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youandtom · 3 years

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EXcape to the Countryside

Tom Holland X Reader

Summary: ‘Much like the majority of the general population in their teens and twenties, love and heartbreak are two very common, but dangerous, side effects of life that hit you hard. You ended your last relationship on a bitter note. Anger, frustration and hatred had boiled off whatever it was that brought you together and it eventually tore you apart. He left you hanging on an unanswered question for years and as much as you were desperate to figure out why things ended, you chose to forget about him. Hate him. Loathe him. All because he ended such a beautiful thing. You hoped to never see him again. But, of course, fate had other plans…’

Themes: fluff, angst, enemies to lovers, ex to lovers, eventual smut, break up/make up

a/n: Ah! first fic! also first series! omg! Enjoy! Please! cos I will swallow myself if you don’t :) Plz be kind. I’m not new to fic writing just new to T.H. fic writing but anyway hope you enjoy :)

Chapter 1 (10.2K) Chapter 2 (10.8K) NSFW Chapter 3 (3.3K)

For as long as you've lived, you've felt that life has had a personal vendetta against you, that favouritism, or lack thereof, has trapped you in a permanent state of bad luck. You have no idea why...perhaps because you used all your luck to cheat death escaping that car crash when you were 8. Or maybe because you said something mean to Martin in school, and a very vengeful karma has followed you every step of the way. Or simply, by the ignorance of others, that's just how life goes.

Yes, your outlook on life certainly isn't one of an optimist, but why should you care? Your luckless past is one of the most quintessential pieces of evidence that proves that your outlook shouldn't be anything different.

Much like the majority of the general population in their teens and twenties, love and heartbreak are two very common, but dangerous, side effects of life that hit you hard. You ended your last relationship on a bitter note. Anger, frustration and hatred had boiled off whatever it was that brought you together and it eventually tore you apart. He left you hanging on an unanswered question for years and as much as you were desperate to figure out why things ended, you chose to forget about him. Hate him. Loathe him. All because he ended such a beautiful thing. You hoped to never see him again.

But, of course, fate had other plans…

"WE WON!" your flatmate, Lola, screams announcing her delight about winning a competition that she and her friend, Harrison, had been put in for. The prize was an all-inclusive weekend away in Cornwall where they, and two others of their choosing, would reside in a beautiful chalet located just by the seaside. The weather has been really good recently, so it's perfect timing to travel to the coast.

"Congratulations!" You fail to hide the snide jealousy in your voice. How come she wins everything?! She gives you a very motherly scornful look and you, the child, stand there unfazed.

"Would it kill you to say congratulations and actually mean it for once? Jeez, I was actually going to ask you to come with me but-“

"No, hey, c'mon, of course I'll come. You know me, I just never have luck with things like these.”

"Yeah I know..." she concurs. "But still, can you at least pretend a little better?”

You stifle a laugh and approach her open arms, all jokes aside. "I am happy for you, I know how much that project meant to you.”

"Yeah, worked our arses off and got a collective total of 5 hours of sleep between us. Anyhow, I'm sure Harrison's just as glad. We agreed that if we won we would each take a friend with us so it would seem less of a...y'know, romantic getaway-" you smirk, "which is NOT what this is, okay?" Her finger is pointed. She's serious.

She and Harrison have an on-off-kind-of-but-not-really sort of thing going on and have for the last few months since they started working together. They have their moments, to say the least, but neither of them are willing to subject themselves to their feelings just yet. You, however, are as single as can be. Your last relationship took everything out of you, so you're embracing single life as if it is a privilege because God knows that's what it seemed like when you were in a relationship.

"Who is he bringing?”

"I don't know, haven't really met his friends and I doubt he would take his sister," she mutters.

"Let's just hope it's someone tolerable.”

~~~~

Friday eventually comes round. Work grants you an early finish and the much-anticipated weekend away finally arrives. It's been agreed that everyone would rendezvous at the chalet. Being that you live together, there's no extra journey required to pick anyone up so you arrive first with plenty of time to appreciate the view before you. And what a view it is; the very sizeable two-storied chalet looks beautifully rustic with its entirely wooden architecture, perfectly complemented by the natural scenery that surrounds it. The aged wooden exterior poses as a facade for the modern and contemporary twist revealed only once you step inside. The living space had been adapted to provide the most advanced amenities and pleasures of the 21st century. It's like nothing you've ever seen before.

"This looks amazing! And this was all free, yeah?" you comment.

"Yeah, all expenses paid and..." she runs over to the Smeg fridge hidden in the corner of the kitchen, "a complimentary bottle of Prosecco, courtesy of the charity we helped." She reveals a decadent, and rather expensive bottle, handling it very precariously as she pretends to chug it. It won't be long before she'll actually be doing that.

"Leave some for me, eh?”

Harrison's voice enters the room dragging behind a mountain of luggage that has him stumbling over his feet. He's exactly how you remember him; the very tall, blue-eyed beauty that you once met at the doorstep of your flat. It's a face you can't forget. Lola not-so-majestically canters over to him and engulfs him in a hug that is guaranteed to send the two of them crashing to the floor.

"WE WON!”

"I know!" He sweeps her off her feet and effortlessly swings her round and round: just the very proof that shows they really do have something for each other. It's almost endearing how they behave around each other, almost youthful. You used to be like that. The feeling is so unfamiliar now…

"You guys already know each other." You and Harrison greet one another. "So who did you bring?”

"Oh, my friend. He's out getting his stuff, I'll go and get him.”

He wanders back out and ever so faintly, you hear him yell a name that tugs at your heartstrings. And not in a good way.

“Tom!"

Oft. That hurt. Your ex was called Tom, and no offence to this guy but you have a strongly-felt prejudice against people called Tom simply for that reason. But you never know. Maybe he's nicer than your ex, maybe he's better than your ex, maybe he can remove your bias against that name and the horrible connotations that come with it.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!”

Or he maybe he is your ex.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" you shout back, anger bubbling at the very sight at him. "You've got to be fucking joking me," this time this was to yourself. How can this happen? Out of literally anyone, Tom just had to be friends with Harrison. Of course! Because that's just your luck.

"Wait...you guys know each other?" Harrison asks, both his and Lola's face in a complete state of shock and confusion and everything in between.

"She's my ex. Don't tell me we're going to have to spend whole trip together..." he spits.

"Ugh, that's rich coming from you. You're the arsehole here. You were too much of a coward that you couldn't even break up with me face-to-face. So why don’t you just shit out it like you did last time and leave.”

In your peripheral, Harrison and Lola stand there completely disregarded by both you and Tom. It's almost comical how their heads swing from side to side like watching a tennis match, eagerly waiting to see what witty comeback you would respond with.

"You think I care about something like that? I mean, I probably would've if I actually loved you. Who could?”

You could physically feel the pain from that bomb Tom just dropped. You think even Harrison and Lola felt the repercussions of such a verbal attack as a hushed 'too far, man' mumbles in Harrison's baritone voice. You pick up the broken pieces of your heart, swallow the heavy lump in your throat and make an attempt to ease your strained muscles, desperately fighting the urge to punch him in the face.

"Fine. Have it your way.”

Despite every word that just came out of his mouth, the one thing that troubles you more is the look of shock in his eyes caused by his own words. That Freudian slip was more than he intended to say, that's clear enough, but to use such revulsion to the extent that he surprised himself defines your decision to leave. You just can't be here.

Quickly, you look for any direction, preferably one that would take you away from here, and simply walk away. It leads you outside where the chilling wind hits your tear stained face. Not that you were paying any attention; your mind is diseased by his words, crippled by the embarrassment he caused you, and damaged by emotional trauma.

He never loved you.

You've always talked about your relationship with Tom as though no one should ever endure what you did, and sometimes you even convince yourself that that's what you truly think. But in reality, he was really the best thing that could've happened to you. He showed you what you really deserved: to feel loved. He taught you to realise that not everything in life is out to get you and for a while...you were hopeful. However, so very sadly the only good thing in your life had ended. It was most likely something you did, but drowning in denial, you passed the blame onto Tom because you just couldn't accept having another bad thing happen to you. You wanted Tom to be at fault so much just so you could tell yourself that you weren't bad luck. Making excuses was the only plausible way you saw fit to avoid adding your car crash of a break-up to the list of bad things that has happened in your life. You just wanted one 'good thing' to last.

Well, now the only 'good thing' in your life means nothing...because he never even loved you in the first place.

You approach the cliff, the edge in sight and appearing ever so enticing. Your next decision remains unclear, but if one thing's for certain, it's that you will not tolerate having Tom being in the same room as you. And so, by the power of deduction, you find that your only option is to leave.

Voices erupt from the chalet behind you, and from what you can hear it's the two distinctive, baritone voices of Tom and Harrison. Before you could eavesdrop, Lola perches herself beside you wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"Harrison's making Tom apologise.”

“Why?"

"Because no one should be told that they aren't loved.”

"I don't want his love. Or his apology.”

"But nevertheless it's what you deserve.”

You sigh and wipe away any remaining tears. It's for definite that you're going to have to wait a while before you face him again. But what's the point; however and whenever he apologises you know it's because he's being forced, and not because he means it.

There's a soothing breeze on your face as it dries the tears away. Both you and Lola repose in the sunset's orange glaze and the view seems to elicit a long sigh from both your lips.

"So that's him, then," Lola asks. "The Ex. You never did mention his name…"

"Yep. That's him. In all his arrogant glory." You remember telling Lola about him on a girls night in. It was one of the first few nights together since you had moved in and getting drunk in your pyjamas seemed like a good idea to get to know each other more. As girls' discussions go, it found itself on the topic of relationships. You only briefly mentioned Tom because bad memories prevented you from rambling your life away and let slip the full article, and instead you spent most of your time listening to Lola's stories. Even talking about him seemed like a dagger twisting in your heart.

"He seems like a prick. No wonder you broke up.”

"He wasn't always like that," you defend. For yourself, not Tom. You don't want Lola to think you would willingly chose to go out with an arsehole. Give yourself some dignity.

"He was sweet. He genuinely cared. Life with him was...fun. He knew how to make me feel special..." you sigh. Good memories flash through your mind until the Bad One hits you like a slap to the face. "But I guess it doesn't matter because he hates me now." As the words let loose, another wave of tears form. The pain's too much. Being here is too much. "I don't know why I'm getting so hung up on it honestly. He's just some stupid ex who'll do and say anything to show he hates me." Lola stays quiet, eyes front and body still.

"So why are you getting hung up on it…"

"What? I just said I don’t-"

"Maybe he isn't just 'some ex', I mean you guys broke up a long time ago right?"

"What's your point?" you ask precariously in fear of what she's insinuating.

"My point is that you're still affected by him even after all these years which just shows that he is in no way just 'some ex', that if you really didn't care about what he said, you wouldn't have reacted the way you did. I think you still feel something-"

"Lola!" you shout, "don't even go there."

"Tom was the only ex you ever talked about-"

“Stop-"

"I mean, I get it. Things were good between you, you were happy and you loved him...maybe you still do," she queries. Your blood's beginning to boil.

"LOLA!"

"Well look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong!"

You do look at her, right into her eyes, and with every intention you want to say the words. They are there waiting to be said not only to convince her but to convince yourself. Although something stops you. Your conscience will not allow you to lie to yourself about something like this and your lips remained sealed. Come on! Why is it so hard?

What if...what if she's right?

