The living room of Tom's apartment is quiet besides the few city sounds outside. The blinds across the floor to ceiling windows are pulled up and the couch is turned around allowing you and Tom to have your view of the city. Neon lights illuminate the living room with a faint light coming from the kitchen. You have your legs across Tom's lap and your head turned towards the window while Tom's facing forward, his hands on your shins, thumbs rubbing against the fabric of your jeans softly.

It's been hours that you've been sitting here. You talk here and there but it's mostly silence, the two of you enjoying the silence. There's a different kind of comfort with someone when no conversation or sound needs to be had in order to be happy together. You and Tom have managed to reach that. You're peaceful and happy to just be sitting there, looking at the city at three in the morning, quiet but together.

Tom turns his head as he lightly squeezes your shin. "Think Mikey is gonna be with Haz and Matty?"

You laugh softly with the shake of your head. "He has to watch his sister so probably not." You explain, still finding it amazing that Harrison decided to hang out with Matty for another night.

"He's a sister?" Tom asks, quirking a brow and blatant surprise covers his face.

"Yes." You comment. "He doesn't really talk about her."

Tom shakes his head with a huff, a smirking tugging at the side of his mouth. "No wonder the two of you are friends."

"Hey!" You flick his shoulder. "I didn't hide Travis."

"I'm kidding." Tom chuckles.

"Why'd you ask though?"

Tom sucks in a breath and tries to play it off. "Just, curious."

You narrow your eyes. "You're full of shit. Why?"

"He's just....kind of hostile."

You burst into a fit of laughter. "Harrison will be fine, I promise. It's you he doesn't like."

It's not that Tom didn't know Mikey didn't like him but actually having it confirmed just makes his heart sink. You're clearly capable of making your own decisions and you seem to listen to absolutely no one so it's not that Tom thinks that if Mikey were to tell you to stop seeing him, you would, it's that he wants your friends to like him. Tom hasn't done anything to Mikey or to you for that matter. So, he's worried that if Mikey doesn't like him, maybe it'll rub off on you and maybe you'll find a reason to stop talking to him. It's a bit of an odd worry, really. If you were going to just fall into whatever Mikey's issue is, you wouldn't open up like you have. And you definitely wouldn't be sitting on the couch with him at three in the morning.

"Why doesn't he like me?" Tom asks, his head slightly hung as he looks at you through his lashes.

"Eh, he's kind of in love with and doens't trust you." You shrug as if your words meant nothing and your stare goes back to the city lights.

Tom's eyes widen and he didn't really expect that. He expected something like Mikey not trusting him. That's fair. You didn't trust him either and you still don't trust him as much as you probably should but Mikey being in love with you, that's not what he wanted to hear or expected. Tom doesn't want to get in the middle of that, not when it's your best friend. Friendships come before anything else.

You look back to Tom, sensing him just staring at you. "It's not like that." You roll your eyes, your voice still nonchalant. "He's not that kind of in love with me, like, he'd never do anything about it. We've literally talked it about it. It's," You pause and your shoulders shrug. "It's hard to explain but it's really not like that. Him not trusting you is the main thing."

Tom nods slowly, not really grasping what you're saying but you're calm and it doesn't seem to bother you, not even a little bit so he goes with it. "Okay, so why doens't he trust me but you do?"

Your attention goes back to Tom and you dodge his stare, one of your hands going to his and tracing your fingers over the back of his hand. "You're working with Arthur, that's why he doens't trust you." You say and you glance to him, taking in a shallow breath. "I trust you because you showed up when you didn't have to."

After hearing about your mom, Tom gets it. He understands why that's such a huge thing for you but it's still a bit surreal hearing it because it was second nature. Harrison told him you needed a ride and that you didn't sound good and Tom didn't waste time to tag along. He barely knew you and he was there because that's just who he is. He already cared for you then and he wasn't going to let you sit out in the rain possibly hurt. Tom going to you, that's easy. Him being there for you when you need someone even if not to talk about whatever is going on, that's easy. Tom just didn't realize what that meant to you.

Tom looks to the windows, choosing not to say anything and let the room fall silent. He doens't need to say anything because it's in the way you say you trust him. He doesn't need to know anything else about it and you know that. You can tell by the way his jaw is relaxed and his fingers are running up and down your shin.

"Uh, hey, so," You start. "How did you get involved with Arthur, exactly? I mean, how'd you get...here?"

