Chapter 9 - Pivot
Tom wakes up in an empty bed to his surprise. He groans as he feels the side of the bed that you had slept in, finding the sheets cold. With a grunt, he rolled onto his side, eyes closed as he winces. His body aches, arms, back, neck. Everything hurts and he'd do anything to just be able to stay sleeping but he has to get up. Tom sits up slowly and places his feet on the cool carpeted floor. His hands fall to his knees as the burns on his back sting. Tom's stomach turns as he takes a few deep breaths, trying to ignore the pain.
Tom gets to his feet after a few minutes and grabs his shirt from the floor. He closes his eyes, head turning to the ceiling as his hand runs through his bedhead. He woke up on his stomach, blankets down to his waist. That means his back was exposed and he never wanted you to see those burns but now he thinks she has. Maybe that's why he woke up alone. Maybe it scared her off. He didn't think much about it, not in the heat of the moment. The second he did, he figured that as long as he could stay on his back, it'd be alright but that's just been proven to be false hope.
Tom tugs his shirt over his head, wincing and rolling his shoulders until it covers his torso fully. He ruffles his hair and heads for the door, opening it quietly as he can he hear the TV coming from the living room as well as brief talking. His heart lifts up with relief figuring that Harrison was talking to you. They don't really have friends so you're basically the only person Harrison could be talking to unless he suddenly picked up the habit of talking to himself.
"Aye." Harrison nods to Tom as Tom walks down the hallway and into view.
A gentle smile starts pulling at Tom's lips as he sees you sitting on the opposite end of the couch from Harrison. You've ditched the borrowed clothes Harrison loaned you and are back in the clothes from the night before. Your hair is tied in a braid falling to one side and Tom sees a few strands of blue encased in your natural hair color.
"Hey." Tom says, voice still decorated with sleep and it's one of the hottest sounds you've ever heard.
You look over and you smile. Your heart flutters as you look at Tom half-limping into the room. He looks like a disaster but a beautiful disaster. He kind of looks like the first clear day after a natural disaster. The first day that things aren't so horrible anymore, clean-up has started, and things just seem to be okay. That's what Tom looks like. Hope.
"Afternoon, Pretty Boy." You bellow.
Tom rolls his eyes but the smile remains. "Yeah, afternoon." Tom takes a seat in the chair, turning to partially face you and Harrison. "Really the afternoon?"
You nod. "Yep," You pop the 'p'. "Just after one."
"Shit." Tom groans, a hand running over his face.
"You were up past three according to my time." Harrison quips.
A smirk comes to Tom's face. "Sorry." He mutters, catching a glimpse of you.
You shake your head, shrugging your shoulders. "Oops."
"Mhm," Harrison hums before getting to his feet. "I'm gonna get ready and I'll run you home now that Tom's awake." Harrison nods to you and then to Tom.
"I can just take the bus or the train or an Uber." You say.
"Or I can drive you." Harrison states and without another word, he was exiting the living room and making his way down the hallway.
You shook your head, looking back to Tom and sending him a gentle smile. Tom returned it and the room remained silent besides the TV playing. The air stiffens with unasked questions and unsaid statements. Tom wants to talk about last night for a variety of reasons. Arthur will keep burning him if he's caught with you which means he has two options. He can come clean to you and you can keep it a secret. That's terrifying and not just for Tom's sake. If Arthur is willing to burn him, Tom can only imagine what he'd do to you if he found out. So, that leaves option two. He can tell you last night was a mistake and that's that. It was a one night, heat of the moment reaction. A lie but maybe it's the safer option even though he's afraid it'll hurt you. You seem to trust him but if he turns around and does this, says it was a mistake and lies to your face, he risks ruining that. He wants you, wants to get to know you so fucking much he can't think straight or clearly.
You on the other hand, you know exactly what you need to do. You need to tell Tom the same thing he's thinking. It was a mistake, heat of the moment. Your reasoning is the exact same as his. You've had the unfortunate experience of dealing with Arthur's rath and you can't put Tom through that. He might to be willing to risk that, but you won't let him. It's not about Tom distracting you or you liking him, it's just about protecting him and making sure he can make it to the end. You can figure everything else out on the way.
