~

Sirens. They're so loud and obnoxious. Why do they have to be so loud? And bright? Tom peaks his eyes open while keeping his head on the steering wheel. He's coming to just to be met with bright red and blue lights, paramedics, police officers, and firefighters all talking and trying to get him to answer them.

He's stuck. His leg. It's jammed. He was hit. Flashes come back quickly. One minute he's driving and talking to Harrison, having a good time like they usually do and the next, a car comes out of nowhere and hits on Harrison's side. One minute they're laughing and the next, everything is just black.

Tom picks his head up from the steering wheel, blood dripping down the front of his face. His neck aches as he tries to look around, paramedics telling him to stay still as they reach in and grab his head to stabilize him. That's when he sees the horror.

Harrison.

Harrison was sprawled out on the hood of the car, right through the windshield. Glass was shattered all around him and blood was spilling from Harrison's mouth while his eyes were open, staring directly at Tom.

"Harrison!" Tom scream out. "Harrison! Answer me!" Tom screams, trying to reach forward but the paramedics are restraining him, telling him to stay still. "No! No! No!" Tom cries, fighting them as much as he can. The jaws of life start to echo in Tom's ears. "No!" He whines. "Harrison! Answer me damn it!" Tom pushes the paramedics trying to get them off of him anything as tears stream down his face. "Stop fuckin' around! It's not a fuckin' joke!" Tom leans forward, grasping for Harrison before being pulled back, his head hitting the seat.

"Cover the body!" One of the paramedics yells as they try to keep Tom steady, careful not to injure his neck and allow the firefighters to free him from the car.

"No! He's just dickin' around!" Tom screams, the broken cry burning his throat. "C'mon, Haz, tell them!" Tom's chin wrinkles and his lip quivers as Harrison's bright blue eyes stare lifelessly at him. A paramedic comes over and covers Harrison's body with a blanket, giving Tom a sad look and shake of the head. "NO! STOP HE'S NOT DEAD!" A wail escapes Tom's lips. "No, no, no, no, no." Tom sobs and tears flow freely, the taste of iron and salt filling Tom's mouth. "He can't be dead, no." Tom whines, begging for Harrison to wake up. Something.

~
-

"Tom." Your voice was flat, etched in sleep as you faced him. "Ow." You mumbled as you opened her eyes, half-lidded with sleep.

Tom stirred in his sleep, kicking you awake. His brows are knitted together, his fist clutching the comforter. His mouth was barely moving as if to be mumbling. You watched in confusion for a few seconds until you started fully waking up, realizing Tom was in the middle of a nightmare. You lightly tapped his bare shoulder and a whimper fell from his mouth.

"Tom, wake up." You sit up and shake him harder and he whines out, almost a cry leaving his throat. "Hey, come on, wake up." You continue to shake him. "Tommy."

Finally, it rings it his ears. Tom shoots up, gasping for air as a few tears slip. He's quick to wipe them away, his eyes landing on you. Your heart beats fast in your chest, brows pulled together in worry with Tom's pain expression.

"I-I'm sorry. You can back to sleep." Tom mumbles, his voice groggy and sleep deprived. His hands shake as he rubs them over his face and through his hair.

"You were having a nightmare." You whisper and rest a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." Tom swallows hard, looking back to you. His eyes moving from your eyes to the scar just peaking out of his t-shirt. "I, uh, I have to...what time is it?" Tom asks, sounding more disoriented than tired.

You reach for your phone from the nightstand and checks the time. "After four, Tom, what-what's going on?"

"I have to call Harrison." Tom mumbles, his eyes distant as if he were in some type of trance, maybe still asleep.

"Why?" You ask, confusion now filling your voice.

"Do you know where my phone is?" Tom asks, tossing the blanket away from him as he gets out of bed.

"Here." You hand your phone over, watching him carefully. "Please, talk to me."

Tom shakes his head. "I-I-" A lump forms in his throat and his eyes start to burn. "I can't. Not right now. Just, wait here."