~~~~

The voices dimmer down inside and before you settle on the decision to go back inside, you compose yourself and put on your mask. It's strong, concrete. Almost placid. If, and only, should the opportunity arise and the situation is desperate will you then sort out your differences. The less he knows the better. For now, you will ignore him at all costs. Besides, it shouldn't be too hard if he'll be trying his darndest to avoid you.

It took Lola a while to convince you to stay and go back inside but a few rules had to be put into place. With the recent discussion unveiling a few sensitive thoughts, you and Lola concurred to not divulge in your feelings towards Tom and to keep them behind closed curtains for the time being.

Making your way to the chalet you realise there's nothing you want more than to hop into Lola's car and drive home yourself, having a shameless disregard for Lola and the sticky situation you would be leaving her in. Drawing nearer and nearer, you eventually grant the uncertainty of the near future the benefit of the doubt, and walk straight past the car.

The chalet is quiet when you walk inside aside from the distant cries of seagulls cracking through the open window dispersing the silence. Harrison and Tom seem to be in separate rooms. You and Lola share cautious looks unknowing to how their conversation ended, nevertheless you grab ahold the doorknob of the main living area and walk right in…

Fortunately for you, you find Harrison, and not Tom, scrolling through his phone seemingly already helping to himself to a bottle of beer.

"Hey," Lola says, sitting down beside him. "You alright?"

"Yeah I'm perfectly fine. More to the point, are you alright, love?" He leans over to you, catching your glare as he invites you into the conversation.

You sigh. "Yeah I am now, thanks. Did he say anything after I…" don't say stormed off, "left?"

"I asked him to apologise but he wasn't for having it. Tried to explain himself but I couldn't give a shit, just thought he should've-"

"It's alright, Haz, thanks though. I mean we went out ages ago, I'm sure I'll survive."

Harrison gives you a sweet smile before connecting his phone to the speaker and wrapping an arm around Lola.

"Right. Enough of that. Tom can have some thinking time to himself. Get yourselves a drink ladies, we deserve it."

For the rest of the night, the main event of today was left aside as was Tom. The three of you drank and conversed until midnight ticked on and the alcohol was slowly putting you to sleep. You're thankful that you didn't have to face Tom, at least not for the remainder of the night, for now you have until tomorrow to build your defences against him. Who knows how things will turn out...

An early sunrise appears through the almost transparent drapes and lightens the room. You awake to loneliness just like you have been for that last few years, greeting it as an old friend. You don't quite remember how and when you retired to your bed last night: the celebrations must've escalated further than you expected. Although you have a sneaking suspicion that Lola and Harrison's success wasn't the sole reason for your reckless drinking. Nonetheless, you're just glad you didn't end up sleeping on the floor.

The smell of food eases you out of bed and tempts you towards the kitchen. Changing into the bare minimum with just a pair of pyjama shorts and t-shirt you hop down the stairs following the delicious smell, now partnered with the irresistible sound of bacon frying. Without a second thought as to who is in the kitchen, you chase the tempting smell and march right in.

"Who's cooking because it smells am-"

You stop yourself when you see Tom tending to the food upon the cooker. After spending last night not sparing Tom a single thought you almost forgot he was here. It's just him in the kitchen and you suddenly find that your appetite has vanished. You're not sure what to do with yourself now; it's too late to pretend you aren't here but you don't have anything to say to him. Tom peers over his shoulder and stares at you lurking by the door, eyes cutting through the tension and maintaining the silence just long enough to convince you that your presence is no longer welcome.

So this is how it's gonna be, huh? Just going to stare each other out before one of us leaves? Great! Ideal! Fantastic! Just what I wanted.

Tom turns his attention back to the food as he serves it up onto a plate and sets it on the table beside the hot mug of tea.

"Your breakfast. I've had mine."

"Uh..."

He struts past you colliding his shoulder with yours. Intentional, you notice. That message was clear enough. However spiteful it may be, you move past it and sit down to enjoy the breakfast made for you, probably made with a hint of resentment, no doubt, but nevertheless it's still enjoyable. Even the tea is made the way you like it. He remembered…

Satisfied, you go in search of your best friend who, without a shadow of a doubt, will be wherever Harrison will be. It seems that the ever-growing romance developing between Lola and Harrison compensates for the amassed bitterness that you and Tom bring to the chalet. As you approach the main living area the murmuration of voices become louder and louder. But you stop. There's one more voice than you were expecting to find.

