Always Been You | Tom Holland

FIFTEEN

Y/N

I wake up to Jane banging on my door. Clearly, she's been up for a while. I pick up my phone and check the time: 9:50. She wasn't kidding when she said we were having breakfast at 10:00 sharp. I scroll through my notifications – mostly just videos and pictures from Tom's party – and see a slew of texts from Tom. I must have fallen asleep before he sent them.

Tommy

I'm sorry.

Tommy

If you're not ready to tell me what happened to make you hate me, that's okay.

Tommy

I just want to be your friend.

Tommy

I'll see you in the morning.

He's never been one to send just one text at a time. Our fight last night was stupid. I just don't know what I want anymore. Everything is so confusing.

Y/N

I'm sorry, too. We can be friends, I promise.

I scroll through all of the pictures on Instagram – some are clearly from the end of the night – and I can't help but laugh. We look like we're having the time of our lives. I notice my follower count has skyrocketed – so I check my tagged photos and see that I'm tagged in both Zendaya's and Tom's posts. What a world I'm living in. I tap on Zendaya's post and swipe through the pictures: one of her and Tom, a few of her and Tom's family, and one with me and her. We're both laughing and holding our champagne glasses.

"Tom only turns 26 once."

Now that I've been tagged in one of Z's posts, Tom's fans are definitely going to think we're dating. I scroll up to his post and swipe through the pictures. He loves a photo dump, so it's just an assortment of random pictures from last night, but my heart stops when I swipe to our picture. I don't even know who took it. It's a photo of me and Tom dancing. My hand is on his shoulder, his is on my waist, and our hands are interlocked next to us, guiding our swaying. We're laughing at God knows what, but, my head is thrown back and he's looking at me. The look in his eyes is... so sweet.

"Same time next week, yeah?"

I like the photo and scroll through the comments, of course most of them talking about the picture he posted of us. I don't blame them. It makes me want to gush, too.

Y/Nwalker

I think I need 2 weeks to recover from last night.

"Y/N! Get your butt moving!" Jane knocks on my door again. I guess I should get up.

I don't realize just how hungover I am until I get up and brush my teeth. Fuck, I need a 3-week alcohol detox. I throw on a sweatshirt over my leggings and walk into the living room where Ben is holding champagne and an assortment of breakfast items in his hands. Jane walks in with, somehow, more champagne and a bag of stuff I can't see. Neither of them looks like we drank for 12 hours yesterday.

"Ah, there she is. Let's get going, gang!" Jane's extra chipper this morning. Can't relate.

We make the walk next door to the Holland's house, which is buzzing with people and energy. A lot of Tom's friends and family stayed over last night, so the party is essentially spilling over into today. Tom's dad is already cooking a large breakfast for us, and Jane doesn't hesitate to jump in and start helping while Ben opens a bottle of champagne and begins to pour mimosas for everyone. I guess my detox starts tomorrow.