Tom looks to you and raises the same question. "How'd you?"

Arthur isn't exactly someone he wants to talk about. How he got involved isn't what he wants to talk about it. It's been nice just spending the day talking about how you were the kid in school that doodled in the back of the class but still managed a 4.2. He likes the conversations where he got to tell you about his favorite movies and favorite tv shows. They're light-hearted and it's what he needs right now. The heavy is a lot and he just wants this night to be happy but, if you will tell him, he'll tell you because he can't close you out if he wants you to keep opening up.

"Trust me, you don't wanna know." You sigh. Tom's face contorts to concern, his mind going back to the burn of the crest on your arm, wondering if it's everything he's been through and threatened with. You feel his stare and shake your head, gathering his concern. "It's not like....that kind of bad. Just, bad for me, I guess."

Tom nods softly. "Will you tell me one day?"

Your face softens and brows just barely knit together. "Yeah, one day." And you will but you don't wanna talk about it right now. There are too many stones that would need to be overturned in order for him to even understand and, you know he'll freak out.

"I, uh, I told you it was gambling but, uh, Arthur was one of the people who were playing the night I lost big." Tom explains. "I didn't have the money, fuckin' stupid of me but thought I couldn't lose, was on a winning streak." Tom looks back to the city, finding it easier to talk to the lights rather than your face, fearing he'd disappoint you with his lack of responsibility and self-control with his money. "Haz and me were already working for him at the time, so when I'd lost, he pulled me aside and asked where I'd gotten the money to pay for the loss. I told him I didn't have it so...uh, yeah he said he'd give me the money for the debt and I could work with him to pay it off to him, said it'd be safer." Tom scoffs at the last part.

"He tricked you." You say, voice gentle and sympathetic as you go back to running your fingers over the tops of his hand.

"Yeah," He says curtly. "So, uh, he starts telling me about this competition, all I've to do is win and I'd be good but, um," Tom shakes his head, a loose curl falling onto his forehead. "He threatened Haz and threatened me, never directly to Haz but he said he could make sure we were never found again and if we were, they'd need our dental records to ID us."

"Did...did he tell you what he meant? Specifically, or is he letting your mind fill in the blanks?" You ask and yes, you do want to know for the sake of Tom's sanity but if Arthur really told him, it could be good for you and him.

Tom looks to you and his eyes are glossed over, fear striking his face. "Yeah, he told me."

"You don't wanna talk about it, do you?" You ask carefully and all Tom does is shake his head giving you everything you need to know. "Okay." You say softly.

"If only I'd have counted cards." Sarcasm drips from Tom's lips as he looks back to the windows.

"Why didn't you?"

Tom turns his head slowly, eyes narrowing. "It's against the rules."

"Oh, because underground boxing and gambling are perfectly legal." You quip and a smirk pulls at your lips.

"'S not that easy!" Tom chuckles, your comments lightening his mood just enough.

"I can do it." You shrug a single shoulder, a confident grin taking over.

"What the bloody hell can't you do?" Tom's eyes widen and you just laugh.

"Design furniture and build it."

Tom laughs with you and lightly shoves your shoulder. "I know more than just furniture!"

"Yeah?" You challenge. "Tell me then." You bite your lip and look at him with wide eyes, hopeful and adoring.

"Alright," Tom taps your legs for you to move them so he can resituate and face you better. You prop your legs back onto his lap once he's comfortable, your head falling onto the back of the couch, giving him your undivided attention. "I like space, stars, planets, galaxies. All of it."

"Really?" You ask with a raised brow. He just never seemed like the space kind of person, especially after your comment about knowing about space than the ocean.

Tom nods. "Yeah, it's cool. It's so big, we can't even really fathom it. We're just this speck floating out there surrounded by things we know nothing about." You smile, and you want to hear him talk about space all night. "Kind of like you with the ocean. So much we don't know, makes it interesting."

Tom starts rambling about supernovas and comets and you just listen. You don't say anything or ask any questions. You just listen to him talk because it's not serious. It's something he's passionate about just like you are with the ocean. And the thing with you two, you represent the things you're passionate about.

