fine line | tom holland x reader
pairing: roommate! best friend! tom holland x reader
summary: the line between friends and lovers is deceptively fine
playlist: fine line by harry styles; grow as we go by ben platt; adore you by harry styles; pillar of truth by lucy dacus; july by noah cyrus (ft. leon bridges)
“This is going to be hilarious,” Harry tells you as you as you stand in the doorway, shaking your head with a laugh.
“Watch it only be funny until he steals a pair, then he’ll have some ‘splaining to do,” you tell him, eyeing the drying rack you’d put up.
Because you were practically going out of your mind with boredom, Harry had come into your room yesterday and laid out an elaborate plan to prank Tom and your other roommates. You’d done a load of laundry this morning and put out the drying rack, hanging some of your more ‘intimate’ items, which you usually hung to dry in your own room, on the rack. Ages ago you’d set up a sort of chore wheel that meant that everyone took turns hanging/folding the laundry, given you usually did it together to avoid wasting water, and Harry had had the brilliant idea for you to put up the absolute sluttiest panties you owned on the day Tom was supposed to do it, and film his reaction. Two months ago you’d have been embarrassed, but living with four men had taught you that there was literally no place for shame in this house. Besides, Tom had made fun of you all week for that time two weeks ago you accidentally turned on the blender without the cap and covered yourself in smoothie, and you were ready for some payback.
“So, how are you even going to get him to do it? You know Tom always leaves this crap to the last minute,” you tell him, and Harry smirks.
“Fear not, young one,” he replies, and you roll your eyes at the nickname, “He’ll do it if someone asks him directly, and since I’m on vacuum duty this week, I’ll ask him to put away the rack so I can vacuum properly,”
You give him a semi-impressed look. “You’ve given this a lot of thought,”
Harry shrugs. “I have way too much time on my hands,”
“I can tell,” you quip, and he glares at you.
“You’re the one providing the *spicy* items,” he points out, and you give him a disgusted look.
“Please do not call my underwear spicy,” you tell him, and he laughs.
“Fair fair,” he says, before checking his phone, “Okay, camera is set up, text is sent, he’ll probably be down in a couple of minutes and we should hide,”
With that, you step into the hall, hiding semi out of view, eyes trained on the rack set up in the living room. Harry’s phone makes a sound, and he turns it towards himself.
“Okay, so basically, we’re very, very bored, so we’re pranking Tom. . . Y/N has generously donated some. . .er. . .stuff, and we’re basically going to try and make him as uncomfortable as humanly possible,” he narrates, and you let out a laugh, and he turns the camera towards you, and you give it a half thumbs up.
Sure enough, after a few minutes, you hear footsteps on the stairs, and Tom comes thundering down the stairs, dressed in his usual sweats and a Rolling stones t-shirt. He saunters into the living room, walking over the drying rack and plucking a t-shirt off of it, folding it up and laying it on the couch. His hand reaches for the second garment, before it stops short a few inches of the clothing, his body freezing. You know he’s spotted the underwear hanging on the rack, and you watch him stare at it as his hand retracts slowly. He stands for a second, looking at the underwear, and you can practically watch the cogs turn in his brain. He hesitates for a second, and you’re trying very hard not to laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. Then, he steps into the hall, and you and Harry have to duck down.
“Harrison!” Tom hollers up the stairs, and you’re desperately trying to stay quiet, “Can you come down here for a sec?”
There’s commotion upstairs, before Harrison appears at the top of the stairs.
“What is it?” he asks, sounding groggy.
“Can you er. . . I need your opinion on something,” Tom says, and you almost lose it right then and there. Harry is hunched next to you, and you can tell he’s desperately trying to keep it together, squeezing his eyes shut.
Harrison frowns, before he too, comes down the stairs, and follows Tom into the living room.
“What?” he asks as Tom gestures towards the drying rack, “Oh. Is that Y/N’s?”
“You know anyone else around this house that wears Victoria’s Secret?” Tom asks him sarcastically, and Harrison’s eyebrows shoot up on his forehead.
“Damn,” is all he manages to bring out, and Tom gives him a wide-eyed look.
“Damn, what? What am I supposed to do with them?” he asks Harrison, who shrugs.
