft, tender, and loving. We both part for breath, and I frown despite myself.

I want this so badly. I need this, but my fears still linger. "I don't think I can do this. I'm sorry." I whisper and pull away from him as I run out of the room.

Tom follows immediately and gently grabs my waist to stop me. "I love you. You love me. So give me one good reason why I can't make you happy, Y/N." He whimpers as he presses our foreheads together.

Tears build in my eyes again. "Because—" I stutter through the emotions, "—as much as I want this. It can't happen. I'll just end up hurt when it ends or when you leave."

"Y/N," He says it like a prayer, "I would never intentionally hurt you. Please, just give me a chance. I'll do anything." He opens his eyes and wipes my tears as he desperately whispers, "Please."

I sigh and desperately try to make a decision. "Tom, I—"