Tom likes to design furniture and build it because it distracts him. He can use his hands and furniture makes life a little more comfortable. It's not something too complex but it's not boring either. It's that perfect medium just like Tom. And you are your graffiti because it's usually illegal. It's done in secret and usually at night, going against the grain to be something different. That's you. And with space, there's so much people know about space because it's been researched so much over the years. It's still scary, given that there's still a lot that's unknown but not as scary as the ocean. The ocean, there are so many secrets that lie beneath the waves. Secrets the ocean isn't willing to just give up. They have to be hunted and it can be dangerous. It's dark and scary, hard to reach. Just like ou, a force, a hurricane and Tom is space, giving answers when needed, free and open.

"Is that what you wanna do?" You ask, after Tom's rambling has slowed down. "Study space? Or do you wanna design furniture? Keep boxing?"

Tom shrugs, his fingers lightly tapping your knees. "I wanna design furniture I think, but I'd like to keep boxing, just not like this. Keep space a hobby." Tom explains.

"I think you should do it." You give him a gentle smile.

Tom's cheeks turn a beautiful shade of red. "How 'bout you? Wanna keep boxing? Coach a hockey team? Spray paint murals over cities? Be a marine biologist?"

You laugh softly. "Marine biology." The words fall from your mouth like honey, sweet and smooth. "But, yeah, maybe coach a hockey team one day, one for kids who can't afford it though or something. Troubled youth, kinda deal. I will always spray paint buildings but," You sigh. "If I could give up boxing today, I would. I fucking hate it." It's the first time you've ever said those words out loud. You've hated it since you took it up but your debt keeps you in the ring.

The last bit catches Tom by surprise. "What? Really? You're so good at it. Why...why don't you like it?"

"I like to watch, like I could watch you box all day." You admit and Tom's heart jumps to his throat but he lets you keep talking. "But, I hate doing it. I just, I don't' like fighting. I've been fighting something or someone my entire fucking life and I just...I don't wanna do it."

"What made you start, then?"

You bite your lip and your eyes go distant, the same look you get when you start to close off. Tom expects you to. He knows before you do because it's the same look you always gets. But, this time is different. It's different because this is the first time you're alone together in a house. In a home. It's just you two and the lights of Chicago. There's no one to interrupt you and there's no one there to judge. It's different this time so, you don't close off.

"I was attacked on my way home from school one day." Tom's heart drops to his stomach and he wonders what else could have possibly happened in your life. "It was....it was bad." You manage to say as you swallow a lump. "This cop found me and he got me to the ER and they did tests and stuff and it was just, everything was so fucking bad and it hurt and I didn't want to be there again." Your voice raises and Tom can feel the anger coming from you. "I promised myself while I sat in that hospital bed that no one would ever touch me again so I asked Mikey to help me. He'd taken up boxing after he had to quit hockey, boxing fit more into his schedule. So, he taught me and now I can't give it up because I don't have the money."

There's this tiny part of Tom that wants to ask how you were attacked but the look in your eyes tells him everything. Now, he just wants to know who the hell did it because he wants to hunt the guy down. It's clearly been years but whoever did it, deserves their teeth knocked in and Tom would be happy to do it.

"I really wanna be a marine biologist." You sigh, your way of telling Tom not to ask the questions you can see running through his head. Your eyes move to Tom's hands but his stare stays on your face.

Tom doens't push either. He doens't need to because this is you. Everyone puts up a front when they first meet people. First impressions are always said to be the most important but you put up a front for as long as you want and feels like you need to to keep yourself safe. But Tom wishes you wouldn't because the person in front of him telling him about how you hate boxing and just wants to study the damn ocean, he is in love with this person. He loves this version of you. You're authentic and raw and everything. You should be able to be yourself.

"Why are you looking at me like?" You look back to Tom, pulling him from his thoughts.

Tom is silent. He lets the air fill with the sounds of a distant siren and passing cars. His brows are knitted together and his stare is hard. His eyes move from yours, to your necklace that's catching the light of the street lamps. Tom can't help but bite the inside of his cheek and lick his lips when he finally looks back to your.

"I hope you find a way to be yourself someday." His voice is just above a whisper but it's etched in pure sincerity. It's sincerity mixed with a feeling of sadness and empathy.

"What?" You ask, your tone matching his but a little more broken.

Tom lets out a breath and looks in front of him. "You're not happy," He lifts his hand and gestures out. "...I just want you to be happy, be happy being you. This," Tom taps your collarbone lightly. "This is you, the person telling me this shit right now. This is you and you seem happy here because you're you." Your eyes are on his and a lump forms in your chest as your heart aches with his words. "You should be able to be yourself shamelessly, y/n. Be happy."