Tom goes to leave the bedroom and normally, you would allow him to leave no questions. You believe in giving people space, allowing them to handle something and then come back when they're ready but not this time. It's different because you've spent the night with him countless times before and he's never had a nightmare but now he suddenly has one. And it's bad. To wake up and immediately have tears, gasping for air, it's bad. You won't let him be alone.

"Please, go back to bed." Tom groans as he hears you following him down the hall.

"No." You say softly, keeping up with Tom.

He turns around on his heels, you nearly running into him. "Go!" Tom yells, caching you off guard. "Just, leave me the fuck alone right now."

"No." You say again, unmoved by Tom's yelling. He's upset and he doesn't mean it. Harrison already told you that months ago. When he gets mad, he snaps and he doesn't mean what he says. "You had a nightmare and you can call Harrison all you want but I'm not gonna leave you out here. I'm gonna make you some tea and you don't have to talk about it. But you're not gonna be alone." You shrug, your eyes searching Tom's face for any clue as to how he might be feeling.

"Why?" His voice cracks asking the question.

"Because I love you." You says as if it's second nature.

Tom licks his lips and nods. "Okay." He whispers and turns back around.

"Tom?" You ask as you both enter the kitchen. Tom looks at you, eyes slightly pink and his brows still pulled together. "You can talk to me, okay?"

Tom swallows a hard lump, his adam's apple bobbing. "I know." He says.

"Okay." You reach out to him and pull him into a hug, the weight of the world seemed to be lifted off Tom's shoulders. He exhales, really exhales and relaxes into your touch.

"I love you." Tom mumbles, the words almost incoherent with the soft whisper.

"I love you, too." You look up and press a kiss to his cheek. "Are you sure you want to call Harrison, it's late."

Sadness drenched Tom's eyes, knowing he should tell you. He should talk to you and tell you what's happened. What his dream was, everything. But, it's four in the morning and he just told you he loves you. He just let someone in for the first time in a long time. You're soft and gentle. You're happy and care for him, you love him for who he is now. What happens if he tells you and he scares you off? He can't do that.

"I have to." Tom says before pulling away. He goes to walk towards the window and you can't help but feel cold without him with you.

"You can talk in your room. I know you don't like being out there much." You say and Tom looks to you and back to the window,

"It's fine." Tom says before opening the window and making his way to the fire escape, shutting the window once he's outside.

You could hear him if he goes into his room. He doesn't want you to hear him and he doesn't want to go into the hallway. This was easier. He doesn't like it but it's easier and he loves you more than anything for being there, for not letting him just walk off. No one ever does that. No one besides Harrison.

"Tom?" Harrison groans through the phone. "Fuck time is it?"

"After four." Tom whispers.

"Sorry, love, be back." Tom hears Harrison whisper before there's shuffling on the end of the phone. "Seb's here, what's wrong?" Harrison asks as he exits his bedroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Tom's quiet, shame filling his viens. "Nightmare, mate?"

"Yeah." Tom says, hanging his head and looking down to the alley beneath him.

"Thought they stopped." Harrison states, his voice losing the sleep and gaining worry.

"They did." Tom nearly whines. "But...I dunno, y/n woke me up."

"Which one was it?" Harrison takes a seat in his living room, expecting to be on the phone with Tom for a while.

"You." Tom sniffles.

"Well, I'm fine clearly. Tired as fuck but fine." Harrison states. "Mate, I know you don't want to but you gotta talk to someone about this."

"No." Tom says, his voice just above a whisper. "Don't need to."

"You woke me up at four in the damn morning. How many times did I have to wake you up over the past three years for these?"

Tom shakes his head. "They stopped, they did, Haz." Tom argues. "I swear they did."

"I know." Harrison says. "So, what caused it?"

Tom scratches the back of his neck, knowing what triggered the nightmare but there's a battle within himself. You never directly stated not to tell anyone about your scar but you were vague. You did your best to hide it. You don't parade it around. You hide it and there's a reason, there has to be a reason. Tom knows that better than anyone. So, it's not his story to tell but now it's effecting him. It's affecting him because he's scared that whatever happened to you will happen again or there's more to the story. Something and he can't lose you. He just can't. But how he is supposed to tell Harrison that without actually telling him?

