Always Been You | Tom Holland

THIRTY-FIVE

Tom

I thought coming home would help my anxiety and stress, but last night proved that it is only going to add to it. Seeing Y/N unexpectedly for the first time in months was beyond hard. Seeing her and knowing she wanted nothing to do with me was even harder. She was right. I should have reached out. I knew she wouldn't. She's too damn stubborn. I knew we left way too much up in the air when I left. Our fight the night before I left was heartbreaking and I just didn't want to relive it again if I called her while I was away.

I hadn't thought about how hard this all was on her. She looked so sad when she said I was inescapable. She's right. I'm hardly ever on social media these days, and she's had to deal with me doing press for months. I feel terrible. I hate that I'm the source of her unhappiness. She's never looked at me the way she looked at me last night. She looked actually hurt when she left the party. And it was because of me. And for me to just leave like that? God, you idiot.

I open our text thread and scroll through it, as I typically do when I'm thinking about her (which is often), and read our last texts to each other, nearly six months ago. I thought we were on the way to mending our relationship. I was wrong.

Tom

I leave tomorrow. Can I see you before I go?

Y/N

Depends. What's in it for me?

Tom

What, seeing me isn't enough?

Tom

I'll bring dinner.

Y/N

Now you're talkin. Come over at 6?

Tom

It's a date.

Y/N

:)

I couldn't bring myself to delete our thread, even though Zendaya said it would be "cleansing". I like to scroll back and remind myself of the good times we had. The jokes we shared. Really, though, I think it just pushed me further into the hole I was already stuck in. It's been nearly impossible for me to move on. I've tried my best to push through for the press junket, but people have been noticing. My fans have been noticing. They're catching on. They know Y/N and I didn't work out, and they know it's tearing me apart.

I just wish she knew how much I wanted to reach out. Every time I picked up my phone to call, my fingers would freeze. I was afraid she'd yell at me, send me to voicemail, or tell me to never speak to her again.

"Tom?" Jane's voice is on the other side of my door. "Can I come in?" I know Ben is at his flat because he sent me a picture of his breakfast 5 minutes ago. Jane is here by herself.

"Sure." I sit up in bed and close out of my texts. The last thing I want is for her to know I was reminiscing. She opens the door slowly and steps inside my room with a timid smile. "What's up? Not that it's not lovely to see you, but what are you doing here?"

"Just came to check on you." I raise an eyebrow. I know she's not telling the full truth. "Okay, I also came to tell you that I'm throwing Y/N a birthday party this weekend and Ben won't admit it but he wants you to come."

"I don't think Ben wanting me to come really matters. I don't think the birthday girl wants me there." I bought Y/N a birthday gift months ago, in hopes that we'd be friends again by the time her birthday rolled around. Clearly, I jumped the gun. 

"I already talked to her. She is fine with it." I look at Jane, confusion plastered all over my face. "Okay, she said 'fine, whatever,' which, in Y/N language, means she's fine with it." She smiles.

"I don't know, Jane..." Truthfully, I do want to go. But I don't want to ruin her birthday.

"Please come. We're celebrating all week. Come for drinks tonight. You two just need to get used to hanging out again."

"I'm not sure that's the solution." The solution is, I need to stop being a baby and start taking some action. I need to show her that I care about her still. I type on my phone for a few seconds before looking back up at her. "If I say yes, will you leave me alone?"

"Yes! See you tonight! 8:00!" She shuts my door and I hear her footsteps run down the stairs before my front door opens and closes. She is exhausting.

Y/N

I walk into my building after a whole day of Christmas shopping with about a hundred bags in my hands. God, I wish I lived on the first floor. I juggle my keys out of my pocket as I reach my floor and stop in my tracks when I see a bouquet of flowers sitting outside my door. An early birthday present, perhaps? I open my door and drop my bags to the floor before turning around and picking up the vase. It's a beautiful arrangement filled with my favorite flowers. Not many people know my favorite flowers, so either Jane sent these or someone had a really lucky guess. I dig out the card and open it to read the message inside.

A peace offering.

-Tommy

My heart drops. Tom sent these? I look back at the flowers and feel a wave of emotions flow through me. I told him my favorite flowers one time off-handedly when we passed by a florist on our way to dinner. I only mentioned it once. He remembered.

I'm supposed to be mad at him.

It's hard when he's quite possibly the sweetest human on the planet. I look at the card again. Tommy. He hates being called Tommy. He knows I love to call him Tommy. It started as a joke, but it eventually turned into me genuinely enjoying the nickname. He signed it Tommy on purpose. 

I place the vase on my kitchen table and put the card in a drawer with the rest of my mementos from friends and family. One of our childhood polaroids is in there, too. I pull it out to examine it for the hundredth time this week and feel a tug at my heart. The two of us, so young, staring at the stars.

Let's be clear: I shouldn't let myself reignite my feelings for him. I shouldn't allow myself to let him back into my life. I shouldn't, I shouldn't, I shouldn't.

I've spent months rebuilding the walls that he somehow tore down. I've spent months telling myself I didn't need him. I've spent months feeling the saddest I've ever felt, just for him to walk back into my life and win me over with some flowers? I know I should tell him to fuck off.

I've never been good at listening to my conscience, though.