Tom and Will could not be more different. While Will earns millions staring in big silver screen blockbusters, Tom is shackled to a mundane existence. How they found each other is a mystery, even to them. The only thing remaining in their strained r...
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Tom stood on the other side of the glass. He wrung his hands as the knot formed in his chest.
She was crying, hands trying to hold her down. She was struggling, yelping and writhing on the cold, metal table. Her floppy ears swung with her head as she whipped from the vet to the nurse, threatening to hop over the nurse's shoulder.
Despite the turbulent relationship he had with her, he hated watching her this way; the sounds of her yelps were deafening.
"We need help calming her down."
Tom barely heard the nurse.
"We can't draw blood for tests if she won't stay still."
Tom glanced to the nurse. He felt another tear trickle down the tracks on his cheeks. He shrugged helplessly. "I don't think I'll be much help." He flinched when she yelped again, cries turning into loud, resounding barks. "I can never calm her down."
The nurse pulled on a rigid but sympathetic smile. "But maybe if she sees you? If you could just stand nearby so she's not alone?"
No doubt Tom's silence was a harsh answer, and the nurse left in response to return behind the glass before him.
He wouldn't be much help in calming her down. She was always difficult with him. It always felt like she had some sort of vendetta against him. He didn't know why. He fed her. He walked her. He treasured her like a child. He drove her to the vet hospital at eleven o'clock at night for her. He did all this for her only to get bites, barks and distance. What was there left to give? She'd drained him of everything he had.
Tom slumped down into a chair in the waiting room. He raked his hands through his hair before burying his face in his palms. He didn't look up again until he heard the sound of the entrance door opening and clicking shut.
"Tom?"
Tom straightened when he shrugged off his jacket and sat down next to him.
There'd always been something about Will that drew Tom to him. Perhaps it was the black hair always perfectly styled that felt so airy between his fingers. Perhaps it was chocolate eyes that brightened in the morning and darkened in the evening, that stirred caged butterflies in his chest. Or the way his hands seemed to fit into his, his fingers perfectly interlocking with his, magnets snapping together. But despite his money-making looks, it had always been Will's aura that drew Tom to him. That he found solace in his presence. He still did, even after six months apart.
But that was enough time to hate him too. To resent his good looks that secured him a partner too quickly. To despise the way his close existence made him feel now.
"Where is she?" Will asked, ripping off his scarf. He didn't look like he did in his perfectly shot Instagram photos or an Oscar prospect tonight. He looked dishevelled, his black hair windswept and growing bags under his eyes. "What happened?"