“How am I supposed to know?” he defends himself, “Just fold them, Tom, I dunno,”
“That somehow feels like a massive invasion of privacy,” Tom comments, and you bite your lip, trying to hold in the chuckles.
“Well, she wouldn’t have hung them on here if she minded,” Harrison points out, “Just shout her down here and she can fold them herself,”
Tom grimaces. “That feels passive aggressive. . . I mean she folds all of our crap when it’s her turn. . .I don’t want her to think it bothers me or something,”
“Well, does it bother you?” Harrison asks, and Tom gives him a look.
“No of course it doesn’t bother me, they’re panties, Harrison, I’ve seen enough,” he says matter-of-factly, and Harrison chuckles.
“Classy,” he snorts, and Tom rolls his eyes.
“You know what I mean,” he says, and Harrison shrugs again.
“So then just fold them!” he says, and Tom grimaces again, before stepping back out into the hall.
“Tuwaine! Can you come down for a sec?” he yells, and you quite literally have to bite down onto your hand to stop yourself howling.
Sure enough, in a few seconds, Tuwaine also appears at the top of the staircase, making his way down. “What’s up?”
“We have a bit of a situation,” Tom says, and Tuwaine frowns.
“You what?” he asks, and as he follows tom into the living room, his eye fall on Harrison first, then down to the rack, and he lets out a low whistle, “Oh wow,”
Back in the hall, Harry lets out a sound, and you smack him, trying to contain you own sounds, ignoring the fact your cheeks are hurting from your smile.
“Damn G. . .” Tuwaine lets out a laugh, shaking his head with a smile. “Who knew she had it in her,”
“Well why wouldn’t she? She’s still an attractive girl,” Tom asks, and Tuwaine shrugs.
“Dunno, I’ve never thought about her like that,” he says, before turning to Tom with narrowed eyes and a suspicious smile, “Something you’d like to share with the class, Tom?”
Tom turns the color of beet juice as Harrison laughs.
“I’d like to plead the fifth,” he mutters, and Tuwaine lets out a booming laugh, clapping him on the back.
“Well, what do I do?” Tom asks, and Tuwaine gives him an obvious look.
“Dude, I don’t know,” Tuwaine says, before raising a single eyebrow, “Just fold them? Unless it bothers you,”
“It doesn’t bother me!” Tom exclaims indignantly, “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
“Cause you’ve literally called us both down there in the time it could have taken you to fold them,” Harrison says pointedly, and Tom glares at him, “So clearly, something is bothering you,”
“Jesus Christ,” Tom swears, before picking up a pair of black lacy underpants and waving it at them pointedly, “See? No issues here!”
Somehow, the image of Tom waving a pair of your underwear around like a flag is enough to send you rolling over the floor with laughter, and your bursts of laughter sounds through the hall, making all three boys look towards the door. You stand up as Harry howls with laughter, and step out from your hiding spot and through the door. When Tom catches sight of your enormous grin and the camera Harry is struggling to keep upright while his shoulders shake, he gets an incredulous look on his face.
“You utter. . .” he splutters, shaking his head as you step towards him, face creased with laughter, “You absolute wankers!” he accuses, which only makes you laugh harder, “I cannot believe you!”
“Problem with my underwear, Tommy?” you ask him innocently, and he shakes his head incredulously.
“I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable!” he says defensively, and you feel your stomach do a somersault.
“Aw, Tom,” you say, laughing, before slowly pulling him into a hug, which he doesn’t return immediately, still giving Harry a semi-annoyed, semi-amused look, “That was very neat of you,”
“No, get off, you do not get a hug,” Tom says half-seriously, a grudging smile on his lips as the others laugh, but you tighten your arms round his waist, laughing into his chest, and his arms reluctantly come around your back loosely, “That was mean!”
“Your face,” Harry hiccups, phone clutched tightly in his hand, “I have all of that on tape. . . it was the bloody Council of the Cloven Elders in here!”
Tom shakes his head with a small laugh, mouth still slightly open in disbelief. You’re standing to his side now, one arm still wrapped around his waist, and you try not to blush as he wraps an arm around your shoulder, squeezing you to him tightly, bringing a fist up to muss your hair.
“Do something like that again and I’ll post the smoothie video,” he threatens, and you gasp loudly.
“You wouldn’t!” you exclaims, eyes wide and staring up at him, and he looks down at you, raising a playful eyebrow.