"Told her I loved her." Tom bites his lip and his hand grabs the cold metal of the fire escape.

"Did you?" Harrison asks, his voice picking up with hope.

"Yeah." Tom nods and his knuckles are turning white.

"She say it back?"

"Yeah, yeah she did." Tom nods and a smile starts to tug at his lip, his heart not feeling so heavy.

"Alright, well that's good. I'm happy for ya. What else?" Harrison asks.

Tom sighs. "Can't say." He mumbles and clenches his jaw.

Harrison's eyes widen in confusion. "Something happen?"

"No, no, no," Tom says quickly. "It's just...her thing."

"Okay." Harrison says, understanding. "Did you tell her?"

"Fuck no." Tom's tone changes to a defensive one.

"Had to ask." Harrison says. "You'd feel better if you did. I'm alright. You don't need to be on the phone with me when you have her. I'll be here if you need me, but you have her, too." Harrison's voice shows his reasoning.

"I know." Tom says. "I just don't want to ruin her." Tom's words are strained and frustrated.

"Mate, she fell for you when you were out fucking every girl with two fucking legs and a half decent face, treating everyone around you like shit. You're not gonna ruin her."

Tom sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Nah, can't."

Harrison shakes his head in disappointment. "Alright, won't force you."

"Thanks."

"You okay, now?" Harrison asks. "How bad was it?"

"Same old." Tom sniffles again. "Hanging out the windshield."

"Fucking hell." Harrison groans, the idea of that image always makes his skin crawl. Harrison can't stand to even fathom the horror that must go through Tom's head with the thought. "Ya know, it's a good thing y/n was there to wake you up."

"Yeah, yeah, it is." Tom agrees.

You tap on the window and hold up a red and gold mug, a gentle smile on your lips. Tom singles for you to open the window. You hand him the warm mug but don't go onto the fire escape with him.

"Thank you." He says and gives you a faint smile.

"I'll be in here when you're ready. Tell Harrison I said hi." You give him a sad smile before closing the window and going back inside.

"Tell her." Harrison says, overhearing you talk to Tom.

"No." Tom says, sipping from his hot mug, nearly burning his mouth.

"Then tell me what the bloody hell caused your nightmare." Harrison demands. Harrison is more worried for whatever Tom isn't telling than he is annoyed. He just wants to make sure Tom is really okay.

Tom stares at the steamy liquid in the mug, sadness fully consuming him. He can't tell you. You'll think he can't handle things which, Tom can't help but realize that this probably doesn't look much better. He's in his twenties and he's sitting on his fire escape at four in the damn morning on the phone with his best friend because of a nightmare. What is he? Ten? He probably looks like some broken child who can't handle himself.

A voice in the back of his head gnaws at him, regretting everything. He shouldn't have called Harrison. He should have brushed it off. It's a normal dream to have. People do have nightmares. Why did he do this?

"Tom?" Harrison's voice fills with more worry with Tom's silence.

"I fucked up again." Tom groans and tilts his head back.

"What'd you do?"

"She's gonna think I'm pathetic, ringing you like this."

Harrison sighs and shakes his head. "Trust me, she won't."

"How do you know?"

"She said something to me not long ago. She'll want you to tell her and talk to her but for whatever reason, she gets it. Let her get it, man. Stop beating yourself up about it and wallowing in your own self-pity. Anyone who'd ever think this is pathetic, isn't worth your fucking time anyway but y/n, she doesn't think that. Now, get off your damn fire escape and talk to her. About anything. I'm okay. You're fine." Harrison keeps his voice level but makes it stern enough to try and get through Tom's head.

Tom scratches his nose with his shoulder. "What'd she say?"

"Said she had a friend and they were as close as us. So, she gets it."

"I, I didn't know that." Tom's brows furrow.

"Yeah, she just mentioned it when we went bowling a few weeks ago with Seb." Harrison takes in a deep breath and shrugs. "She said she didn't get to properly thank me for helping you and letting her help you. Said she knows what it's like. Dunno what she meant but, that's it."

