Always Been You | Tom Holland

TWENTY-ONE

Y/N

I mean, if someone would have told me 3 months ago that I would be sitting in my living room having a cocktail after going on a date with Tom ... I would have laughed in their face. But it's happening, and I'm actually having a really good time. Reminiscing on our childhood and laughing about the ridiculous things we used to do is so fun. Tom really knows how to make a date swoon. I'm not sure if this is all a ruse that he puts on for all of his dates, but either way, it's working.

"You were such a brat," I laugh. "You know I still can't go into the aardvark exhibit at the zoo because of that?"

"Oh, come on, it's been so long!"

Tom is facing me on my couch, his one leg tucked underneath his butt and his arm resting on the back of the couch. His arms seriously look like they're going to burst out of his sweater.

"You really can't?" He sips on his drink and looks at me over the rim of his glass.

"Nope, they still freak me out." I feel him shake with laughter beside me.

We're close enough, that if I leaned forward just a little, our noses would be touching. I've been trying not to think about that all night. I haven't been very successful. He keeps lightly touching my leg while we talk. It makes me shiver. I don't think I mind.

"I'll keep that in mind," he places his empty glass on my coffee table. "Thank you for allowing me to take you out tonight. I've really enjoyed myself." He places his hand on mine. I wonder if he can feel my heartbeat through my skin.

"Yeah, me too," I smile. "You sure know how to show a girl a good time."

"I'm glad you think so," he chuckles. The tension in the room is far too palpable. "That wasn't even as far as I'd go to show you a good time." Did I just black out? What did he say? Fuck.

"R-really?" Is all I can manage to squeak out.

"Well, that's only if you allow me to take you out again." Something about him saying if you allow me is incredibly hot. He pulls my hand up to his mouth and kisses the top softly. I feel jittery. "You look beautiful," he keeps my hand up to his mouth.

"Thank you," I whisper. I'm not even sure if he hears me.

"You always look beautiful," he flips my hand over and kisses my palm. "Ever since my birthday party, you've been on my mind a lot," his mouth moves to my wrist. I feel like I'm going to pass out. "How is it that I can go from hardly being able to stand you," he kisses my wrist again. "To constantly wanting to grab you and kiss you?" His breath is warm on my skin. I feel a bead of sweat drip down my back.

"I..." I don't have any words. He lifts his hand up to my face and rubs his thumb gently across my chin. He leans in and my mind races. I feel like I've been in slow motion for the past few minutes. Now my brain is finally catching up. "Tom." His face is so close to mine, I can count the freckles on his nose. "What are we doing?"

"Well, I know what I was about to do–"

"No, I mean, what is going on? With us?"

He leans back and runs a hand through his hair. His curls flop back onto his forehead in perfect alignment. I can almost see his brain working to figure out what to say. To be fair, I couldn't have picked a worse time to bring this conversation up. I just can't go any further with this... whatever it is... without knowing what is going on in his head.

"That's, uh, that's a good question."

"Do you have an answer?"

"Kind of..." he trails off.

"Well?" I don't mean for it to come out so snarky, but it does anyway. Snarky is my go-to when talking to Tom, sometimes.

"I meant what I said." He says after a moment of silence. "Yesterday. In my room."

"You think you love me?"

"No." He looks at me. "I know I do."

Well, this just got more complicated. I think up until right now I assumed he didn't really mean it when he said it to me yesterday. I thought maybe he was buttering me up to say he was in a panic and it slipped out. Clearly, I was wrong.

"Oh."

"I know I have a lot to prove and even more to make up for," he sits cross-legged in front of me. "And I don't expect you to say anything in return. I just want to move past these stupid fights we keep having."

"Yeah, me too." I smile. "I need some... some time to figure my shit out."

"I understand."

We sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes. I have a clear boundary set for myself: I can't have sex with Tom – no matter how much I want to – until I figure my feelings out. I don't want to hurt either of us. It just so happens that he's made it very hard for me to stick to that boundary. Like, really hard.

"I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable," he frowns. "My, uh, my move."

"It didn't," I place my hand on his. "You're very smooth, Mr. Holland."

"Ha ha," he rolls his eyes. "I try my best," he pats his free hand on top of mine. "It's getting late. I should get back."

I want to ask him to stay. I won't, but God I want to. It's so weird seeing him like this. I've always seen him as my brother's annoying friend. Even just a few days ago I saw him as my brother's annoying friend. 

Now, though...

"Thank you, again, for dinner. It was amazing."

"Any time, my love." My love. "When can I see you again?"

"Well, I'm going to be at work all day tomorrow to get my office set up, so unless you'd like to help me with that –"

"I'd love to help you."

"Y-you would?" Not once did Jack ever offer to help me get any of my classrooms or offices set up.

"Absolutely. What time?" He's up now, getting his keys and jacket.

"Um, 9:00. I'll pick you up."

"Perfect. I'll see you tomorrow, then, darling." He walks over to me and kisses the top of my head. "Bye, love." Love.

"Bye," I whisper, and then he's gone.

Things just seem too good to be true.