"It's been like this since we broke up."

"And do you want it be like that?"

"No! Of course not."

"So what're you gonna do about it then?"

"I don't know, tell her the truth? Nah, I'll figure it out. I'm going for a shower."

The truth?

Before you have a second to yourself, Tom emerges through the door and comes face to face with you. Well rather chest to face. Ignorant of the fact that he knows you were eavesdropping, he purses his lips and draws daggers before once again brushing past you and skipping up the stairs. His close, but confrontational, proximity has your heart fluttering ever so slightly. But why? Excitement from how close he was? Adrenaline because he caught you listening in? Boiling anger that's causing your heart rate to spike? Who knows.

Just ignore him. Move on.

You take the opportunity to walk in greeting both Lola and Harrison with a face of confusion.

"What was that about?"

It was Lola to answer first. "Y'know, Tom being Tom," she says. What the fuck does that mean?

"He's being really weird. Yesterday we argued, but this morning he makes me breakfast. I don't understand-"

"Maybe he's just trying to make it up to you," in buts Harrison, his words tumbling over themselves. "Maybe he's just not ready to say it just yet..."

Confused, you scowl at him, wondering why he's so quick to explain Tom's actions. He argued with him too, didn't he? Why is he being so defensive? It was only yesterday that Tom clearly demonstrated how adamant he was about refusing to apologise, and it hurt. So what happened in the space of 14 hours that made him change and go through the effort of making you breakfast? He knows you can cook. He knows you are more than capable of feeding yourself, so why bother?

Maybe you're overthinking this...

You hold onto the thought and keep it to yourself, giving up on the conversation at hand.

"Whatever. Anyway, what's on the agenda?"

"Well, we thought we could maybe take a trip into town and have lunch, go a walk along the coast, take a dip, then after, we can watch the sunset," Lola explains, looking to Harrison for confirmation, "you up for it?"

Here's a hint: when Lola says 'maybe' she means 'definitely' and you don't have any other option.

But what if Tom goes?

"Um, all of us?"

"We were hoping so..."

"Er...sure. Sounds good. I'll...I'll just go and...get ready." You force a smile and trudge to your room. Great. Nowhere to run now Tom, looks like you're going to be stuck with me for the rest of the day whether you like it or not.

As soon as you reach the top of the landing, out comes a post-shower Tom with water still dripping down his skin and his towel wrapped around his waist. You manage to contain a silent ‘fuck’ as your eyes fall upon the chiseled muscles decorating his torso, droplets of water falling from his brown curls kiss his skin. He’s clearly seen the sun. His golden skin glows, basking in the post-shower heat. You admit, it’s a holy sight in itself and would have mouths watering in an instant but your resentment is overpowering. You refuse to acknowledge how shocked you are of the physical changes he’s went through since you last saw him like this. Triggered, your mind casts itself back to the intimate moments you once shared with him, naked, bare, skin on skin as you lay in each other’s arms…

Don’t even go there…

You both stop, waiting to see who would be the first to make their move and make way for the other, but it seems that a constant stubborn argument of 'no, you move' prevents either of you from doing so.

Having enough, Tom sighs and in a swift movement coils his hands around your arms, forcibly moving you out his path. Your nose barely skims his bare chest and the warmth of his skin ironically chills you. His tense touch passes through your muscles and you become rigid, frozen in the disbelief that a) he touched you, and b) actually had the audacity to move you out of his way.

Dumbfounded, all you can do is scoff as he skips up the remaining stairs and disappears into his bedroom, the towel clinging onto his waist for dear life.

"What a child," you find yourself muttering as you enter the bathroom.

The hot steam still lingering in the air has you hot and bothered and you can barely keep a thought to yourself. Frustrated, you force the window open and perch yourself onto the window sill, eyes fixated on the vast sun kissed fields not too far from the chalet.

Before you arrived, it was so hard to remember how much you loved Tom during your relationship. Deliberately blocked from your memory, the days spent with him are clouded with ignorance and very quickly the memory of him faded too. You were over him, you moved on, the idea of loving him seemed distant. But seeing him now after years apart, it's becoming harder to forget. The clouds are dispersing and the sun is coming through.

Your eyes catch a small bundle of clothes in the corner. They're his clothes.

You approach the bundle of clothes, delicately picking up his t-shirt and examining it. Nothing can stop you bringing it close to you, inhaling him and letting the nostalgia flood your mind. He still smells the same.

This is weird. Stop this. You can't be doing this, you hate him remember?!

Coming back to your senses, you discard his clothes and go for your shower. But it's only when you exit the shower that your brain spawns a new thought…

You should take his clothes to him.

No! Don't be stupid, he's responsible for his own belongings. He doesn't need you tidying up after him.

But he made you breakfast, he didn't need to do that!

And you don't need to be delivering his clothes back!

You're doing something nice, at least then it won't be as awkward between you.

You find yourself at his bedroom door with his clothes in hand. Apparently you had made a decision before you even finished the argument. Well you're here now, may as well go through with it.

Anxiously, you chap his door and with his permission you enter his room. His eyes draw daggers but you don't acknowledge them given that it's the only way he's looked at you since the moment he stepped through the front door. The air is thick and hard to swallow, but nevertheless your voice breaks through.

"You...um, you left your clothes in the bathroom."

From the opposite end of the room he approaches you, looming over your being with bemusement. He challenges your motives but nonetheless he gratefully takes back his clothes, hands brushing over yours.

"Thanks."

They don't stay with him very long as he turns round and carelessly throws them onto his bed, all before he whips back around to face you, just as close as before. So close in fact that you can detect his breath sweeping across your features.

You notice his hand perched upon the door giving your cue to leave.

"And...y'know, thanks for...breakfast." That rebel eyebrow perks up, but stays quiet. Having nothing more to say from either end of the conversation, you take your leave and awkwardly stumble to your room.

“Wait..."

A week ago, you couldn't have possibly imagined the probability of being stood here, drenched with a measly towel hanging around your chest, in confrontation with your ex-boyfriend. But alas, here you are, frozen on the spot just eagerly waiting to hear what Tom has to say next.

"Look, I know I reacted...badly yesterday and I know that it was maybe uncalled for-“

“Maybe?"

"Alright, alright. It was uncalled for," he admits, albeit spitefully but it still gives you the closure that you were seeking. "So...I-I'm sorry."

Tom knows he was being unreasonable: he screamed to the world that he never loved you. Embarrassed you within the inch of your life and broke everything in between your dignity and self-esteem, butchered your reputation, then have the cheek to say that it was maybe uncalled for! Absolutely not.

Although you deserved an apology from his part, there's still something inside of you that regrets reciprocating his abhorrence. Maybe it's your guilty conscience that you've been battling with since you got here because it was your denial after the breakup that sparked his hatred for you. You blamed everything on him, of course he was going to be angry.

"Yeah. Me too," you sigh. There's an anticipating silence. It seems that neither of you want to leave the conversation, but there is nothing left to rectify.

"Do...do you think that...we can forget about it? We're gonna have to put up with each other for the rest of this trip, I mean...it'll just be easier for the both of us," he mutters diplomatically. Hesitation stops you for a brief moment, considering all the possibilities for Tom's new offer. What would 'putting up with each other' entail?

Probably something better than the situation as it stands.

"Yeah, I suppose," you concur, "but this doesn't change anything after we leave this stupid place, alright?" By this point, Tom has already made his retreat back into his room.

"Why would I want it to?" He quips.