Tom stays silent, trying to piece together what would have caused you to tell Harison anything. For once, he's not actually jealous that you would thank him or even mention something Tom doesn't know about. He's usually the jealous type but not this time. Maybe it's because he's tired or maybe it's because he's holding a hot cup of tea you didn't have to make and you're sitting on his couch with your laptop open, waiting for him. Whatever it is, he's not jealous just confused. He hasn't slipped until now. He's been fine so what could have prompted you to mention anything to Harrison?

"Alright, mate?" Harrison asks.

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks." Tom says and takes a small sip from his tea. "I'm gonna head in, thanks."

"Yeah, of course." Harrison nods on the other end. "Text me when you wake up, ya?"

"Yeah, will do." Tom agrees before saying his goodbye and hanging up.

Tom climbs in through the window, nearly spilling his tea in the process. His eyes are still slightly burning and a soft hue of pink covers the whites. His nose is a little red from the crisp weather of the new spring but that doesn't stop you from noticing the distant expression, filled with confusion and pain when he walks into the living room.

"You okay, Tommy?" You ask, shutting your laptop as Tom comes to sit next to you.

He takes in a deep breath. "Sometimes, I get these nightmares," He starts and you turn your sole attention to him, relieved and scared that he's going to open up about something. "I dunno, they happen and they're all the same but sometimes they're different, ya know? Like some stuff is different." You nod, watching Tom fiddle with the mug as he rolls his shoulders back. "I was driving and a car or something fuckin' hit us. Just Harrison and me and he died, I guess. I dunno...it just," Tom licks his lips, shame etched in his words. "Freaks me out."

You move closer to him and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. "Okay."

He looks at you, touches of disbelief behind the shame. "Okay?"

You shrug, releasing him from your grasp. "People have nightmares and one where your best friend dies and you're driving, that's a normal thing to be freaked out about. If it were me, I'd probably want to call just to make sure."

Tom just stares at you for a few seconds. Just when he thinks he couldn't possibly fall more in love with you, you pull this. Everyone has flaws of course and he could write a three-page essay on yours as you could probably write three novels on his, but with those flaws, you're still perfect to him. And you just keep proving that you're perfect, perfect for him.

"What?" You ask.

"Just, I really love you." Tom purses his lips and the sadness seems to slowly fade from his tired eyes.

"Yeah, I love you, too. Are you okay, now?" You cock your head to the left slightly.

"Think so, yeah." Tom nods and takes another drink from his warm mug. "You can go back to sleep if you want."

You shake your head. "If you're awake, I'm awake."

Tom chuckles. "Alright."

He turns on the TV and you lean into his side, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. You forget about what you were writing, your focus now on just being with Tom, him keeping you warm and focusing on his breathing. Everyone has nightmares, that's a normal thing and it's perfectly normal for him to freak out. However, you'll never tell him, but it does kind of bother you that he'd freak out that bad and he didn't tell you that this wasn't something new. He'd had them before. Clearly, they'd stopped otherwise he would have had one at some point while you were over but nothing. He always slept soundly so, you remember reading about triggers. Things that can cause nightmares. You can't help but find it horribly ironic that Tom see your scar and he's having a nightmare of his best friend dying. Maybe you were the trigger.

Hours pass and you wake up to your alarm, Tom asleep on your chest with his arm wrapped around your waist. You brush a hand through his hair, softly waking him up. He lets out a groan and shakes his head.

"Five more minutes." Tom mumbles.

Your chest rumbles beneath Tom as you laugh. "You have work." You say.

Tom picks his head up, looking to you and sighs. "Yeah."

"Mhm." You nod. "You should get ready because you're gonna be late."

"Fuck." He rolls his eyes and stretches. He presses a quick kiss to your lips and sits up. "Going together, today?" Tom asks, realizing you said he had work, not the both of you.

"I've got a doctor's appointment so I'll be late which, actually, I really need to get up and get ready for."

"Okay." Tom says. "Everything okay?" He checks, his eyes darting your chest and back to your face.