"So, 'bout last night..." Tom starts, forearms resting on his knees.
"Yeah, wanted to talk about that actually." You sigh, pulling your legs up to sit cross-legged. "I'ma one-night stand, alright? You're great, ya know? But just a one night, yeah?"
One of your so-called talents is lying. You can lie about anything and everything and there's not even the slightest quiver in your voice or your story. You keep every lie straight even when you're fifty lies in. Your voice is level and you don't have a single tick, knowing you have to remain casual to be believable. Your lying is almost eery. But, it's saved your ass on countless occasions so, you use it. But, that doesn't make you feel any better, especially with the look on Tom's face.
Tom's face drops and while he's trying to pass it off with a nod and furrowed brows of agreement, he's like cellophane. Completely transparent. He's hurt but he can't say he's hurt because if he does then he ends up with option one which risks the both of you. So, he has to act like this is what he wants, like he was going to say the same thing. His heart aches and his back hurts but he needs to suck it up. You're just a girl.
"Yeah, yeah." Tom agrees. "Was gonna say the same."
"Cool." You give him a forced smile and a thumbs up. "But," You start again and Tom keeps his stare on you. "Thanks...for staying up with me. I'll totally kill you if you tell anyone or anything but," There's a warmth that seems to come across your eyes. "Thank you."
Tom's face softens as he looks to the floor, curls falling in front of his face. "Always be here." Tom looks back to you, bright smile showing.
"Ya know, despite my snarkiness and bitchiness and all around detachment," Your remark start off sarcastic before it turns soft. "I am actually a good listener if you want to talk about anything and don't wanna talk to Harrison."
Tom's breath hitches, your words catching him off guard. You did see the burns. Tom hangs his head with shame. "You saw?" You just nod sadly.
"I-I, uh, I don't know." You stutter.
You don't butt into other people's business, not directly. You don't like people coming into your life and asking a hundred questions, demanding you tell them anything so for you to turn around and admit you know about his burns, that's big.
Tom shrugs. "Was just an accident." Tom says, lying through his teeth.
"Okay." You keep your voice level, not willing to push him to admit anything. He doesn't push you so you won't push him. You get it.
"What happened to your hip?" Tom asks, pointing to your hip in attempt to change the conversation.
You look down and back to him. "What do you mean?"
"You've a scar." Tom states, raising his brows.
"Oh!" You exclaim eyes widening. "Hockey accident."
"What?" Tom chuckles, almost yelling. "Hockey?"
"Yeah," You laugh. "You've heard Mikey call me Rocket, right?" Tom nods, hanging onto every word. "It's a reference to Rocket Power. When we were younger we did pretty much everything they did on the show besides surf. Skateboarding, rollerblading, ice hockey, street hockey, snowboarding, even went dirt boarding a few times. So, you get scars and shit from that shit."
"Really?" Tom laughs, finding himself engulfed with you talking and opening up a bit.
"Yeah! Loved it all." You beam with enthusiasm remembering the fun you had before life took its turn. "The thrill of it all and you gotta be quick and it takes effort and I dunno, it was a lot of fun."
"Well, how'd you get the scar then?" Tom pushes, leaning in closer to you as if you were telling the most interesting story Tom has ever had the pleasure of listening to.
You roll your eyes. "Okay, so Matty, I love him like a brother but the dude can barely walk on solid fucking ground so why Mikey and me thought he could ice skate let alone play fuckin' hockey is truly beyond me." You ramble. "So, we're on the ice and he wasn't doing too bad. It's just us cause ya know, coach was chill, let us scrimmage sometimes if he could so we're teaching Matty to play. Well, I'm kinda behind him, kinda on the side, ya know? Helping him stay up and helping hold my stick. I let go, he starts skating, all is good but I stay close behind him to make sure he doesn't eat shit. Next thing I know, he slips somehow and he falls all weird, I collide into him and I fell right on the tip of the damn blade."
"You've a scar on your hip from trying to teach someone to play hockey?" Tom chuckles, brows pulled together in amusement.
