Tom Holland X Reader - The Journey We Call Life

Chapter 23 - Trust Your Gut

You gazed into his mesmerizing eyes, expecting him to ask a simple "what's wrong" just as he had done earlier.

Instead, a rigorous attitude had slipped his lips as he said his next words.

"What are you hiding?"
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{Tom's POV}
|First Person|

I didn't know what to think. Honestly, how could I? She was always dodging my questions, acting suspicious and checking her phone. It could be a myriad of things that was going on, but I hadn't the slightest clue on any of them.

"W-What?" Her head immediately shot up, her jaw dropping at the force of my words.

"You're on your phone all of the time, and acting weird whenever I catch you doing so. I like to think that we're friends, but you're being sketchy and hiding some sort of information from me, that much is obvious. So what? Are you a Hollywood reporter in disguise or something? A crazed fan gathering information for Wattpad?" I sighed. A little time passed and she just stayed silent. Nevertheless, I continued, "Look, (Y/N), I'm not trying to call you out in any way, or make you feel bad. If you are one of those things, then, I don't know, it's just hard being a celebrity. Everyone only knows you because of what you do on TV, and it's hard to find real friends who aren't just using you for fame. It's hard to find friendly people out there who know you're an actual person too. Not just some 'famous, hot, gorgeous actor'."

"It's not that," she mumbled quietly, "I wouldn't do that to you."

"Then what is it?" I tugged at our intertwined fingers, hoping for an answer.

"Do you really want to know?" She looked up/straight into my eyes with hers, the same sadness from before seeping back in her (E/C) irises, which shined against the mall lights.

"Of course." My voice had a more softer attitude, getting a feeling that she needed it. I didn't know why.

{YOUR POV}
|Second Person|

He pulled at your hands, which you forgot were still being held. When you looked at him, he seemed like he actually cared, and you felt safe. You really wanted to tell him.

It wouldn't be the first time, you reminded yourself, memories flooding your brain like the tsunami in The Impossible. But this was different.

You looked down at your phone, struggling to keep your face content before back at Tom.

"Do you really want to know?" You asked.

"Of course." After hearing his voice, the object in your hand said a "DING" of its own and worst-case scenarios flowed through your anxiety-ruled mind since you never got to finish typing to Juli "what will blow up that involves Ryan and Betty" because honestly it could be a signing of a restraining order and there would be a part of you that blames yourself for not being there to protect them. Your teary eyes refused to meet his as you tried to stop ranting in your thoughts, so instead you just started talking, not knowing where it would lead to.

"Okay, so...itallstartedwhenIgotacallfromsomeMarvelguynamedPercywhotoldmethatIwasgoingtogetanintershiphere,right,andIdid,Igotaplaneticket,packed,andcametoLondon,thenImetyouguysandkindofforgotaboutmyfamilyforalittlewhileuntilthedayyouhostedyourparty,andrememberthatIhadtostepoutforaphonecall,yeah,well,thathappenedtobemydadwhohadgottenintomyhouse. NowkeepinmindthatIhaventseenmyfathersinceIwasreallylittlebecauseheleftusforhissecondfamily,thatgavemesomstrustissues,yet,notthepoint. Whati'msayingisthathe'sbackandhe'sdoingsomebadthingstothepeoplethatIcareaboutbackhomeandIcantdoanythinhaboutitbecauseimhere,withyou. Apparently,mymomisgoingtostartsomethinglegallythatmightgiveherandmysiblingasomemajorproblemsbutIcantprotectanyofthemasi'mbeinguselessinthemiddleofamallandIwanttodosomethinganditsucksnotknowingeverythingthatshappeningormydad'sintentionsbutIcantriskthisinternship. They'lljustreplacemeandIreallyneedittobeadirectorbutIcantputmyselfbeforemyfamily," you said, your voice cracking at the last sentence as you couldn't keep anything in anymore and just let the tears stream down your red face. You continued, "andithurtsbecausethey'vealwayscountedonme,andnowidontknowwhattodo,okay? I can't do anything. Mydadwasthestartofalotofhorriblethingshappeninginmylifebuthe'sbackandprobablygoingtomakeitshitformysiblingsandmymom. Don't get me started on her. She'sbeenthroughsomuchtryingtoprotectusfrompainandsheneverreallywasgoodatitbutshetriedandnow'smychancetoreturnthefavorandshowthatIcarebutimbeingselfishandstayinghereuntilIcometoadecisionbutIhavenoonetotalktoaboutthisanditsjustmakingeverythingharderbecauseivewantedtotellyoubutwemetlikeaweekagoandhonestlyIwouldntblameyouforjudginghowmessedupmylifeis,andyes,idorealizehowunrealisticitsoundsbutalthoughIhatetoadmitit, I need help. I can't do this by myself and I don't know where everything went wrong, I mean suddenly my dad is some sort of serial killer level liar? He's got a knife covered in blood and did something, yet nothing to my mom? He made Betty so scared that she had to call me, it just doesn't make sense and I can't figure it out and I can't keep them safe."

You stopped to breathe, finally, and you probably had drenched myself in salty tears but it didn't matter because you were getting it out. Sure, you couldn't exactly scream in anger and frustration but telling someone was definitely something new.

"I really only got the last part, but you're crying and that's not usually good, so I'm going to give you a hug now because I don't know what else to do but you can keep talking if you want, I don't...know," he stammered, walking closer and putting one hand on your waist while the other was on the back of your head. You quickly let out an "okay" before allowing your head to rest on his shoulder. "A-and it's not that I'm trying to be insensitive, because I'm not, you just-I mean I expected something different, like some sort of James Bond super-spy."

"Well, you have a vivid imagination, I'll give you that," you said, laughing through your embarrassment. "But, I'm no top-level government secret agent, I'm just me."

He kept his hand on your head, slowly stroking your hair as you just stood in a comfortable silence. It was comfortable to you, at least, but you couldn't speak for Tom.

You didn't have much time to worry about what he thought anyway because a feeling that someone was watching made your gut start to feel weird, like something bad was about to happen. At first you thought that it was maybe Zendaya or Harrison or someone, but when you looked, you saw them picking their final outfit choice. "They're almost done," you commented to Tom, pointing to Jacob and Steph, who were beginning to walk towards the fitting rooms.

He dropped his hand and removed the other from your waist, looking at you. "Yeah, I guess we should go help them," he said, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, I guess we should," you added, wiping your tears away in one swift action and also fixing you hair/glasses/posture/face/smile quickly too. (You can just pick whichever one)

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"Okay, so Z and Steph will go to the changing room first while Harrison and Jacob turns around," Tom explained, making them face the opposite direction.

Once you were sure they wouldn't peak, the girls got out from behind a clothing rack with whatever they were going to wear and made a run for the Woman's fitting rooms.

"All good!" I yelled, indicating that the boys could then be able to go in their rooms.

You sighed, walking over to Tom, who was standing in the middle of both changing rooms.

He gave one of his sly side-smirks as he spoke.

"Wanna bet?"

~End of Chapter Twenty-Three~

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