You just stare at him because what are you supposed to say to that? Your friends know you but you talk to a lot of people and no one bothers to get to know you, not like Tom has. And now he likes you, the rawest and scariest and purest versions of you. And for the life of you, you don't know what you ever did to deserve someone like Tom.

"You deserve to be happy, too." You whisper, your eyes not leaving Tom's and all he can do is give her this sad smile because you mean it.

Tom's eyes start glancing between your lips and this is different.

The first time you kissed, it was so heated and full lust, it was you avoiding your issues. It didn't mean anything because you had vendettas, ulterior motives. And sure, by the morning those didn't matter, but it matters now because the look Tom is giving you is different. There was no other rhyme or reason on your behalf but now Tom is looking at you and you are so scared that he might really kiss you. Tom might kiss you and it'll be like all the cliche movies and books where you feel like you're spinning on a carousel and fireworks are exploding behind you while butterflies and sparks consume your entire body.

You are terrified that you'll have this movie-like kiss with Tom because that means the feeling in your stomach and the uncontrollable smile etched across your face when you see his messy curls and bruised skin mean exactly what you think. That strange, warmth in your chest you couldn't pin-point when he hugged you that day in the rain would all make sense and the sense of ease and catharsis you felt with your head on his bare chest would all confirm your fear. Your fear that you are, undoubtedly, in love with the one person you don't deserve.

But, above all else, you're excited. You're excited because you're not the person people fall in love. You're the girl people brush over. There's the kiss and then there's the sex, maybe they stay for a little while but you wake up alone. You have Mikey, Matty, and Travis and you like having those three to wake up to down a hallway, to talk to, but you're so excited that maybe you'll have someone new. You can have Tom and he can be yours. Just yours. Maybe you can have a love like no other, if you just let yourself, and you're fucking excited that this might be a kiss, a real kiss with passion and love, hesitance and fear from his side that you might not feel the same way because he loves you, too, maybe it won't be so scary.

But, the scary part is front and center and you want Tom to stop looking at you like he's fallen so in love with you that he's willing to give up everything he's worked up for because...after all of this, you can't be the reason he gives up his life. You're not someone people fall in love with. You're not someone who is careful or easy. You're a wild card, scared of everything. A flight risk. But, you're hoping more than anything that he will lean in and his strawberry flavored, chapped lips will brush against yours and his nose will just touch yours for a second, as if silently asking if it's okay, before he finally just kisses you. Above all else, you just want to love and be loved back the same way. You want someone to show you that you don't have to be a flight risk or some one-night stand. You're everything he could ever want and need.

Tom leans forward and you're holding your breath while your heart pounds against your ribcage.

Do it.

He extends his hands and places his calloused palm against the side of your neck, his thumb brushing over the faint bruise that lingers on your skin. His eyes aren't on your lips anymore, just the bruise and you can feel the pounding of your heart move to your stomach, convinced the excitement has been for nothing. But, then, Tom looks back to your eyes and he's never seen eyes quite like yours before. They remind him of Jupiter, like the pictures in the expensive textbooks for astronomy. Crystal clear as if the planet has always been there the entire time. And your eyes remind him of fall, of his favorite season because there are different colors that subtly make up the shade of your eyes like the leaves that decorate the pavement. They decorate the black cement and dying grass in shades of all colors. It's beautiful.

Your shoulder is pressed against the couch cushion and it's so uncomfortable and your neck aches from the position but you're afraid to move. You're afraid that you'll scare Tom off so you stay still and you wait for him to say something or move closer. Tom's chest is moving with every breath and his breathing is picking up as if he's just as nervous and scared as you are and it shouldn't be comforting but it is. You're scared of him but you like that's he's afraid of you, afraid of you for different reasons than other people. Maybe he's afraid because he just wants to love someone and be loved back, just like you. Maybe he's afraid he's going to scare you away because he knows this is different.

Tom leans forward, his eyes locked on yours, nervous and careful. You remain still, partially paralyzed from your own fear and partially afraid of scaring him off like a timid deer. But your stillness doesn't stop Tom. He takes it slow because he wants this to be something and this can be something incredible. So, his nose brushes against yours and his eyes droop with adornment the second he smells the leftover scent of your bubblegum flavored gum. Your eyes are wide, a sheer sign of your uncertainty and fear but the second Tom presses his forehead to yours, the uncertainty melts away like a freezepop in the peak of summer. Your eyes close and you can smell the strawberry chapstick on his lips and his eyes flutter closed for a few seconds before he can find the courage to ask.