“Wouldn’t I?” he challenges, and you think about it for a second.
“Meh, still worth it. . . you should’ve seen the way you froze. . . like a deer in headlights,” you tell him, still chuckling, and he gives you a grudging smile.
“Who even thought of this?” he asks, and before Harry answers, Harrison interrupts, looking directly at you.
“I think the more important question is who exactly are you seeing wearing–” he picks up another pair, this time a bright red, lace, thong, “–this?”
Now it’s your turn to blush bright crimson as the others turn towards you expectantly, eyebrows raised, faces teasing. You don’t look in anybody’s direction, very aware that Tom is smirking down at you.
“I’d like to plead the fifth,” you mumble, and Tom bursts out laughing, squishing you to him again.
“Who knew you were such a fox, G,” Tuwaine jokes, and scrunch your face up in embarrassment.
“I’m leaving,” you say, grabbing the rest of your underwear as quickly as possible and fleeing the room, Tom hot on your heels.
“Still funny?” he hollers after you as you speed up the stairs, cheeks burning.
“That looks like it’s going to give you diabetes,” Tom says as you put the boxed eclairs in your shopping cart.
“Worth it,” you say without a second of thought, shrugging your shoulders as Tom eyes the box.
“Those’ll put you in an early grave, you know,” Tom says, tutting, and you make a face at him.
“Then I guess I’ll die happy and fat,” you retort, and he rolls his eyes.
“It’s a miracle you aren’t already,” he mutters, and you aim a kick at his shin, which he only barely evades. You try again, but this time he takes several steps ahead, laughing as you follow after him.
“Yeah, you better run, you little shit!” you threaten after him jokingly as he disappears ‘round the corner of the shelves, laughing.
You shake your head with a smile, before reaching into the refrigerated shelf for a carton of milk.
The voice that sounds from behind you makes your arm freeze clean in the middle of putting the milk in your cart, and you turn around in the direction of the voice, praying to every possible god you can remember it doesn’t belong to the person you think it does.
Unfortunately, you’re out of luck, and as your eyes fall on the face of your ex-boyfriend, your stomach sinks.
He’s standing a few feet in front of you, sky blue eyes trained on you, dark hair mussed and curly, just the way you used to like it. He’s dressed down in a pair of jeans and a plain blue t-shirt, but despite his casual look you’re surprised to find your stomach filled with familiar butterflies.
“Ben, hi,” you let out in one breath, eyes a little wide as you take him in. This had been the first time you’d seen him since you two had split almost half a year ago, and you have to admit you’re at a bit of a loss.
“Long time no see,” he says, giving you a small smile that makes your knees weak, “How’ve you been?”
You’re still in some shock, but manage to open your mouth and muster up an answer. “Yeah, good. . .you?”
“All good, yeah,” he says with an awkward smile, and you notice how his hands are stuffed in his pockets. He always used to do that when he got nervous.
“You still living with Tuwaine and stuff?” he asks you, trying to fill the awkward silence in which you simply stare at him, and you nod, swallowing hard.
“Uh. . . yeah, same old,” you tell him, and you wish your brain could conjure up more information, but just as you open your mouth, Tom materializes next to you.
“Do you think we should get more than 10 eggs? You know Harrison–” he pauses mid-sentence as his eyes fall on Ben, “Oh, hello,”
“Hi,” Ben returns awkwardly, and you’re fighting a serious urge to sink six feet underground.
“Er, Tom this is uh. . .Benjamin,” you manage to bring out, “Benjamin this is Tom, my roommate,”
Tom frowns at you for a second, taking notice of your stiff composure, before sticking his hand out to Ben with a smile.
“Nice to meet you. You two know each other from class, or. . .?” Tom asks as they shake hands.
Ben nods with a tight-lipped smile. He’s trying to figure out why you’re calling him by his full name, given you never used to do it when you were together. “Something like that,”
“Hey babe, did you manage to find the yoghurt?” another voice joins the conversation, and a pretty girl rounds the opposite corner Tom just came from.
You don’t recognize her, but all you can register is that’s she’s all straight rows of pretty white teeth, a perfect tan and long dark hair.
Babe, she had called him.
“Hey, love, no not yet. . . this is Y/N, she’s a friend from way back, we went to Uni together,” Ben says uneasily, gesturing towards you, and the girl gives you a brilliant smile and a little wave. You try and return it as much as you can, but you’re pretty sure your smile isn’t nearly as warm as hers is.