"Yep, just a check-up." You nod. "You need insurance. People need to go to the doctor for regular physicals, ya know?" You joke.

"Yeah, yeah, go when I have to." Tom smirks with a soft laugh.

You shake your head. "Go, get ready and I'll see there."

Tom nods and pulls you in for another kiss before getting up. "Aye, thanks, for last night and everything." Tom's cheeks turn red with his thanks, his hand running through his bed head, touches of embarrassment still lingering.

"Of course." You smile sweetly before Tom heads to his room.

You take a deep breath and gather your things quickly, making your way to your own apartment. You worry for Tom and it's still eating at you that something triggered his nightmare and it could have been you. The last thing you want to do is make whatever he went through worse. You don't want to bring up past trauma, even though it might be nothing. The truth is that you still don't know. He won't talk about it. The only thing you do know is that there's more to everything Tom does and the way he is and something made him have that nightmare. How can you live with yourself if you're that reason? And what are you supposed to do if Tom won't tell you?

Tom gets ready and makes his way to the shop. Frankie is working when Tom gets there. With the new spring weather, Frankie works more often, the store being busier this time of year. Frankie greets Tom as Tom goes to clock in. There's still sleep pulling at Tom's bones and touches of guilt, but he can push that away because you stayed. So, he puts on a genuine smile when greeting your dad, who has yet to completely warm up to him. But, he gives Tom a smile anyway before going back to looking over payroll but his attention snaps back to Tom.

"For the sake of your own health, that hickey better not be from my daughter." Your dad's voice is threatening and Tom's eyes widen. "And for the sake of your health, that better mean you and her cut off your ties and you didn't break her heart."

"Uh," Tom's mouth goes dry as he tries to find the right words. "Well, uh, a-about...that, uh," Tom stutters. "If I told you I burned myself, would that be believable?" There's no sarcasm in his voice, just touches of hope and maybe your dad will just let him go.

Your dad has to choke down a laugh as he holds the bridge of his nose, remember saying that exact thing when he was confronted by your mom's dad for the first time.

"No, it's not. That's a terrible excuse." He shakes his head.

"Didn't think so." Tom's face beats red as he finishes clocking in.

Your dad shakes his head. "You can at least do a better job of trying to hide it next time." Tom's head perks up with the words 'next time' but he doesn't get a chance to question it before your dad continues. "Now, just go help Frankie up front."

"Yes, sir." Tom suppresses a soft smile as he heads to the front of the store.

Tom puts on the usual apron and starts working with Frankie. The two conversate while restocking fresh apples. Frankie was quick to take to Tom. They're quite a bit different but the two just seemed to click. Then again Frankie was more like a brother-figure you never really had so he wanted to like Tom. If you like Tom, there has to be a reason.

A few hours pass and your dad was coming from the backroom, whispering something to Frankie before leaving. Tom, who was sweeping the back of the store, shrugging it off. He kept up his cleaning until the door chimed with your dad's exit.

"Everything alright?" Tom asks.

"Yeah, he just needs us to close to tonight."

Tom stops his movements, his heart stopping. "Why?" He's never closed with Frankie before. The only time Frankie ever closes is on Wednesdays when Tom isn't there to help close.

"I don't know, dude." Frankie shrugs and opens a roll of quarters to put in the register.

"Where's y/n?" Tom asks, him leaning on the broom.

"Didn't she have a doctor's appointment or something?" Frankie raises a brow.

"Shouldn't she be here, said she was comin' in after." Tom tries to reason.

"Maybe she changed her mind," Frankie shrugs. "Don't stress over it." Frankie shakes his head and goes back to putting the quarters in the register.

Tom watches Frankie for a few seconds before going back to work. Tom is paranoid. Of course he's paranoid. How could he not be? He finally put his heart back on the line. The last thing he needs is for it to be ripped out of his chest again. If he slips again, he'll lose his faith in everything. So, he's worried. He's worried that there's something wrong and that's why your dad left and is allowing him and Frankie to close. He's going to be paranoid until he can get ahold of you.