"You alright?"

Your eyes open and you swear you've never seen anything so beautiful, so perfect. His eyes are dark. Dark brown like the bark of shaded Cherry Blossom tree. His eyes hold secrets you're dying to hear, but only if he's willing to tell you. You want to hear about his secrets and his life, his favorite color and you want to know why he hates whatever movie he does. You want to know his life but only if he wants to share it with you. You want to share yours with him.

"Yeah." Your voice is hushed, just above a whisper and Tom swears it doesn't even sound like you because the word is vulnerable and delicate, everything you try not to be but he loves it.

Tom moves and his nose brushes against yours while his lips ghost over yours. "Good." His warm breath graces your lips with the word that should have sounded confident. But, you swear Tom sounds vulnerable, vulnerable but trying not to and you love it.

Tom's hand moves up to your cheek and his lips finally collide into yours. You can feel the sting of tears behind your eyes, the best kind of tears as you kiss him back. Your hands come to his neck and pull him closer to you and Tom sighs against your lips like he can breathe for the first time in a year. This kiss is like oxygen, finally letting Tom breathe properly and easily. And every ounce of hesitance and fear is just leaving you with every movement of Tom's lips against yours because he is the safest person on the planet and you can breathe for the first time in years.

Tom leans into you, moving his hand from your cheek to your waist, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you on top of him. Your lips never disconnect during the position change, the two of you too invested to detach. Your legs straddle Tom's lap, your hands are cupping his neck while his hands are grasping at her hips, pulling you as close as possible. And it's everything you want because butterflies are exploding in your stomach and you can feel him smiling against your mouth. And when you start to smile back, your teeth knock and laughter fills the room before your lips meet again. This is so much different than the other times because this isn't about getting off. You're both happy here. This, this is happiness.

Your hands move to the hem of Tom's shirt, tugging it over his head, the material getting stuck for a second and allowing the two of you to erupt in laughter before Tom starts taking your shirt and bra off. You're so comfortable and happy with each other as Tom kisses from just above your breast, to your neck, and back to your lips, a smile never leaving his face. The smile is aching his cheeks but he doesn't care because his heart is beating a thousand miles an hour and you're laughing and he's crazy about you and that scares the hell out of him.

Tom's hands go back to your hips and you grind against him. Tom whimpers against your lips before you grind down again. Tom pulls at your hips, encouraging you to keep going as he detaches his lips from yours and starts making his way down your neck and your collarbones. The kisses are slow and open-mouthed, sending chills down your spine. A whimper just above a whisper comes from your throat as Tom starts kneading your breast. running his thumb over your nipple. Your eyes close and you grind down harder, eliciting a moan from Tom.

"Condom?" You ask as you start kissing Tom's jaw, his head going back and resting on the back of the couch.

"In my room." Tom mutters, lost in the pleasure of your movements.

"Got it." You whisper against his skin before pushing up to your knees and reaching behind the couch. Tom holds your hips steady so you don't fall and when you come back over, your bag is in hand. You dig through a pocket before pulling out your wallet and a condom. You give Tom a shy smile, holding the square and handing it to him before putting your belongings to the floor. "I like having sex with you." You whisper and your face heats up as you bite your lip.

Tom hums, pulling your face to his and capturing your lips in a deep kiss. "I like having sex with you, too."

It's more than the sex though. It's that he gets to be there with you. Of course, it's fun and everything but he feels close to you. It's not just the sex, it's you in general. It's everything about you and it makes him feel like he could never feel lonely again. It's like you're this piece of him he didn't even know he was missing. So, it's not the sex, it's you and it's always been you and it'll always be you.

You get off of Tom, unbuttoning your jeans and shimmying out of the tight material, Tom watching you with wide eyes and raised brows. A smirk crosses his face and he follows your lead and starts tugging his pants and boxers off. Once him and you have discarded your clothing, Tom pulls you towards him by your hand, helping you straddle him before he rolls the condom on. You hover above his hardened length as your lips go to kiss his once more and it's like electricity is shooting through Tom's spine.

It's you that's been having those three words tugging at your brain but now it's Tom and he wants to tell you so bad. He wants to say it because it's true and he wants to always be honest with you. He wants to show you that honesty is good and healthy and it is so scary but it's always the best option. It's cliche and cheesy but it's true, especially in times with dealing with other people's emotions. He loves you and he wants to tell you.