Bastard.

~~~~

"I heard you and Tom made up."

Walking down to the coast, the four of you, however sectionally and very unlike the collective group you should be, decide to indulge in the sun's warm rays. You have disbanded yourself and left following the footsteps of your friends. It's only when Lola notices your absence that she takes the opportunity to gossip about you and Tom's treaty.

"Who said that?"

"Harrison. Well at least that's what Tom told him. So are you friends now?!" she says a little too eagerly for your liking.

"We didn't 'make up' we..." think, think, think! "Accepted our differences...for a lack of a better term. Doesn't make us friends." Lola heeds your answer, thankful that she doesn't challenge it.

Ahead of you, you see both Tom and Harrison walking together, observing how they get along like two peas in a pod. Well, you guess they made up quick. Watching Tom be so animated is completely unfamiliar since his attitude towards you is nothing but stiff and ignorant. Part of you relishes the fact that you are one step closer to civility, but then again, you have to put a line in the sand: one too many steps and your feelings may manifest to a point where your unfortunate luck could strike again, knowing how it did the last time...

"Does he think we're friends?" You cautiously ask. Lola shrugs, her eyes sink to the ground and very little words pass her lips. She's hiding something, for sure. "Lola." She's avoidant of eye contact, she's never been good with confrontation. "What are you not telling me?" You're beginning to become impatient now.

"He wants to be friends with you, alright? He does, and he's been gushing to us about how much he hates being hated by you and wishes you could just get along! He's a lovesick puppy can't you see?"

"Hated by me?! Is he taking the piss? He was the one who came to the chalet guns blazing, telling me he never even cared for me and he wants to be friends?! Lola, you can't seriously be taking his side on this, I mean, ask yourself how I could ever be friends with someone who can't stand to even be in the same room as me."

"You said so yourself! You still have feelings for him, don't you?" Fuck, you forgot you slipped that information to her but nevertheless, you had made your intentions clear. Your feelings were never to be divulged.

"No. Maybe. Somewhere, but it's not the same. It's never going to happen. It's history."

"Well...maybe not..." she quietly mumbles.

"What do you mean?"

She stops walking and turns to you, creating even more distance between you and Tom.

"Okay but please don't kill me," she grabs your hands in a reassuring grip although it doesn't help, you are feeling anything but reassured. "Last night, when we were celebrating-"

"Yes?"

"Y'know, we had quite a bit to drink, all of us did, only you went to bed earlier-"

"So?"

"So...Harrison and I stayed up, just talking about things and we hadn't realised how loud we were being. That's when Tom came in, overhearing our conversation. At first it was slightly awkward because of the argument earlier, but we were drunk and we just kept saying things to fill the silence and make it less awkward and one thing led to another..."

"What?"

"We, well I, told him how you feel about him - how you really feel. I'm sorry, but I was slightly tipsy and Tom looked upset about the whole ordeal and it seemed like a good idea-"

"A good idea?! Lola you promised! Look at the mess you've made! I didn't come here to rekindle with my ex, I came here for you!"

How could she? At least it explains why Tom has been acting differently around you but why did she think it was ever going to be a good idea?

"I know! I didn't expect this to happen either! Look, if it helps, Harrison, Tom and I all sat last night just talking and he told us how much he honestly regrets shouting at you like that, and how he wishes he handled it differently. He looked hopeless, I mean seriously hopeless. He looked worse than you-" you shoot her a glare, but you see she's being serious. "-so I told him that if he apologised then all hope wasn't lost and that he might still have a chance to make it up to you and things will be okay between you.”

She might not even realise it herself, but certainly for you things are slowly piecing together. Lola was the one who resurrected your inner feelings for Tom; questioned them, slowly giving rise for them to be apparent once more. She called you out on your shit. You know Lola's a hopeless romantic, playing cupid in disguise who can't resist a good love story. Despite what she says, this getaway gave her the opportunity to complete her own mission, with Harrison of course, and take on one she wasn't anticipating until she got here...

"If you won't hear Tom out, at least hear me out," she starts walking again as Tom and Harrison fall out of sight. You follow suit albeit reluctantly. "Don't you think that maybe it's for the best? I mean you and Tom already seem to be tolerating each other. That's a start right? And don't tell me that you aren't half glad that you are." You shrug. Truth is, you don't actually know. You're too conflicted. "Maybe if you two keep this up, then things might progress."

You can't give her an answer, at least not yet.

"Just think about it. You might even realise that it's what you want." You scoff but she ignores your response and shuffles a little closer to you. "If you ask me, I think it's what you need."

"Hm, we'll see. But don't force things, if it's fate, it will happen naturally," you declare.

"Yeah but we both know what your relationship is like with fate," she chuckles.

"Shut up...oh and Lola?" She turns her head towards you, "is Harrison in on this too?"

Her smile gives it away. Of course she wants it to be a joint effort. Anything to talk, see or be with Harrison. She knows she isn't just doing this for you.

The trip into town didn't seem as daunting at you were expecting it to be. You and Tom kept to yourselves give or take the few instances where you had to interact with each other. You suppose it wasn't hard, at least there wasn't any strenuous effort made to make it easier. It's maybe the reason why you've been starting to think more about what Lola had said about Tom wanting to be friends again, and instead of trying to find ways to avoid him, you're actually starting think of ways to accommodate him.

Woah, reality check. Are you really giving this thought the go-ahead? Seems so.

It's just past noon and the sun is blazing down on the archaic town. You can't deny it's a beautiful day and the bustling atmosphere is what you live for. As you stroll down the cobblestone streets of the old town, you peer in at the shop windows and the marquees taking in the range of different items from delicious home baked breads to hand-crafted, sweet-smelling soaps. Indulging in high spirits, it sets a gentle smile on your lips. It's places like these that remind you of younger times, visiting only to satisfy your mum's strange obsession with strange and vibrant items sold exclusively at marquees such as this. You remember the bracelet she got you; crafted with a delicate thread and beaded with golden letters that spelled out your name. Eight-year-old you loved it to pieces and you mean that quite literally. You were devastated when it broke a few years back, more so because at that time, your mum was no longer with you to take you back and buy you another one.

You miss her dearly.

The memory lures you over to a stall where, behind the counter decorated in bracelets, sits an elderly woman twisting thread into an intricate pattern. She gives you a welcoming nod as you appreciate her works of art.

"You like these things?" Tom's voice brings you from thought. He picks one up with callous hands, handling it very negligently. "Think they're a waste of money to be honest."

"Yes, I do actually," you hiss. "My mum bought me one years ago and I kept it until it broke. Not had one since."

Tom nods apologetically, deciding not to comment any further. He knows how much you miss your mum. At least it's one thing he's remembered from your relationship.

"What one do you like?" He asks. You turn to him, eyebrow raising quizzically. Regardless, you spot a vibrant pink, purple and blue one tied together with a silver infinity symbol. It's eye-catching, yet the detail looks effortless.

"This one. It's nice but I don't have any cash," you hopelessly mumble, placing it back into its display rack. Surprisingly, Tom picks it back up and makes a motion to the woman, who cheerfully accepts the cash handed over by him. Beguiled eyes watch as he then reaches for your hand and neatly ties the bracelet around your wrist.

"There." For the first time in what seems like years, Tom throws you a genuine smile. You almost forgot about the way his eyes twinkle when he smiles, but you also forgot that every time you saw that smile, it made your insides melt.

"Thank you." You would be lying to yourself if you said that his spontaneous act of generosity hasn't changed your mind about him. Swaying more towards favourable thoughts, you perk up at the idea that maybe Lola was right to give this a shot. Maybe this is the start of something promising…

Four of you surround the rectangular table in the centre of the restaurant. You would be thankful if the perimeter was large enough to create at least some space between you and Tom, alas the world hates you and fate has landed you with what might just possibly be the smallest table in the room. Elbows brushing and knees knocking, you're forced to push back every nagging thought about the situation. You promised to be more accommodating, you promised to be more accommodating…

You peer over across the table to see Lola and Harrison in deep discussion, heads sinking low into the menus trying to decide, with great conviction it seems, whether they want pizza with chips or pizza with pasta. 'But if we get chips we'll need to order two portions but if we order a pizza and pasta then we can just half them…'

"Oh dear God," you mutter to yourself, rolling your head around your neck. Your reaction elicits a snigger from Tom, seemingly just as fed up listening to their quarrels as he blankly stares into the space in front of him. It only takes a slight glance to your right to see that Tom is sending you a quizzical brow, jaw tensing with an emotion you can’t quite read. Considering you're being forced to sit inches from him it's not exactly the hardest thing to miss. You may as well be just be rubbing shoulders with each other.

"What you sniggering at?" you mutter, eyes forward.

"Give them time to pick their food.”

"Oh because it's not like you to not be able to make your mind up," you say, a scathing voice leaking through. He turns his head a full 90 degrees with his eyes locked on you, going undetected by Harrison and Lola. You choose to keep your head locked on the pair across from you knowing that if you were to turn your head, your noses would literally brush.

"What's that supposed to mean?”

Accommodating, accommodating, this isn't being accommodating…

"Nothing, doesn't matter." You reach for your glass of water, swallowing not just the water, but the bitter words that were just about to spill from your mouth. "Sorry."

"No, go on. Tell me. You're clearly dying to." Well, if that's what he wishes.

'What kind of pizza are you getting? I don't want anything with mushrooms...'

"We mutually agreed to be civil and nothing more, and now all of a sudden we're friends? What exactly is it you want, Tom, because there's a lot of mixed signals and I can't be bothered trying to figure them out."

"I just want us to get along. Is that so hard to ask?"

'But now I don't know if I even want pizza. What do you think the BBQ ribs are like?'

"I don't know! You told me you never loved me-"

"I never meant that-"

"Didn't you? It's news to me." It's not really, but you know what they say: new clothes are better than hand-me-downs.

'I can't decide. Maybe I should just get the chicken instead...'

"JUST GET PIZZA!" You and Tom both shout across the table. Honestly it didn't need much volume to catch their attention, although you may have caught the attention of the surrounding 5 tables and the waitress behind the counter. The two blithering idiots look up in a state of shock, mouths hanging agape. Awkward looks are thrown across the table before they settle the menus down-

-and immediately start laughing. The four of you find the hilarity in the moment and embrace it as quickly as the heated moment between you and Tom dissipates. You throw him a glance, your eyes saying it all as you convey your apologies and thankfully he catches it, responding likewise with the addition of a playful nudge of his shoulder. And like that, the conversation moves onto something else. You have a funny feeling that the same conversation might find itself back to you eventually, maybe at a better time where you're slightly more level-headed, but yesterday's emotions are still haunting both you and Tom. Now's not the time.

The waitress comes over to the table. You and Tom order your lunch, plain and simple. She then turns to the pair across from you. Lola orders first.

"Um, can I have the spaghetti bolognese?”

"And can I have the chicken wings with the buffalo sauce? Oh, and a side of chips."