On his break, Tom calls you but your phone goes to voicemail and Tom can't help the slight panic that starts to trickle in his veins as he goes to leave a message.

"Aye, love, uh, just callin' to make sure you're alright. Call me." Tom ends the call and shakes his head.

He tries to push you not answering his call into the back of his head through the rest of his break and the rest of his day. He tells himself over and over again that it's not a big deal. You don't have to answer his calls. It happens. He misses calls all the time and so does Harrison. It's a perfectly normal thing but, there's just something eating at his stomach.

Tom goes home after work, skipping the normal gym routine with you not being around. But, he goes to your door before his. He knocks a few times and waits but nothing. You don't answer and there's no telling if you're even home since you've never been one to have your TV or music loud. All Tom can do now is wait for you to call him or text, maybe stop by, something.

But you don't.

The night goes by and then the next morning and still nothing. Tom tries calling again, texting but there's just nothing. He confides in Harrison and Harrison calls you for Tom, hoping that if Tom did something to freak you out, maybe you'd tell him. But, all Harrison got was your voicemail. So, being the friend Harrison is, he went over to Tom's when the two got off work. Harrison tried to explain to Tom that it was only a day and maybe something just came up and it helped. It helped for the rest of the night because Harrison's right and Tom knows that. Things come up and sometimes people need a day or two to just be by themselves.

So, the next day comes around and there's no sign of you at work yet again. Your dad is there though which tells Tom that you're okay. If you weren't okay, your dad wouldn't be working. There's a soft touch of relief with the sight of your dad and he doesn't seem distraught which is an even better sign. But, then there's the thought that if you're fine, why won't you call him back?

"Mr. y/l/n." Tom clears his throat as he approaches him. "Is y/n okay?" He asks hesitantly.

"She's fine." He states simply before shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck. "I know I haven't been very nice to you but she did ask me to relay a message. This is from her, not me. She wants you to stop calling her."

Tom's face drops and his blood runs cold. "W-what?" He asks, brows furrowed and a lump starts forming in his throat. You're just like everyone else.

"That's what she asked me to tell. She didn't give me a reason. That's it. So, stop calling her." Your dad says before he lifts a box of red roses and walks away.

Tom stands there, just stands there staring blankly. What did he do? What the hell could he have done to deserve this? He kept his secrets. He kept the dark and twisted to himself. He tried to protect you so you wouldn't run away but then you did anyway. Tom changed for you. You made him better but you just left him high and dry without a single word. How can someone do that to anyone? It's just not fair.

"You okay, dude?" Frankie asks, coming up from behind Tom.

Tom swallows the lump in his throat and scratches his nose. "Yeah, fine." He mumbles and walks to the backroom to clock.

Never again.

The day went by in a blur for Tom and the second he was on his break, he was texting Harrison. If Harrison could have jumped through the phone to talk Tom down, he would have but he also would have gone wherever you are, ready to yell at you. He thought you were a good one, too. But, now his best friend is on the phone, choking on his words, trying to figure out how he managed to fuck up again. Harrison is beyond pissed so, he puts his life on hold to try and be there for Tom.

Days went by and it's just Tom and Harrison, bars, clubs, drinking all after beating their fists into punching bags. That's what they do. Harrison doesn't really drink, he's mostly watching Tom and allowing his friend to freak out for a few days. If it weren't for the shit Tom has already been through, Harrison would be intervening, telling Tom it's not a big deal. But, Tom's been through his shit and he needs a week before Harrison starts being the voice of reason again. Not to mention, Harrison doesn't know what else to do for Tom because all Tom keeps saying is that you used him. What for is beyond either of them but that's what Tom is thinking. You used him, maybe just to make yourself feel good for putting together a broken man. Which, clearly you didn't do such a good job since he came undone too easily. Regardless, if you cared, you wouldn't have up and left without an explanation. You wouldn't have told him you loved him. He gave you an out and you didn't take it. What kind of person does that? Was this just a game to you? A joke?