"Mhm." You hum. "Needless to say, Matty doesn't skate or play hockey and I had to get six stitches."
Tom shakes his head, mouth partially open. You really like hockey by the way your voice changes pitch telling the story and Tom can't get enough. "Anymore?"
"Check it." You say moving your hair away from your forehead revealing a small scar right by your hairline. "Hockey puck to the face."
"Mikey or Matty?" Tom asks, almost joking.
"Travis actually." You toss your head back in laughter. "He looked so fucking scared, it was great. The head bleeds a lot more than you think it does."
"You really have a thing for people hitting you in the face, huh?"
Without hesitation, you quip, "Yeah, well, we all have our own kinks."
Tom leans back in his chair, filling the room with laughter. You laugh with him and you want him. You laugh but the thought of how unfair life is crosses your mind because this man laughing about a simple joke is so pure and happy and good, he is so good and he deserves everything good. Everything in you is just pulling at you to toss everything away and say fuck it, just risk it all but he's just a boy with a pretty laugh.
"Ya know," Tom leans up again. "You're funny when you're not snarky and all around detached." Tom puts air quotes around your previously-used phrased.
"You forgot bitchy." You gesture finger guns with one hand, squinting an eye.
Tom scoffs. "Nah, I don't think you're bitchy."
Heat starts to rise to your cheeks with Tom's words. "Thanks."
Before Tom can say anything else, Harrison comes back in. "Ready?" He asks. Harrison quietly hates himself for having to reak up the conversation. You look happy together, like you understand each other in ways Harrison doesn't grasp, can't grasp.
"Yeah." You nod, standing up, Tom following your lead. "Pretty Boy." You smirk up to him.
"Y/n." Tom mocks.
You glance to Harrison and he shrugs, moving to put his shoes on. Harrison said that while you're in that apartment, what Arthur doesn't know, can't hurt anyone. And you're having a little trouble with impulse control about Tom so, you move forward and clasp your hands around his neck, pulling his lips to yours. Tom's hands immediately tug at your hips, pulling you flush against him.
One of the problems that comes with addiction is that it's dangerous. It doesn't matter what people are addicted to, the addiction becomes dangerous because it's hard to live without. It's hard not to have that thing. It's dangerous for one's physical health and sanity. Tom and you are already hopelessly addicted to each other and the way your mouths move with each other and the way it feels like electricity flows through your veins and keeps your hearts pumping with only the simple touch of each other's fingers, solidify it.
You pull away, biting your lip. "One-night stand." You remind him before pressing a chaste kiss to his cheeks.
Tom's eyes widen with infatuation. "Wish it wasn't," Tom mutters, pulling you closer, desperately wishing you didn't have to leave because if you leave, it'll be like he woke up from his favorite dream.
"Do you need a room?" Harrison quips from behind you.
You wiggle away from Tom's grip. "I'm coming. Bye, Tom." You bite your lip before making your way to the door.
"Need anything?" Harrison directs his voice at Tom.
"Nah. I'm good." Tom responds, taking a seat on the couch, a smile still splitting his face.
You and Harrison head out to Harrison's car. Your mind is occupied with thoughts of Tom and you know you need to up your game. You need to put aside what happened last night with Ian and not worry about Arthur catching you. Your focus needs to be on figuring out a plan to get everyone out of the mess that's been created. It's not going to be easy but you need to. Tom's clouding your thoughts and you know there's no getting rid of the smile embedded in your memory or his dark curls and eyes so deep you feel like you could drown peacefully. You have to take Arthur down.
You reach Harrison's car and Harrison starts the drive to your house with the help of you telling your actual address, not Mikey and Matty's. The two had work and you'd rather be in your own home where maybe you'd be able to think of something. It's easier to think in a place you're more comfortable and that would be your bedroom.
Harrison glances over to you as he drives through the sunny city streets. "Hey," Harrison breaks the silence, his eyes moving back to the road. "Overheard you with Tom, why'd you say you were a one night stand when he's the reason for it?" Harrison asks, brows knitted together.
