Always Been You | Tom Holland

THIRTY-NINE

Y/N

"Y/N, it's fine. We knew there would be people talking about this." Tom follows me into my flat and locks the door behind us. I throw my keys onto my counter and kick my shoes off. I'm angry. Not with Tom, but with people who don't understand boundaries.

"Yes, we knew that. Did we think there would be some random guy standing outside my building waiting to take a picture of us kissing?" My hands are on my hips. I'm really not trying to fight with him. I'm just flustered and, honestly, a little scared. "That guy knows where I live, Tom."

"I know, and I'm going to take care of that." His phrasing makes me giggle. "What are you laughing at?"

"You sound like a Mob Boss again." He rolls his eyes. "How are you going to prevent more people from finding out where I live?"

"I don't know. I'll buy you a house in the middle of nowhere if I have to." My heart tugs in his direction. "I will literally buy you an entire island to make sure nobody bothers you. I just don't want that asshole to get between us." He sits on my couch and speaks to me through his hands. "I don't even know how he knew we were together, let alone where you lived. I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault." I sit next to him and lay my head on his shoulder.

"But I'm the reason he knows." He whispers.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Making this your fault. It's not."

We're silent for a few minutes.

"Can I be honest?" I say, finally breaking the silence.

"Yes."

"I'm still glad I invited you today. I'm still glad we're talking again. I don't give a shit about sleazy paparazzi. I give a shit about you." He chuckles into his hands and turns his head to look at me, resting it in his open palms.

"Very eloquently said, darling."

"I try." We look at each other for a moment. He looks so tired. I don't realize I'm lifting my hand until I'm touching his face. He leans into my palm and sighs. "You look exhausted."

"I am exhausted." His eyes are closed and his skin is warm against my palm.

"Why?"

"Press is exhausting. I haven't been sleeping."

"Why?" I sound like a child, but I don't care. He opens his eyes and there's a new kind of sparkle to them.

"I had someone on my mind." My throat closes up and I can barely get out my next question.

"Who?" I say, nearly a whisper.

"You." Well, I don't know what I expected him to say. Still, I'm unable to speak. "I lost sleep over how I treated you."

"I wasn't any better."

"We're both brats." He chuckles. My hand is still on his cheek. I can't seem to remove it. "I'm sorry that guy crossed a line. I'll call Christine tomorrow and work something out."

"Guess I should start looking at houses," I laugh and lay back on the arm of the couch, the warmth of Tom's skin lingering in the palm of my hand.

"I was serious about that." I glance up at him and he's looking at me dead in the eyes. He really is serious. My eyes flick down to my fingers, freshly manicured and way less of a disaster than yesterday. My mind flashes back.

"Here." Tom hands me a credit card and I look at him with my eyebrow raised.

"What's this?" I flip the card over and see his name written on the front. Thomas Stanley Holland. "Why are you giving me your credit card?"

"To get your manicure. You said you were going before the party tomorrow. I'm paying for it." He's slumped on my couch, scrolling through his phone.

"No, you're not." I hold the card out to him and he pushes my hand into my chest.

"Yes, I am. If you don't take the card I'll just call the place and pay for it ahead of time, which means you'll get the fanciest, most expensive treatment they have." He looks at me over his phone. He knows he's won.

"Fine." I shove his card into my pocket and try to hide the joy running through me. 

"I know you were." I rub my fingers over my freshly manicured nails.

He's scrolling on his phone and typing vigorously. I know he's texting Christine. I have a feeling my bodyguard is about to be upgraded. His eyebrows are furrowed and he's frowning as he types. He has always shown his emotions on his sleeve. He groans loudly and runs a hand through his hair, causing his curls to grow bigger on top of his head and flop down on his forehead. I love his long hair.

"Penny for your thoughts."

"The photos have already been posted. Christine is handling it." His face is back in his hands. His phone is still unlocked in his lap, a photo of us kissing in his car brightly shown on the screen. If it wasn't a complete violation of our privacy, it would be a really cute picture.

"It's okay, Tom. People were going to find out eventually." I rub his back. "And let's be honest, it wouldn't be our relationship if there wasn't at least a little drama." I chuckle. He's silent. "Tom?"

"Sorry. You're right. I'm just angry. I need to take care of some things. Christine has me doing a zoom interview tomorrow. The timing really sucks. I'm going to have to talk about our relationship. Is that okay?" He looks at me with his tired eyes again. The sparkle from before is gone. Worry fills my heart.

"Yes, that's fine. What are you going to say?" I place my hand on my lap. I resist the urge to pick at the skin around my nails.

"I don't know, yet. I will only say what I have to. There is no reason for anyone to be in our business. I'm sorry this ruined our evening. I'm going to order you dinner and have it sent over."

"You don't have to do that–" He stands up and slips his shoes back on and shoves his arms into his coat sleeves.

"Yes, I do. I will call you tomorrow before my interview." I follow him to the front door. He is all business now. He turns to me and takes a deep breath with his eyes closed. When he opens them, the sparkle is back. "Call me if there are any issues here."

"Okay." I smile and he brushes the hair away from my face. It's so annoying that his touch still sends tingles through my limbs.

"Bye, then." He kisses me softly and a wave of familiar emotion washes over me. I forgot how much I missed this. It's scaring me all over again.

"Bye," I say once our lips are apart. I do want him to stay, but I know he can't. "Let me know when you're home." He pulls his keys out of his pocket and smiles at me.

"Got it, boss." He winks. He pulls open the door, pre-locks it, and says over his shoulder: "Love you." just as the door is closing. A shockwave runs through my body. Did I hear that right?

Surely, he meant it in a different way than he did when he said it to me 6 months ago. In like a, love ya, man! Kinda way. Maybe I imagined it. Maybe I'm hallucinating right now and I'm about to wake up from an extremely vivid dream any minute.

I pinch my arm to test.

Ow.

So, not dreaming. If he did say it, was it intentional? There's no way he would have thrown it at me like that right as he was leaving. He's too sappy and romantic for that. It was absolutely a mistake.

So, if it was a mistake, does he mean it? I don't think the words would leave his mouth if he didn't mean it. He's got a strange track record of accidentally telling me he loves me. And I have a track record of not saying it back.

My phone buzzes in my hand and I nearly jump out of my skin.

Tommy

Home. I'll call you tomorrow.

I guess I have some time to figure my shit out.