“Hiya, I’m Liv!” she says, and her voice sounds so clear and jovial it’s almost offensive. “It’s always so nice to meet this one’s uni friends, given he literally never talks to me about any of them,”
“Babe,” Ben lets out in an embarrassed breath, and she loops her arm round his.
“What?” she asks, semi-indignantly, “Is it so bad I want to get to know my future husband’s friends?”
Suddenly, it feels like someone has knocked all of the air straight out of your chest, and for a second you’re stupidly reminded of those ridiculously written sound effects in comics, with the big colourful lettering.
“Are you also a friend of Benny’s?” you hear her ask Tom as your vision tunnels a bit, your ears tuning out her voice.
“Met him about three seconds ago,” you hear Tom joke as you try and take a deep breath to steady yourself, and she chuckles, “I’m Tom, I live with Y/N,” Tom introduces himself with an oblivious smile, while you stare at Ben, and he stares back.
He’s looking straight at you, and he knows you heard her call him her future husband, and he follows your gaze as it falls on her finger. There, on her left ring finger, staring at you, taunting you, is a big engagement ring.
“You’re engaged?” you blurt out, eyes wide as you stare at Ben, trying your hardest to ignore the way your chest aches.
“Surprised me, didn’t he?” Liv says, flexing her hand as she looks down at the ring, “Told him I didn’t want a fuss and a ring, but I guess you know how he can be,”
“Congratulations,” Tom says with a polite smile, eyes trained on you, trying to figure out why you’re being so stiff.
“Gosh. . .yeah,” you manage to bring out in a breathy laugh, trying to let out the building pressure in your chest, and you’re trying with every fibre of your being to keep your voice from breaking, “Congratulations, I’m–. . . I’m really happy for you,”
“We should probably get going,” Ben says uneasily, and you know he’s still staring at you, gaging your reaction, but your eyes have moved, looking anywhere but at him, so he can’t see they’re filling with tears.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
“Oh, okay. . .well, it was nice meeting you,” she says to you, and you look up at her, blinking hard, trying to smile.
“Yeah, likewise. . .good luck with. . . well, uh, everything,” you tell her.
“Bye, Y/N,” Ben says, and your eyes meet one last time as you swallow hard.
“Bye,” you tell him softly, and you watch as they bid Tom goodbye as well and disappear around the corner and out of your sight.
When you see the last of Ben’s head disappear, you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding in, your chest exploding with pain. It feels as though somebody is squeezing their fist around your heart, and your throat feels so closed up you can barely get another breath in.
The butterflies in your stomach have turned to ice, and they weigh on your stomach like lead.
“They were nice,” Tom comments, but when he gets no response from you, he turns to look at you, watching as you stare ahead of yourself, at the spot they disappeared, eyes glassy and unfocused. He gently touches your arm, pulling you out of your thoughts as you look up at him, jumping a little, “You alright?”
“Yeah,” you bring out breathily, sniffing quickly, blinking away the tears, “Let’s go?”
“Yeah, okay,” he says, frowning a little as you turn on your heel and begin to walk down the aisle quickly.
You need to get out of this supermarket.
You’re silent the whole way home, which Tom finds more than strange, given you always have something to say, but he doesn’t pry. When you get home, you’re the first to get out of the car, grasping a few shopping bags and hurrying into the house without really even looking at Tom, and he follows a few steps after you, carrying a few bags as well. You put them down on the counter in the kitchen as quickly as you can.
“I’ll uh. . .unpack them in a sec, I just have to. . .” your sentence ends there, and you gesture towards the stairs.
“I’ll do it, no worries,” Tom says, trying to catch your eye. He’s a little worried about you. “You sure you’re alright, G?”
You nod wordlessly, absentmindedly, and he watches as you step out of the kitchen, almost running Harrison down in the process. You mumble and apology and just like that, you disappear, and Tom hears your hurried footsteps up the stairs.
“What’s with her?” Harry asks as he follows Harrison in, frowning, and Tom gives him a clueless look.
“No idea,” Tom says, frowning, “She was fine, and then we ran into a friend of hers. . .Benjamin, I think it was? And from there she didn’t speak a word,”
“Hold on, rewind, Benjamin? Tall, dark-haired bloke?” Harry asks, and Tom nods, brow creasing in confusion.