~~~~

Lunch goes by rather quickly after the outburst. All the steam was let loose sooner rather than later, and things have seemed to have returned to civility.

So…friends?

The sea's wind brushes upon your features as you inhale the familiar salty scent of the beach. You can't wait to relax, you really deserve it given the stress of the past couple of days. The group sets up point at an empty space near the pier, all four of you settling down your towels and finding repose under the weight of the sun's heat. The boys strip down to their swimming trunks, eyes immediately averting when Tom takes his top off, knowing all too well you can’t trust to keep yourself at bay. Neither can Lola apparently. First glance and she’s shooting you a stern look, easily translated to ‘what the fuck? Your ex-boyfriend is ripped!’

Oh, how you know.

It doesn't take long before you grow curious of the pier above you, and it doesn't take long before your cravings for a chilling ice cream becomes insatiable.

"I'm going to get some an ice cream, anyone want one?”

"Nah," says Lola.

"I'm good, thanks," responds Harrison.

"I'll have one," says Tom. Of course. You catch the quick glance shared between Harrison and Lola, not long before smirks don their faces. Never mind, you promised yourself you would be accommodating so you hold back the eye roll and turn to Tom.

"Okay, what do you want?" Before he even answers the question, he begins to pack his stuff together, just like how you are.

"Don't worry, I'll come with you." Oh, well...alright then. Guess you have no other option.

As you both set off, nerves begin creep up as the thought that this will be the first time you've been alone with him since your relationship nestles into your mind.

The two of you walk along the pier and already you've undermined how long the pier actually is; the end is far beyond what the eye can see which just means more quality time with Tom. What's worse is that the pier’s incredible length gives the uncertainty of the situation the advantage over you. How can you possibly prepare any defences for what could happen?

Initially, you pay no attention to the lack of conversation and instead appreciate the view before you, counting every yacht, ferry and cruise you see in the distance. It doesn't seem to bother you as much as it does Tom because as of right now, he's fighting to find something to say to you.

"I...er..." he starts, but doesn't finish. You let him take his time knowing that if you blurted out the witty comment you're currently holding back, you would be getting your ice cream by yourself. "It's a nice day," he points out. God, this is painful.

"Yeah, it really is."

"Seems familiar though, like I'm getting deja vu," he remarks as he observes his surroundings. You had that same thought too, but you can't place a finger on it..."Oh wait!" he exclaims, "I'm thinking of Brighton Palace Pier. I had went there a long time ago and I had bought myself an ice cream and this fucking seagull flew in and stole it from me," he softly chuckles.

"I know," you mutter, "I was there." That's probably why being on a pier seems so familiar to both of you, and now that he mentions it, the forgotten memory becomes even more lucid. It was your birthday and you and Tom had happily been going out for a couple of months by this point. He treated you to a day at Brighton; the one place you had always wanted to go...and he was the person to take you there.

Despite the happy memory, his smile drops, realising he's brought up the painful past.

"It was quite funny though. You had been looking forward to that ice cream all day." His smile perks up again and the twinkle in his eye suddenly becomes the brightest thing you see. Insides are melting again.

"And you gave me yours," he mutters back. You look down to ground with a modest smile, remembering how happy that made him and clearly he remembers it just as well as you do. The reminiscence of your past feeds your sense of longing, aching to live those times where it seemed like life wasn't out to get you, and all you knew was happiness.

All you knew was Tom.

But he didn't love you.

As you make your way along the pier, the brushing of your hands and the 'accidental' bumping of shoulders starts to become a regular occurrence. Perked up by your recent conversation, Tom's confidence in talking to you manifests and he starts to talk about things you both would have avoided just days before.

"Listen, you know I didn't mean what I said yesterday-“

"Tom we've already settled this-" Don't ruin this.

"But I need you to know that sorry doesn't even begin to cover it. Look-" he pulls you over to the piers edge, overlooking the sea below you. Harrison and Lola simply dots in the distance. "I just wanted to make sure that you know that what I said wasn't true...I did love you.”

"Then why did you say you didn't?" Your voice breaks, thinking back to the most hurtful thing anyone could've said to you.

He sighs, his head sinking low to the ground, frustration already taking its place in the conversation. "I wasn't thinking straight. I had let my frustration get the better of me and I'm sorry. Honestly, if I could go back, I would change it. Everything. I should've been the better man, but I couldn't bring myself to…"

"...to what?”

"To break up with you face to face.”

That was one thing about the end of your relationship with Tom that bothered you the most. You thought he didn't care, you thought that the whole relationship had been for nothing; an act that he simply adopted and was finished with when he sent you that text. You never saw him again after that. What's worse was that you blame yourself for not being good enough for him. You desperately wanted to know how, what and why the relationship fizzled out so suddenly. You sought closure for so long, that was, until you just had to give in and accept that your much-needed closure was just always going to be a stretch too far. Your lack of an explanation left you in denial, followed shortly by the rivalry that stemmed from the break up, which brings you to the current moment in time.

