Only You ── TOM HOLLAND

16. I'm Not Happy

I remained by his side for the entire night. No matter where we were, or what we were doing, Isaac seemed to find a way to keep his hold on me. Whether it be holding my hand beneath the table, or having his thigh brushing mine from closeness. His sister and mom seemed to find it endearing, but I didn't. 

I felt suffocated.

He was afraid I was going to leave. I understood why, considering I've tried breaking up with him twice now, only to fail both times. He had every right to be afraid I was leaving him, because I was, but that didn't make me feel any better about what was happening. I didn't want to feel like he was putting on an act for me because he knew one wrong word and I would pack up my stuff and vanish from his life. I wanted us to feel real.

I wanted us to be in love.

But maybe it was just too late for that.

I was interrupted from my thoughts by the rasp of a knock on the door, my head shot up as I momentarily forgot where I was and what I was doing. Clearing my throat, I called out a response, listening closely for their retort over the loud pattering of the shower. It was Isaac. He was telling me Mandy stopped by to drop something off for me. 

I didn't respond to him, and my guess is Isaac walked away after waiting for me to say something to him. I could care less at this point. 

Still, I decided it was time to step out of the shower at that point, the water slowly turning more and more cold with each passing minute. Wrapped in the comfort of my robe, I stood in front of the fogged up mirror, taking a moment to fully take in my appearance. There was a slight puffiness to my eyes, my lips chapped from how much I chewed on them that evening, my cheeks flushed from the heat of the shower. I didn't look good.

A sigh of discontent slipped past my lips as I looked away from my reflection. Pushing the image to the back of my head, I proceeded with my nightly routine. I was untwisting the cap of my facemask when I took a moment to pause, the charcoal clay staring back at me. My bottom lip began to tremble the longer I stared down at it, my head pounding with a single memory begging to be relived. My fingers curled around the countertop, eyes squeezing shut as a cry left my lips.

I could hear his wince as a smile tugged at my lips, my fingers gently pulling at the bottom of the dried up face mask. "Vee, don't be so rough," he whined, fingers curled around my hips as a means of dealing with the pain.

"Tom, I've barely done anything," I snickered, shifting closer to the boy as my fingers tucked beneath the face mask. "Maybe you shouldn't have applied such a thick layer if you didn't want it to hurt so bad."

"I get it, I'm an idiot," he muttered. His eyes unscrewed themselves shut, meeting mine with a pleading look. "Just make this quick, please."

My teeth sunk into my bottom lip at that, nodding gently in response to plea. I mouthed a countdown to him before pulling the mask up in one fluid motion, a yelp escaping Tom at the pain of the movement. My lips fell into a pout as his head fell to my shoulder, hand going to run through his unruly curls. 

"Awww, are you okay?"

"No," he mumbled, forehead pressing against my neck. "That hurt like a bitch, Vee." He lifted his head finally, small spots of black still scattered around his face, his now smooth face. 

I chortled. "You'll get over it. Your skin looks great now."

It fell silent between us after that, Tom still recovering from the sudden pain of the removal, while I watched with the ghost of a smile resting on my lips. I suddenly became aware of just how close we were now, his arms wrapped around my waist completely as he'd pulled me closer to hide in my neck. Our fronts were pressed against each other, my arms carelessly thrown over his shoulders, finger still twirling a lock around it. I sucked in a harsh breathe when he suddenly met my eyes, his lips quirking up as he caught me already looking at him.