It's now been a week since Tom last heard from you and his heart still aches but he pushes that aside just like he's pushing the random girl that looks nothing like you into his apartment, their mouths moving in sync. It's rough, aggressive, something Tom once lived for. The woman is handsy, her hands exploring Tom's body as they make their way to Tom's room and of course, he enjoys it. It's a way for him to forget for a little bit but she's not you.

Tom lightly pushes the woman on the bed and she wiggles her brows, a daring smirk on her face. It's the opposite of you. He shakes his head and meets her smirk, his eyes darkening as he hovers over her. Tom's lips meet his hers and she doesn't waste her time, stripping Tom's shirt from his back, the silver chain tugging back with the fabric. It dangles from his neck once his shirt is tossed across the room but the woman doesn't touch it, she pulls Tom's face back to hers.

Tom's hands move over her legs, her skirt hiked up around her hips. She's aggressive and quick, it's so rushed. She's already working on the belt of Tom's jeans, tugging them down. Tom nips at her neck as his fingers pull her underwear to the side and start working her with ease.

She's the first person he's had in his room since his night with you. Tom hasn't had any interest in sex with anyone besides you. Something fell into place, like it was proof that him sleeping around all the time wasn't right for him. It wasn't helping but, he can't get you out of his fucking head. He needs to try something and this worked before. It worked momentarily, but it fucking helped. So, he's taking control and stripping the woman of her clothes, having her get on all fours while he puts on a condom.

Tom pushes into her and doesn't allow much time for her to adjust before his movements are fast are hard. The woman is moaning, far louder than you and it's haunting him. His teeth are clenched and his grip is tight around her hips. He's careful not to hurt her but still lost in his own head. It's like he's just trying to fuck the memory of you out of his head. This woman was around and she keeps telling him to go faster and harder. But, there's guilt trickling into Tom's mind because this still isn't right. This isn't right but he can't quite bring himself to stop and the headboard of his bed hits his wall repeatedly and if you were home, you'd surely be able to hear it, if not the moans are plenty loud of enough.

Finally, the woman beneath him is screaming Tom's name in a fit of ecstasy and he reaches around to hold her up before her shaky legs gave out. And within a few more seconds, Tom's hips were sputtering and he was finishing in a loud grunt. They both collapsed on either side of each other when Tom pulled out. He looked at her and she's not you. The room smells of sex and this woman looks ready for a shameless second round, something Tom would normally be perfectly ready for. The sex is good but Tom feels horrible. Using this girl to try and get over you, that's not fair or right. And what if you have a good explanation.

Guilt.

"Good?" Tom asks, looking at the girl, small beads of sweat on her forehead.

"Great." She winks as she sits up. "Should do this again." There's a cornered smile as she looks back to Tom.

"Yeah, yeah." Tom agrees, not meaning the words falling from his mouth.

He gets up and discards of the condom, putting a pair of sweatpants on while the woman starts to cloth herself. Tom directs her to the bathroom once they're both dressed. As Tom walks down the hall, his mind blank, a knock sounds on his door. He rolls his eyes but goes to the door. He opens it and his heart jumps into his throat, bile rising from his stomach.

"Hi." You say, eyes glossed and red.

Tom just stares at you with furrowed brows and a straight mouth. That's what you have to say? You've been MIA for a week, asking your dad to tell him not to call you and you just show up to say 'hi'? The audacity you have is truly astounding. You might as well have ripped Tom's heart and took it with you, leaving him high dry as if he didn't have actual feelings. As if he wouldn't be worried to hell about you and blame himself for something that likely wasn't even his fault. He trusted you. How dare you just show up.

"Hey, Tom? Have you seen my phone? I think I dropped it when we- oh." The woman says as she comes walking down the hall and catches a glimpse of you standing in front of the open door, still in the hallway.

Her hair is a mess, makeup partially smeared from sweat. You look at Tom, his hair the same bit of a mess and he's shirtless. You finally catch a glimpse of a faint red mark on Tom's shoulder. The realization hits you like a bus. You nod and swallow the lump that had formed.

Tom just stands there, speechless before he just shakes his head, staring you down and finally, shutting the door in your face.