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On into March things continued to be about the same. Tom, while he opened up quite a bit, was still hesitant to tell you certain things. You still brought him a grande Cafe Americano every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning. You still sat at your table and acted like his shadow. But the difference now was that you came home with him almost every night you saw him just to hang out and have dinner.

You took turns showing each other your favourite movies and you both cooked a lot. Occasionally, you could get Tom to play guitar for you.

Almost all of the times you had gone to be with him you had told Lindsay you were doing a work thing with him. She believed you, and while she still pressed you for information on him, she was sort of respecting your time with him. That was until Tom persuaded you to actually go out to dinner with him.

"Like get dressed up and go out to dinner?" You questioned as you both sat in his office on a Friday morning. The last Friday before Spring Break.

"That's the idea." He replied as he scanned over an e-mail. "What do you say?"

"I mean, that'd be nice. But is that too couple-y?" You scrunched your nose at him.

"When the hell are you gonna finish this dumb ass paper?" He nearly yelled.
Your expression turned confused on him and you waited for him to explain his sudden anger. "I've never gone this long into something with a girl without at least holding her hand." He explained. "We've been doing this for three weeks, (y/n)."

"And we haven't even held hands," you started to laugh. "We're so third grade."

"This paper is so third grade." He joked, "how close are you do getting it done with?"

"I'm almost finished with your career now. I still want to have a meet up with your parents and kind of talk about you as a kid if you'll allow it." You reminded him.

"I'll allow it to an extent, but I wanna be there and I wanna tell you what you can't use." He replied.

"Gotcha." You sighed and continued typing.

"So, you'll come out to dinner with me tonight?" He asked again.

"Like just us alone out in public?" You looked over at his waiting expression.

"Mhm." He nodded.

"Yeah." You shrugged, "why not?"


"You're teling me you've been preactically seeing him this entire time, (y/n) (y/l/n)?!" Lindsay screamed through your closed door.

"Linds, you're gonna annoy the neighbors," you opened your door once you were dressed and let her sit on your bed while you did your make up.

"You've been doing this for how long now? How is he in bed?" She cried out curiously.

"I wouldn't know," you said as you blended the eye shadow.

"What the hell? Why not?" She questioned. "What's wrong with you? Have you seen him?"

"I have," you nodded. "I spend ample amounts of time with him."

"Ample amounts of time that you could have used to fuck his brains out!" She cursed. "Come on, (y/n/n)!"

"Lindsay, I don't wanna be that person for him." You explained to her. "He liked me first, I'm still getting there. It's been hard getting to know someone who gives off puzzle pieces of a life story and makes you put them together."

She tilted her head and waited for you to keep talking.

"I'm just saying," you applied your mascara evenly and looked over your completed face in the mirror. "I want to be at least kind of unbiased while I'm writing this paper. Once it's finished and put into my professor's hands, I'm putting my hands onto him." You joked and you both laughed.

untitled || tom hollandWhere stories live. Discover now