You shrug a shoulder, not looking over to him. "He'd feel guilty."
"You don't?" Harrison glances back over. "Feel guilty, I mean."
"Oh, no," You shake your head looking to him. "I do but I initiated it last night so."
Harrison lets out a frustrated sigh. "Do you care? Seemed like you do this morning, now it doesn't. Are you fucking with him?" Harrison glances back over with a squared jaw. You're too nonchalant about it but what Harrison doesn't know is that it's just a defense mechanism.
"If I didn't care, I wouldn't have told you about his fucking back." You glare at him, teeth clenching before you look out your window.
"Sorry," Harrison mutters. "I just got him into this and," He pauses for a few beats. "I dunno."
"Well, I might have a plan. It's half-assed and solely relies on an incompetent drug addict slash drug dealer but it's better than nothing, I guess."
"I'm listening." Harrison urges.
"There's a fight, about a month from now, it's a throw-away. Boxers enter to get more money but it doesn't affect the outcome of the actual matches. It's just, extra I guess. But, there's a kind of poll where the people betting get to pick who they want against each other." You pause, watching Harrison and gaging his reaction.
"I don't like where this is going." Harrison sighs already gathering what you're about to say.
"Yeah, you won't." You sigh, freehand tapping the center console. "Arthur will pay a lot of money to see Tom fight me. I know I can make it to the final match and he does, too. He's going to have Tom fight me because that's his best chance at winning or he'll do it to fuck with me."
"Won't that fuck with Tom?" Harrison points out the obvious.
"You bet." You point. "But, Arthur won't care because it's a throw-away. It happens on Wednesday and the following weekend doesn't contain a match. Tom will have over a week to recover. So, my half-assed, thought out in only two-minutes plan is that I fight Tom."
"Right..." Harrison blinks in a state of dumbfounded.
"But, I tell him beforehand that he needs to fuck me up. I mean, make sure as shit I can't fight the following weekend."
"How does that help?" Harrison interrupts you. You don't make any sense right now but he hates the idea of Tom having to actually hurt you.
"I'm getting there, chill." You scold. "Tom, yeah he'll feel guilty and all that but I'll be fine and it's my idea. No biggie. The problem is that I need to get Ian, the dude I owe money to, in on this."
"Wait, wait, wait." Harrison shakes his head. "Why? And why do you owe money to a drug dealer?"
"Do you want my plan or do you want to know how I got here because you're only getting one." Your eyes narrow as you watch Harrison.
"Plan." Harrison nods.
"If I can get Ian in on this, I'll get a few extra weeks to come up with some money to pay him back and he won't come after my ass. In that time, I can work my own fucking angle to fuck Arthur over because I know how but I can't do it while I'm fighting. Not working two jobs, trying to keep my friends safe, keep my brother safe, keep my ass safe, which we can see how fucking well I am at that. I gotta keep my shit together and I can't do what I need to if I'm getting my face beat in every weekend."
"Okay," Harrison lets air out in a shallow breath of uncertainty.
He doesn't want you to do it. Harrison's been there, getting beaten so bad he can't fight anymore. It's a mess, literally and figuratively. It can fuck with someone mentally and physically. It's just, not a good situation and that's not fair that you're willing to just put yourself in that position to help Harrison and Tom, two people who just barely aren't strangers anymore. But, there's also the bigger point.
There's Tom. Harrison knows Tom will be completely against it even if your or Harrison tell Tom exactly what's going on. Tom will never want to hurt you, it's who he is. Sure, in the ring it is him against his opponent and he gets lost in it, but that's completely different than him knowing ahead of time that he needs to actually cause enough damage to knock someone out of the competition completely, especially someone he cares about. And if for some reason he does agree to do it, he'll never be able to live with the fact he hurt you. It's crazy.
"What if Ian doesn't agree to it? Or Tom? Or what if he doesn't hurt you and you just make it look like he did?" Harrison rambles the questions off.
"Everyone has beef with Arthur." You chortle. "Ian will likely agree if I promise to take Arthur down. And I don't know. And I'm not an actor. I'm a liar."
Harrison groans, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "What if it doesn't work?"