But there's something in the way that he's acting and saying everything that makes you think he's not disclosing something. Something that's bothering him, more so than ever. You always suspected something was amiss in him when he said he didn't love you. The shock in his own eyes, the regret, the shame. Something just didn't add up.

"Tom..." he looks up, glassy eyes meet yours, "why did we break up?”

At first he refuses to answer, all the while your mind is searching for reasons why. Is he embarrassed? Ashamed? Scared?

Or lying, your conscience tells you.

"Please..." you say again, this time you're adamant for his attention, "what are you not telling me?" You even go as far as to place your hand on his arm, gripping it ever so slightly. Years of undisclosed information could all be revealed to you now and with that realisation the familiar feeling of desperation resurfaces.

From what you can remember from your versions of events is that he broke up with you. How could you forget that harrowing text?

~~~~

You decided to spend the rest of your day at home, continuing to work through the relentless number of tasks that your pitiless boss keeps adding to. Instinctively you glance at your phone and still not a word from Tom. It's very unlike him. Wonder what he's up to...

Nevertheless, you direct your working mind to your laptop, setting all distractions aside and keeping them under wraps. Your priority is work. Always has been, always will be.

You love your job. You love your job. You love your jo-wonder why Tom isn't responding to your texts?

Damnit! You clutch your phone bringing it just inches from your face with Tom's name plastered over the screen.

'Hey, you alright? Haven't heard from you, just wondering if you're okay x’

You set your phone down, face down, and anxiously wait for that monotonous alert to ring through your isolated home. With Tom's lack of communication you figure that he might make you wait, uncertain as to how long, but at least he knows you're worried about him.

Much to your surprise, he's quick to respond, but when you look at the message he's sent you, you start to wish he wasn’t...

'I can't do this anymore. Goodbye.’

~~~~

"I...er..." he begins, swallowing a thick lump in his throat, "I never actually wanted to break up with you," he whispers, head sinking in shame.

Shocked doesn't even begin to describe how you're feeling. A whirlwind of thoughts, feelings, anxieties and regret reduces your mind to ashes. Everything you've ever said, thought or believed about Tom could all just be a lie. All these years believing that it was something you said or done, that it was unfortunate luck that made the last few years of your life absolute living hell but in reality, it was never your fault.

And Tom's only just revealed this to you now.

"Wha-" you choke, suddenly finding your throat has gone dry. "What do you mean?”

"I never told you because I didn't have the heart to, and the way you responded actually helped the situation-“

"W-what the fuck are you talking about?!”

"The reason why we broke up was because I had to leave! I knew I was going to be away from you for a long time and I didn't think I was going to be able to cope!" Hopelessly yelling, he sinks his head into his hands, his regret resurfacing. You, on the other hand, don't know what emotion to bring up. Still not fully understanding the situation, you continue to pry.

"Why did you have to leave?”

His wide eyes find themselves latched onto you once more in a desperate plea to end the interrogation, to save him from drowning in the memories he had hoped to leave behind; the ones you wanted to leave behind.

“I landed a major role. But where they wanted me to work at was in America, too far away from where we lived at the time. I...I didn't know what to do! You had your job, your friends, your family, your whole future ahead of you. I didn't want to ruin that for you and make you leave that all behind for me! I wanted you to be happier, even though I might not have liked it, I had to go." Anger bubbles at your core. Every single day you have lived since him has been wasted wrongfully abasing yourself, despite your conscience knowing that there was nothing you could do. It was over. You couldn't fix it and the thought had broken you. But that fire had been put out long ago when you eventually got over him, but now he's only just relit that flame, growing more ferocious than ever before.

In an attempt to bring the fire to a stable condition, you gulp down air, taming the flames.

"You didn't even ask," you lowly hiss, pulling in the reigns of what could be a major breakdown. "How could you have known what I would've said? Instead you just left me, broke my heart, broke me. And what's worse is that you left me to believe that it was all my fault, something I had done to make you break up with me.”

"That was never-" You raise your hand, denying him permission to speak. He's had years to clear this up but he's missed his chance. You can feel your eyes becoming glossier and it doesn't take long before Tom notices that one stray tear rolling down your cheek.

"For what's worth, Tom," you gulp, emotions catching up on you, "I would've moved...for you. Because I love-loved you. All you had to do was ask.”

Without a moment to spare, you turn on your heels and head back towards the beach leaving Tom no room for thought in your mind. As you walk away from him, your ears tune out his final words as you distance yourself from him.

'Wait, no, please, I still love you!’

Pain.