"Y/n?" Tom pulls away and his breathing is slightly labored, brows pulled together, the expression showing his fear.

Your eyes meet his and you know what he's thinking because you look at him the same way but you don't want him to say it. If he says it, you have to say it back. You have to say it back because you love him, too but if you tell him, it makes it so real and that is the scariest thing of all. Reality is fucking terrifying. There are no take-backs in reality. No one can just unring the bell. Once it's out there, it's out there and you can be vulnerable with him like this but you can't say the words, not yet.

Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it, don't say it, don't say it

Tom shakes his head, his hands coming to your cheeks and colliding his lips to yours in a heated and needy kiss. Tom can't tell you he loves either because he knows you'll run and because he's just as afraid of reality as you are. He likes the little bubble you've created here.

You sink down onto him, slow and careful, your jaw going slack once your hips meet Tom's. Tom's hands go to your hips once more and they hold you there for a few more seconds, keeping you still and letting the two of you adjust while your chests are already heaving in a steady tangine.

Tom's arms flex as his fingers dig into your hips and help you start grinding, your hips meeting his in a steady and slow rhythm. Your breaths intertwine as you start to speed up. Whimpers and moans fall from your lips as you take turns kissing each other's neck and moving back to your lips. A light layer of sweat starts to cover the both of you and a coil builds in your stomachs, the rhythm becoming messy with every passing second.

"Tom." You moan and Tom bucks his hips up harder this time, a louder moan of his name escaping your throat before his hand moves between the both of you and starts rubbing your clit at just the right speed.

Tom's quick movements and the harder bucks of his hips send you over the edge, your walls clenching around Tom sending him over the edge with you. Tom bites down on your shoulder, moaning as his hips stutter against yours as he rides out his high. You heave, your forehead resting in the crook of his neck. A chill runs down your exposed back as you come down from your high.

You lift your head and a lazy but adorable smile is on Tom's face, making your heart skip a beat. His eyes are hooded and his hair is damp with sweat and you can't help but kiss his cheek and then his nose.

"Mmm," Tom hums, kissing your lips gingerly. "Hey." Tom says and his voice is now rough.

"Hi." You say shyly. You share the same smile Tom does and he knows it's different. You didn't say it, but he can feel it so he clears his throat and kisses you again. "That was,"

"Yeah," Tom whispers between kisses. "We should-" Tom says each word between a kiss.

"Move?" You do the same.

"Yeah." Tom chuckles, pulling away, eyes happy and blissful.

You nod in agreement. The two of you get your discarded clothing from the floor, Tom putting his boxers back on but he tosses you his shirt, offering it to you to wear. You take it with a shy smile and you pack your jeans, bra, and shirt away, leaving you in Tom's shirt and your underwear. Once you're both dressed, you turn the couch around to face the TV and Tom gets the blinds while you find a random movie to have on.

Tom lays on the couch first, his back against the back of the couch and he extends his arms out, gesturing for you to join him. You don't hesitate, not at all, as you move to lay in his arms. You face him as on Tom's arm falls over your hip and holds you close enough. You kiss his shoulder and there's something more here because you just want to pepper his skin with the softest kisses and never leave him. He's everything you could ever ask for. The universe is a fucked up place but you're so fucking happy that it gave you him. And Tom is so fucking happy that he has you.

Tom kisses your temple and his thumb rubs your hip. "Hey," Tom whispers and you look up to him and you're not scared of what he's going to say. He's looking at you like you're the north star. "You're beautiful." He whispers gently and you feel heat rush to your cheeks, looking away from him.

"Stop." You shake your head but the smile is uncontrollable and stuck to your face but you refuse to meet Tom's stare.

Tom moves his finger under your chin and gently lifts your head to look up to him. "No, I mean it." He says quietly. "You're beautiful." Your eyes dart over his face and there isn't a reason for him telling you but he did because you are. And you're so crazy about him. So, you kiss him again and he kisses you back before pulling away and his voice quivers a little. "I really like you."

Tom watches you and hopes you'll say it back. He won't be mad if you don't because he knows you're scared but he really wants you to. He knows you like him, he knows deep down it's more than that and all he wants is for you to say it back.

Please, say it back.

You can see the plea in his eyes and he's like this emotional tether, someone who can keep you grounded and pull you back with ease. He's your someone.

"I really like you, too."