“Yeah?” he says, looking expectantly at his brother and friend.
Harrison lets out a pained sigh. “Shit, that’s Ben,”
“Ben. . .?” Tom asks slowly, still not catching on, before it clicks where he’s heard that name before, and his face lights up with recognition, then concern, “Oh my god, ex-boyfriend Ben?”
Harry nods wordlessly, looking at the doorway where you’ve just disappeared through. “What’d he say?”
Tom shrugs. “Nothing out of the ordinary, just hello. . . we met his–” Tom stops in the middle of his, realisation appearing on his features, “Fucking hell. . . he was with his new fiancée,”
Harrison sucks in a breath between his teeth, grimacing. “Ouch,”
“Wanker,” Harry mutter under his breath, “I always did hate him,”
“Can you guys do this for a sec?” Tom asks, gesturing towards the groceries, and he doesn’t even wait for a response before he hurries out of the doorway and into the hall, taking the stairs two at a time up to the floor you share. When he gets to the landing, he hears soft music coming from your room, and he knocks gently on your door.
“Y/N?” he says softly.
Usually he wouldn’t go in, but having put everything together and seeing the state you were in after, he’s seriously concerned you’re in there having a complete breakdown. He gently opens the door, putting his head through the crack, eyes searching. You’re sitting on the end of your bed, shoulder hunched, and as you hear the door creak, you look up and his eyes meet yours.
Your eyes are shining with tears, and the pain in your expression is so clear he swears he can feel it in his own chest. You stare at each other for a second, Tom letting himself in and gently closing the door with one hand.
“Are you okay?” he asks you gently.
He watches as you shake your head slightly, face crumpling, and you let out the most heart-wrenching sob he’s ever heard, shoulders shaking as your eyes close, tears rolling down your face. It feels like every neuron in your body has been set on fire, as white-hot tendrils of pain course from your chest, your heart, to the rest of your body. You put a hand on your heaving chest as you start to sob in earnest, tasting the salty tears on your lips.
Tom’s sitting beside you in a second, an arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder, your face buried into the crook of his neck, your body shaking with sobs. Your hand comes loosely around his waist as he grips you tight, fingers digging into his skin, and one of his hands is resting on the top of your head, absentmindedly stroking your hair as he tries to calm you down.
“Shh,” he says, his voice low and soothing, “It’s okay, darling, it’s okay. . .”
You lose track of how long you sit there with Tom, crying your absolute eyes out, his arms wrapped around you as what was left of your heart breaks into a million more pieces.
“What is this we’re listening to?” Tom asks with a frown as he turns down the volume in the car.
“It’s Dua Lipa,” Harry says indignantly, “She’s literally been on repeat for the past month, it’s all Y/N listens to,”
Tom raises an eyebrow. “And now you too, apparently,” he tells his brother with a half-smirk, and Harry shrugs as the car turns the corner into your street.
“She’s catchy,” he says defensively, and Tom chuckles as he pulls into the driveway.
“Oh, what the hell is this?” Harry mutters, and Tom’s eyes fall on someone standing at the front of the house, peering through the living room window. He doesn’t recognise him immediately, but when the man turns around to look at the car that has pulled up behind him, Tom recognises the dark hair and blue eyes.
Harry curses. “What the fuck does he want?”
Ben gives the car a bashful look, and Tom’s quick to switch off the motor, unbuckling his seatbelt, eyes fixed on your ex-boyfriend. As he goes to open the door, Harry stops him.
“Don’t do anything crazy, you know she’d go mental,” he warns him, eyeing Ben, and Tom nods wordlessly, before he opens the car door and steps out, slamming the door shut a little stronger than usual.
“Nice wheels,” Ben says awkwardly, nodding towards the Audi, and Tom gives him a blank look.
“Can I help you with something?” he asks, and his voice is clipped as he stares at Ben.
“Er. . .I was looking for Y/N,” he says, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
“She’s at work,” Tom says curtly, “Can I pass something on?”
“Do you know when she’ll be back?” Ben asks, and Tom gives him a shrug.
“No clue, but it’s usually late,” Tom says frostily.
“I can always wait around,” Ben offers hopefully.