"Where's Tom?" Lola cautiously asks as soon as she notices you storming back alone. You don't give her your answer, only do you let her know that you're retreating back to the chalet by collecting your belongings. Hopefully by the time you get there, you will have confirmed your decision to leave unequivocally.

~~~~

It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault. It was his. It was his fault and you didn't do anything wrong. You weren't bad luck. It was all him. It. Was. His. Fault.

Packing your belongings furiously into your petite suitcase, you continuously mutter the mantra to yourself in the hope that it will keep at least half sane. How you would kill to be back at home with the memories of the last couple of days buried here, never to be touched ever again. You need to move on and walk away, you can't let your past get a grip of you and hold you down. You need to leave now.

Pieces of clothing are sprawled across your floor in a hopeless attempt to get everything rounded up and shoved into the suitcase but your frustration is getting the better of you. Every minor inconvenience is a battle, every teardrop is a part of you bleeding out and every noise is a headache. You dedicate all of your strength to push in your belongings but your emotions are even stronger. You push and you push until you give in and your broken body sinks into the heaps of clothing spilling from your case.

You keep telling yourself you're furious, but who are you kidding? You're broken.

Knock, knock, knock.

"It's Lola," she mutters, voice muted by the wooden door separating you. You don't respond and continue packing your things. "Can I come in?" Nope. "Please?" Bye.

However Lola being Lola, she comes in anyway.

"What are you doing?”

Isn't jamming my things into suitcase obvious enough?

"What's it look like I'm doing? I'm going home," you spit.

"But-but how? I drove you here, and-and what about Tom - why is he a wreck?”

"Tom's finished with. Sorry Lola but it isn't happening. Don't suppose he told you what he said up on the pier, did he?" She shakes her head, eyes wide with what almost seems like distress. "Don't suppose he told the real reason why we broke up?" She shakes her head again. "Well, I'll leave him to explain it because I'm leaving here."

"Are you serious?”

"Yes, I'm serious!" you bellow. "I'm sorry but I have to get away from here. I'll get a bus, or a train back to London, don't worry about me. Spend the rest of the weekend having fun, celebrate, get with Harrison, do whatever you want, I just can't be here with him."

You can see her slowly but surely concurring with your decision, sighing very obviously, but giving you that all-knowing look to let you know she's finally accepted your answer.

"Is - is there anything I can do?”

"You can help me pack…"

Like clockwork, the two of you work in a system that within a short amount of time, you successfully collect all of your things together neatly packed in your case as the zip closes with ease: much better than the mountain of mess you had made earlier. The last thing you need to do now is say goodbye.

Standing ever so patiently at the bay window, you look out for your taxi to take you to the station. Lola thankfully discloses to you that Harrison and Tom are still down at the beach and that she would, rather regretfully she admits, inform them of your respite. Looking around once again at the mesmerising chalet, you sigh in defeat thinking about how this place could've had so much potential to hold special memories for you, but instead you have no other option but to try your best to forget it given recent events. It's a shame really. It could've been fun.

Key word: could’ve.

The taxi arrives and the driver assists you with your luggage as you bid Lola farewell and wish her the best of luck with the two remaining boys.

"This is daft. I'll see you in a couple of days when I get back anyway."

"I know, but this is me half apologising for leaving you with Tom, and half wishing you luck with your romantic endeavours," you smirk.

"Mark my words, if I have to deal with a mopey Tom for the rest of the holiday you have got something coming for you on Monday.”

“Bye!"

And like that, you are whisked away back to London, leaving your past behind.

#tom holland x reader #tom holland fic #tom holland smut #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x fem #fluff #excape to the countryside #part 1 #tom holland series #original character #harrison osterfield #tomholland

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youandtom · 3 years

Text

EXcape to the Countryside Part 3

Tom Holland X Reader

Themes: fluff, angst, enemies to lovers, ex to lovers, eventual smut, break up/make up

Chapter 1 (10.2K) Chapter 2 (10.8K) NSFW Chapter 3 (3.3K)

a/n: Final part!! Hope you’ve enjoyed the series :) I will be releasing some one shots soon so stick around! I will also be taking requests so feel free!

You can’t forget how affectionate Tom had been that day, even when you arrived on his front-doorstep dragging in the angst of lingering hate, all to be swept away by your shared desire to be with one another again. The burn of his lips still buzz across your skin, the imprint of his fingertips stain your body and the eagerness of his passion replays in your mind at night when you close your eyes. You also give time for the small, intimate gestures too. How could you forget the way his hands cradled your face? Or the way he delicately cleaned your skin with the washcloth, handling you as if you were made by the finest China glass. Everything from the uncontrollable lust to the delicate moments of intimacy has you admitting to yourself something you had known since you saw him again at the chalet.

You love him.

Lola sits with on the couch as you stand before her. She knew that as soon as you came in she had to squeeze every little detail possible out of you about what happened. She sits eagerly with her hands clasped, legs crossed and beaming eyes glaring up at you, hooked onto every single word as if you've just traveled to the moon and back. A mingling thought in the back of your head wonders why she hasn't grabbed popcorn…

"...and then we slept together," you explain.

"I knew it!" She jumps up to hug you, squeezing you just a little bit tighter than what's comfortable.

"No you didn't," you scoff. "I didn't even know what was going to happen!"

"Oh please. You were both desperate for each other."

"Right, calm down Mrs Hypocrisy it's not like you and Harrison don't make it completely obvious," you wink. You're surprised she doesn't respond. You are almost certain she would've have something smart up her sleeve to whip out. Alas, she takes it on the chin. Thinking back to your conversation with Tom, a pang of guilt swims through you. Harrison and Lola could've been a real thing if you hadn't got in the way, and she would've been ecstatic.

Lola hasn't really had a stable relationship since you've known her. Sure, she's had a casual fling here and there, but it's always been just that. You don't even know if she's made it to a second date with at least one guy. As tragic as it seems, Lola has never let it become a problem for her. Unlike you, she doesn't wallow in her own self-pity because she isn't in a relationship, much like her other friends whose relationships have been going on for years now. It's a wonder how, despite her unstable love life, she manages to keep a stable mindset. She really is the kind of person that can convince you that being in a relationship doesn't define life.

Regardless, when Harrison came along you knew that this was something different. Something more than just a fling. You would agree with Tom in that anytime you saw them after another one of their rendezvous, they were on cloud 9. It was endearing to watch how she would talk about him, act differently around him, and when, as soon as he steps into the room, he became centre of her attention. If Zac Efron - her choice, she adores the man - walked into a room with Harrison, she would tell him to wait outside until Harrison had left. Actually, thinking about it now you're amazed they haven't made it official.

It will happen, you convince yourself once more.

"Right we better get to bed. We've got work in the morning and Linda's going to be in so we can't be late!"

As you both retire to your beds, your last remaining thought on your mind was the events of today and it gets your heart hammering once more. It's been a while since you've felt like this, felt what love is. After everything that has happened recently you find that, for once, you're able to go to sleep without any sort of burden plaguing your mind. There's no burning questions to be answered, there's no stress to be dealt with and there's no worries that concern you. Everything seems to be, dare you say it, fine.

~~~

"Rise and shine sleepy head!" As Lola's voice rings through your room, at 6:15 in the morning; a whole 15 minutes before your alarm is due to go off, you groan and snuggle deeper into the warmth of your bed. "C'mon, up, up, up! Remember it's Linda Tuesdays you know what that means!" Unfortunately, you do. Linda is the area manager for your company, so not only is she responsible for your branch, but many others in the area. Which means that, thankfully, she isn't in the building very often but when she is, she expects nothing less than perfect.

Ugh, working for a bank is a pain in the arse.

Despite your early, and rather grumpy start, the morning sails by smoothly. Linda seemed uncharacteristically content with everything and was gone by early afternoon which meant, more importantly for both you and Lola, lunch time. Everyone seems to agree how suspicious it was to see Linda in such a good mood which rarely happens, but overall your day seems to be going great.

The moment you have freedom, you take out your phone and very quickly you realise you have a text. Just the sight of having a notification on your screen makes your heart beat just a pace faster.

Tom Hey, how are you? x

You I'm good, just on my lunch break. How're you? x

Tom Great, actually. Was wondering if you were free this weekend? x

"Oh my god," you exclaim, mouth half full.

"What?!" Lola questions.

"Tom's texted me and asked if I'm free this weekend."

"Well obviously you are! Tell him yes!"

You don't know why you find it such a shock for Tom to be planning things with you so quickly after settling things. It's hard to decipher whether that shock is something you welcome or whether that shock is something you aren't ready for. Seeing him was a real hurdle for you, of course not ignoring the fact that you did indeed overcome it, but just like with every hurdle you have to build yourself up for it. Taking the leap is the easy part because it's only then do you know if you've succeeded or not. It's the sprint before it that you have to get right because the fear of the unknown is still there. You have to carry the weight of the unprecedented all the way up until the hurdle and if you can't manage that, then you know everything's gone wrong before you even attempt it.

If you had to put things into perspective, seeing him again is the leap, anything before that is the sprint.

It took so much of you to build the confidence to see him again and even so, you were still a ball of nerves before you met with him. There was no possible way of telling how it was all going to end and there was no way you could rely on fate to grant you what you so desperately wanted. And the idea crushed you. It just so happened that sheer luck was on your side. Who's to say it will happen again?

Your thumbs hover over the screen without any sense of direction. With Lola's eye watching cautiously she can clearly see your hesitance. She brings her hand over to rest on your forearm.

"What's the matter? Do you not want to see him again?"

"No, it's not that, it's just...I don't want things to go wrong." Her eyebrows knit together. She quickly places her lunch on the desk besides her and swings her chair round to face you.

"What makes you think things will go wrong?"

"I don't know. I guess I just find it suspicious that everything seems to be going right just now between work and Tom, and...and I guess I'm just waiting for something to take a turn. Just like it has done before." You look up to Lola as she listens. She, out of all people, knows how unlucky your life has been from the tiny inconveniences to the hardest moments in life. Knowing this, she passes a deflated sigh.

"You need to stop expecting things to go wrong just because it has done before. Because when you do, you set yourself up for failure. Start expecting things to go right, even if that includes lying to yourself. Fake it until you make it. How do you think I managed to bag this job?" Lola chuckles. A smile begins to appear on your lips as her words sink in. Maybe she's right..."If you're worried about Tom: don't. I can guarantee you that nothing will go badly because I personally won't allow it. He clearly cares for you too much to let anything mess up, and that's not just my opinion, it's Harrison's too. And I'm sure you feel the same."

You give a nod, eyes peering back down to your screen, a response waiting to be sent.

"So...?" Lola queries.

