Always Been You | Tom Holland

THIRTY

Y/N

These events are exhausting. It's no wonder Tom always complains about them. I'm completely wiped. And drunk. I don't think I've ever been fed that many drinks in the span of a few hours – and my 18th birthday was crazy.

Tom said he'd take care of me tonight and he wasn't kidding. I'm being treated like royalty. He's made it very clear who I am and who I'm with. It's actually pretty hot. I'm not used to being included in these kinds of events. Maybe that's why I'm so exhausted – I've been drinking and socializing all night.

It's clear that the night is winding down – people are putting coats on, cars are lining up, and the crowd is thinning. I'm kicking myself for forgetting my jacket. How did I forget a jacket? It's London. It's cold. Maybe the alcohol coursing through my body will keep me warm.

"Ready to go, babydoll?" Tom's been calling me babydoll as a joke for the past two hours. He heard another guy call his date babydoll and he's been mimicking it ever since because he thinks it's hilarious. I, however, do not.

"I can't wait for this babydoll thing to be over." I roll my eyes. He just holds his hand out to help me up from my chair – another one of his quirks for tonight. "Yes, let's go." I place my hand in his and stand up, the breeze from the open doors sending a chill down my spine.

"Here." He takes his suit jacket off. "I want you to be warm." He places the jacket on my shoulders and I adjust it around my body.

If I didn't know that this is just how Tom is, I would think he was playing the chivalrous date in order to get lucky tonight. To be fair, he's always this gentlemanly, and it's working either way. My plan, on the other hand, is going quite poorly.

Tom's hand finds mine again as we walk toward the doors – cameras are flashing and more people are shouting. Should have guessed. He tightens his grip on my hand and pulls me as fast as he can through the crowd. The flashes from the cameras are worse at night. I guess that makes sense. They're making my head spin even more than it already was. These photos are going to be a sight.

"Tom, Tom, over here!" Men shouting is my least favorite noise. Specifically when they're yelling near me or about me. "Take the coat off so we can get a better look!" I don't think he's talking about my dress.

I continue walking but my arm is nearly snapped out of its socket when Tom stops dead in his tracks, subsequently pulling me backward in the process. I turn back to see him already turned in the direction where the comment came from.

"Tom, don't–"

"Don't speak to her like that." To be fair, he did say this might happen. "I will not allow that." His curls are flopping as he speaks. I hate that I think it's cute. I tug on his hand to get him to keep walking with me. "It's ridiculous. Nobody ever says things like that to me!" He shouts. I pull him back to me and wrap my arm around his waist. "I'm sorry. That just really pissed me off."

"It's okay. Thank you for saying something. Jack never did." He helps me into our car and the door closes behind us, cutting off most of the noise from outside.

We're quiet for most of the ride back to the hotel.

"Jack really never said anything when someone was rude to you like that?"

"No. It was usually his friends and he usually thought it was funny."

"Twat."

He's right.

"I'm gonna get shit for that," Tom whispers. "I can see the headlines: Tom Holland Vs Photographer." He rubs a hand over his face. I know he's frustrated right now, but he really is so beautiful. I never really noticed his freckles before. They're scattered all over like someone splattered paint on his face. I could connect them like the constellations we used to make up.

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to do that for me."

"I want to, though," he grabs both of my hands and rubs his thumbs on the back of them. "I don't want people to think that they can treat you poorly when you're with me. Or without me." He frowns. "That was unacceptable and I want you to feel safe when you're with me."

"I do feel safe when I'm with you." I squeeze his hands. My plan is going downhill. "I've always felt safe with you." Alarms are going off in my head. This is going against everything I have built up for myself for the past 26 years. Seriously, my conscience is screaming at me. "Hey, remember when you asked me why we never got along?" Y/N shut up Y/N shut up Y/N shut up.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Alright kids, here's your stop."

Saved by the bell. Boy am I hoping Tom is drunk enough that he'll let that conversation go once we're upstairs.

Upstairs.

When we're upstairs... in our room. Our room. I mean, tonight has gone very well. I'd even say incredibly well. I had way more fun than I thought I would. Aside from getting berated on the red carpet, I really enjoyed myself. Tom is a great date.

I'm just as confused as I was a week ago. Sometimes I wish Tom never accidentally told me he loved me. Or at least that he took it back. I really think that would have made my life way easier.

Or just made me more confused. Fuck, men really are the root of my problems.

"Y/N?" Tom is standing in the doorway of the bathroom attempting to take off his bowtie. "Did you hear me?" No, I was daydreaming about you, actually.

"Sorry, love. I was lost in thought. What did you say?"

"I asked if you could help me," his hands smack the sides of his legs. "This bowtie is killing me."

"Sure," I laugh and reach my hands out as I walk over to him. I haven't even taken my heels off.

"Thank you," he frowns. He's exhausted, I can tell. What I can't tell is whether or not I'm just drunk or if I actually do think the way his curls stick to his forehead is cute.

I lift the collar of his shirt up and inspect his bowtie. Law really tied this tight. I have to use my nail to get it loose. Once I get it loose enough, I pull the knot undone and the fabric lays on either side of the collar. I pat his chest with both hands and look at him. Being this close to him makes me nervous all of a sudden. I've been close like this with him many times before, but for some reason, my heart feels like it's going to beat out of my chest. I wonder if he can feel it.

I don't know how long we've been standing here. It feels like a minute and an hour at the same time. I've had my hands on his chest for too long. I can feel his chest muscles through his shirt. My head feels heavy and I don't think it's the alcohol. He's never looked at me like this before. His eyes look different. I feel different. His arms wrap around my waist and I feel my legs turn into jelly. Boundaries are blurring. My conscience is now a mere whisper. I'm so fucked.

His lips are on mine. My mind is fuzzy. My heart is racing. This kiss is different.

Fuck boundaries.