Sucker For Pain | t.h

TWELVE

"Tom?" I asked.

He looked out to me, his hands laced in each other, which I now realized had been tucked under his chin as a support for this head. I could see a hint of surprise on his face, not expecting to see me stood at his door.

"Darcy." He stuck his hand out, motioning for my hand. "Come here."

  I swallowed nervously and walked closer to him, sticking my hand out, unsure of what he was going to do when I did so. We hadn't had much physical touch over the last week, except for the night me met. Still I wasn't really sure what happened that night.

  He wrapped his fingers around my wrist and pulled me toward him, a gasp leaving my lips when he pulled me to sit down on his lap, my legs either side of his one thigh, the material of his black sweatpants discernible against my legs.

  I could feel the familiar blush cover my face again, shivers running up my spine. His hand was on the top of my arm, around the back of me, as his other hand turned the laptop toward me. How did he make me so nervous?

"Do you recognize him?" He asked, his voice close to my ear.

  I looked at the screen, blinking a few times to adjust to the bright light. I wondered why he hadn't chosen to turn the lights on.

  The image on the screen was of a man in a black suit stood on a curb, which I recognized was the convenience store where Harrison and I had gone to get food. The image seemed to be taken from a surveillance camera.

  I nodded. "Yeah, he was the one that shot at me at the convenience store."

  Even though I had barely seen the mans face, it was easy to tell it was him. The memory of the bullets breaking the back window and his figure stood far away was engraved in my brain. 

  Tom nodded. "Great."

   Though i'd already answered, his hand didn't fall away, nor did he urge me off of him. I looked back at him, our eyes immediately meeting, our faces merely inches apart from each other.

  I could feel the same feelings I felt at the bar, the urge to lean forward and possibly do something i'd regret. Yet, it didn't feel like i'd regret it all.

  "Tom?" I said quietly.

  "Yeah?" He asked, his eyes darting between mine.

  I furrowed my brows. "Why did Harry call me a target?" I asked, trying to find a piece of an answer somewhere in his eyes.

  He looked away from me for a moment, looking back over at the screen as he thought. I knew he didn't really know what to say and I wished I could just pull the answer straight out of him.

He sighed. "I wish I could tell you."

  I frowned. "Then why don't you? What's stopping you from telling me what's going on? You're leaving me in the dark. I don't like it there, it's scary."

  He shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment before they met mine. "There's so much I don't know. I don't know why I was really there that night. I'd been told that you were part of an evil, but.. I can't find a single hint of evil in your eyes." He whispered.