“Don’t think that’s a good idea, mate,” Tom says, and even though his words are half-friendly, Tom’s tone indicates he wants nothing more than for Ben to get the hell out of his driveway.
“Sorry?” Ben asks, eyebrows knitting in confusion.
“Look, what do you want?” Tom asks him, voice a little more aggressive than it was a second ago, and Ben’s face changes from hopeful to annoyed.
“Don’t see how that’s any of your business, really,” he replies, and from the car, Harry watches his brother’s demeanour change from sort-of-neutral to standoffish.
“Shit,” he curses, reaching for the buckle on his seatbelt.
“You made it my business when you decided to trespass onto my driveway,” Tom says, and Ben lets out a scoff as the car door opens and Harry scrambles out.
“Come on, I’m not trespassing,” he says, and Tom raises a sarcastic eyebrow, expression stony.
“Aren’t you? Because last I checked, I most definitely don’t want you here, and it’s my house,” he snaps, and Ben runs his tongue over his top teeth in frustration.
“I just want to talk to Y/N,” he says semi-neutrally, clearly trying to keep his cool.
“Well, she doesn’t want to talk to you, and quite frankly it’s the last thing she needs,” Tom says, and the car door slams, Harry coming to stand next to his brother.
“Who even are you?” Ben asks, shaking his head incredulously, “How do you know the first thing about what she wants?”
“I know that you broke her heart because you needed to ‘move on’ and then blindsided her in the fucking supermarket with your new fiancée, barely six months later,” Tom says, and his tone is angry now, and Harry worriedly eyes the way Tom’s jaw is flexing the way it always does when he’s livid, “I know you’ve made her nothing short of miserable since, and that the last damn thing she needs is for you to come marching back into her life because you feel guilty for treating her like shit and need to feel better about yourself. She has about a million other things to worry about than satisfying your guilty conscience, including having a job and finishing her degree so she can actually move on with her life. So yeah, Ben–” Tom says his name with a certain viciousness, “–I do know the first thing about what she needs, and I suggest you get the hell out of my driveway and quietly disappear the fuck out of her life before I knock you into next week,”
There’s a moment of tense silence, and Tom watches the expressions on Ben’s face change; shock, then anger, fists bunching and his jaw clenching.
“Ben, I think you should go,” Harry says calmly, trying his hardest to make sure this doesn’t become a fist fight, and Ben’s eyes fall on him. He purses his lips and looks like he’s swallowing some choice words, before he sighs defeatedly.
“Fine,” he spits after a second, before storming past a frosty Tom and out of the driveway, disappearing around the corner.
There’s another moment of silence, before Tom lets out an angry breath. “Wanker,”
Harry lets out a relieved sigh. “Tell me about it,” he says, turning towards the car to get his bag out of the backseat.
“You’re not going to tell her, are you?” Tom asks, eyeing his brother cautiously, and Harry raises an eyebrow.
“What? That you threatened her ex-boyfriend with a beating if he as much as came within an inch of her again?” he asks sarcastically, before shaking his head, “No. . . you’re right, she’s better off not ever hearing from him again. Besides, she’d probably kill us both,”
Tom looks relieved, before his eyes flash with guilt as he opens the back door to grab his golf clubs from the backseat. “You think I’m overstepping?”
Harry shrugs, closing the car door again. “Would’ve told him myself if I’m honest, but you beat me to it, and your way was probably more effective anyway. . . I’ve never seen you quite so protective, though, what is up with that?”
“Dunno, dude, I just–” he pauses, trying to find his words, “. . . she was so torn up after we saw them in the supermarket, I’ve never seen anything like it. . . besides, she’s my friend, a good one at that. . . I love her and I want her to do well, and I just know he’s not good for her, even if she doesn’t,”
“You love her?” Harry asks cheekily, waggling his eyebrows teasingly, and Tom rolls his eyes at him, mouth curled into a half-smile.
“Platonically,” he says firmly, “Don’t you?”
“Got me there,” Harry admits, and Tom laughs, shaking his head.
“Not a word then?” he asks as they walk up the driveway.
“Not a word,” Harry agrees.
a/n: i’ve never written a slow burn like this omg it’s only chapter three and i’m impatient myself. let me know what ya’ll think! and feel free to pm me your favorite parts about the series so far, I love love love hearing from you, it very much motivates me!
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