"I'll tell him I'm free," you smile.

~~~

You're not free. You're totally and unequivocally not free. As much as you want to see Tom again, you just simply can't. And you only realise the day before. The sprint was going so well, but you have to bail before you hurt yourself leaping the hurdle.

It's the anniversary of your mother's passing tomorrow and you made a promise to yourself and your mum to visit her, even if it means having to cancel any other plans to do it. You won't allow yourself miss it.

You I'm so sorry Tom. I have to cancel this weekend.

Tom Oh, okay. No worries. Is everything okay?

You There's something I need to do. I can't miss it. I'm sorry.

You haven't heard from Tom since that conversation, you suspect that he's disappointed because you bailed on him the day before. But you tell yourself there's nothing more important than this.

As you stand before the white granite headstone, reading over the remembrance comment etched in gold, you maintain your grace and repose. You try your best to keep the tears at bay because you know she wouldn't want to see you upset, rather, she would want to see you remember her for the bubbly person she was. But it's easier said than done when you miss her as much as you do.

You lay down the bouquet of carnations in front of her, offering a small smile as you remember her taking a liking to them when you were a child. And you have to agree, they're beautiful. As much as you try to suppress it, the memory touches a nerve and your lip begins to quiver.

As you stand back up, you discover you aren't alone in the cemetery. You can't help but let out a gasp of disbelief as you see Tom making his way to you, flowers in hand. You said you wouldn't cry, but seeing him here, it's suddenly become overwhelming and you can't keep it in any longer. He wordlessly stands beside you, his hand seamlessly slipping into yours and giving your fingers a gentle squeeze providing for you that strength that you need. You always imagined doing this by yourself but now with him here, you never knew you needed him until he came, and you're more than grateful that he did.

He places down the flowers beside yours and lays his hand atop the headstone, just for a moment to pay his respects. You can't help but motionlessly watch in awe as the very man who was there for you when your mother passed, willingly be there for you again.

You give a sniffle, wiping away the runaway tears with your other hand as you turn to him, glassy-eyed and short-breathed.

"You remembered."

"It dawned on me when you texted to cancel," he murmurs back. "I'm glad to have been lucky enough to meet her. She was an incredible woman." You squeeze his hand as a wordless thank you, because you know your voice would break if you tried. In the moment's silence, naturally your head falls to Tom's shoulder, blinking away the tears and gaining back your composure. You can hear your mother's homely voice resonate in your head.

C'mon now, happy memories, darling.

"Do you remember the first time you came over for dinner? She had made about four different varieties of cooked chicken because that's what I said you liked to eat," you giggle, intermittently broken up by a sniffle or two. Tom shares a reminiscent smile with you, remembering how delighted your mother was to meet him for the first time. She always had an awareness of how much you liked him at the time, even if you didn't tell her, she just knew. Mothers just know these things. So when Tom arrived a nervous wreck, she did her very best to make him feel at home and welcomed him as if he wasn't a stranger to her because she had trusted your fondness of him, knowing that if there was something about him that made you happy. There was no need to fix her own judgement.

That night she went above and beyond to make sure things were perfect; always wanting to please, always wanting to make things better for other people. She was selfless in that sense.

"I was so nervous as well. I didn't want to waste her cooking and not eat it all-"

"There were four meals, Tom, enough for a family of six, let alone one," you laugh.

"I was really screwed when she brought out the four-tiered cake."

"You almost spewed that night-"

"I didn't want her to think I didn't enjoy her cooking! I mean I did, but there was just so much!" You're in full-blown hysterics now, laughing until you've nothing left to breathe. You cling to Tom's arm for support as your knees nearly buckle beneath you, and without fail he's there to catch you. The tears are still there however, not with sadness, but with the laughter that spurs them on.

"I remember you collapsing in pain when we eventually lay down. You didn't move for hours."

"I couldn't." He visibly shakes his head and his hand covers his stomach, reenacting and exacerbating the pain he felt that night, eliciting another giggle from you. As the conversation disperses, the serenity seeps in as the gentle summer's breeze glides through your hair. You find sanctuary in the warmth of Tom's hand as it melts the pain away and just for a second, it's almost as if the outside world is forgotten about. Just for a second, there's no one else around but you, Tom and the memories of your mum and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"Thanks for being here. It means a lot to me. It would mean a lot to mum too."

"It's my pleasure.”

"She really did like you, you know." He heaves a sigh, content but a touch of sadness.

"I know." He places a consoling kiss just above your temple. "And she would've been proud of you."

"I hope so-“

"I know so." Tom affirms. "She would be proud," he reiterates.

You eventually detach from Tom to say goodbye to her final resting place, murmuring a subdued 'goodbye' before sauntering down the aisle of graves, hand in hand with Tom. Again, you thank him for being there, because without, you would've faced the rest of your day emotionally drained. If anything, your mood has been elevated. It's been really uplifting spending the time resurrecting the memories of a shared past, long forgotten but always treasured. Otherwise, you would've been too preoccupied with the pain of missing her to realise that there's another, happier reason for visiting her. And there was Tom to help you understand that.

As you both leave the cemetery, there's a moment's hesitation on both parts about what happens next. Tom turns to you, grabbing your empty hand and holding it within his, a desperation for you to listen to his words.

“Listen,” he starts, swallowing a nervous lump in your throat. “I know you wanted to cancel today but it’s not too late to do something - I just really like spending time with you. Like I really do. If you’re up for it, I thought we could maybe grab some food?”

“Sure. How about at mine? Lola’s bringing Harrison round. Maybe then that would be the best time to tell them.” A smile corners your lips. Tom scowls in confusion.

“Tell them what?” You huddle him close, arms slithering their way around his neck.

“That we’re together of course.” Tom lets loose a hearty laugh, chest bubbling with delight that resurrects the knowable twinkle in his eye.

“I love you so fucking much, you know that?”

~~~~

As the four of you surround the miniature rounded table littered with takeaway food Tupperware and empty plates, sitting flatly on your bottoms as if you were children in school. Your eyes follow each person as they hover around the ring, determining that there’s no where you’d rather be; surrounded by your friends, laughing with the memories of the once disastrous holiday just weeks ago. The bitterness has dissolved and in its place a sense of belonging binds the memory.

You cast a shiver as Tom’s hand delicately ghosts little circles on your back. It takes a little moment for you to register it, but you finally have him back. He really is sitting beside you, claiming you as his as he did all those years ago, just as you claim him. He really does love you, just as much as he loves showing and telling it to you, and you can’t deny him because the feelings reciprocated.

It dawns on you that you have your old life back. The burden of fate doesn’t seem like a dark, looming cloud anymore, but rather more like a hopeful ray of light, reminding you of what lays ahead now that life has seemingly owed you back for the past troubles. Having Tom back gives you that little boost of determination in that no; life isn’t always out to get you.

You just needed to wait for the right moment.

A knowing look is shared between you and Tom in anticipation of your little announcement. You take a breath and reach for Tom’s hand.

“So, guys, we actually have something to tell you…” you begin, but Lola, too predictably, overtakes the moment.

“We’re together!” shouts Lola. In her joy, he swings her arm around Harrison’s neck as he plants an endearing kiss on her cheek. You all cheer, clinking glasses and elbowing each other saying something along the lines of ‘finally’ or ‘took your time’. The moment settles and it’s only then does Lola realise she interrupted you.

“Sorry, what were you guys going to say?”

“Well you kinda took the words right out our mouths…” mumbles Tom as he reaches over and snakes a hand around your waist and planting it confidently against your ribs. He sidles closer, cheeks reddening at the thought. He confirms by giving your cheek a long and tender kiss and joy runs through you.

“You guys are together?”

You both nod your heads, smitten with each other. You had anticipated for both Harrison and Lola to reciprocate the joy, sharing a cheer as you all clink glasses in a toast to relationships, or something as cheesy as that. However you only receive that response from Lola as her over-excitement and zeal compensates for Harrison’s pursed lips and dull features. You and Tom share a cautious look. It’s only when Lola lays out her hand with a smirk spread across her lips do you understand why.

“You owe me a tenner, Haz. Cupid is never wrong.”

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