"Well, for right now, we have to make that work. We have a month to see if it will and during that month, I'll have to time think of a few more plans."
Harrison hates this more than almost anything but it's what he has. "Alright, fine." Harrison agrees as he turns onto your street. "Should we tell Tom?"
"Not yet." You shake your head. "He's gonna be pissed at us both, ya know?" There's a quiver in your voice, once Harrison didn't expect. It's a quiver that says you don't want Tom mad at either of you. You really, really like him.
"I knew that when I agreed to ask you out but he'll understand." Harrison shrugs with reassurement. "When should we tell him?"
"I don't know." You whisper as Harrison pulls the car against the curb. "I'll let you know and you can tell him. I won't tell him a thing. He should hear it from you when the time's right."
"Okay." Harrison nods, eyes sad yet determined. "Well, you alright?" Harrison asks, the change from snarky to sad worrying him plus, he has a very unfortunate view of the bruise on your neck.
"Always." You say as you reach for the door. Harrison's mouth starts to open but you cut him off before he can get a word out. "Thanks for letting me stay." You rush. "I owe you."
Harrison huffs, the corner of his mouth pulling up. "You don't owe me. We're friends."
You smile gently. "Alright, well, thanks, still."
"You're welcome." Harrison says.
"I'll catch ya later then." You nod and exit the car.
You make your way up your walkway and into your house. The door creaks open as you step inside, taking in the cool atmosphere. You swear under your breath before shutting the door and turning towards the kitchen. You're immediately met with Travis seated at the table flipping through the mail.
"Mikey and Matty stopped by." Travis mutters, not looking to you.
"Okay." You say, making your way past the table and towards the stairs.
"That's it?" Travis looks up, eyes boring into your back.
"Yep." You start as you go for the stairs. "I have a phone."
"Y/n!" Travis yells after you but more with concern than anything.
You turn on the stairs to glare at him and he gets a look at the bruise. His jaw drops and the hardened expression turns to one of pure concern. "I'll text them later, alright?"
"What the fuck happened to you?" Travis asks.
"Tied a scarf around my neck a little too tight, what do you think?" Your eyes narrow with the snarky remark.
Travis sighs and maneuvers around the table and to the foot of the staircase. "Was it the person that dropped you off?" The protective brother side starts to make an appearance.
"Travis," Your voice is warning. "Leave it."
You go to turn but Travis's voice stops you. "I know it's hard but you have to learn to move past it. I have." He knows why you're snippy today and he knows you well enough to know it's not the bruise.
You laugh dryly turning and looking down at Travis. "I have to learn to move past it? Move past what exactly? Your fuck ups? Mine? Mom's? Dad's? Everyone's? How 'bout the fact this fuckin' house is fuckin' freezing, huh? Wanna explain where the hell the money for that bill went or are we gonna pretend like it ain't shit? Because I'm not." You huff, almost hovering over him, jaw clenching and fist balled at your sides.
"How many times do I have to apologize?" Travis asks through gritted teeth.
"As many times as it takes to fix this shit." You say with a scoff.
"I'm sorry, Jules." Travis says with sincerity.
"Leave me alone." You say, your voice turning calm.
"I can't do that. You do for family, remember?"
"Yeah," You shake your head.
"Did you go out last night because of mom?" Travis asks. "Just be honest, c'mon, just me and you."
You look away. "No," You look back to him with the roll of your shoulder and raise of your brows. "Nothing to do with her. I didn't go to Mikey and Matty because of mom and I didn't come here because of mom. I called a new friend."
Travis nods. "I'm here for you, y/n. You can always come home."
"The first thing you did was yell when you saw this. What would you have done last night?" You challenge. "I'm just–" You pause and lick your lips. "It's a bad fucking day, okay?"
"You can't take out your bad days on me." Travis says with the gesture of his hand.
"Yeah, well, I'm working on it." You mumble. "Look, I'll get you the money for the heating and you can run the money tomorrow. I need to nap."
"I'm here if you want-"
"I don't." You cut him off, turning up the stairs and this time successfully making it up all of them and to your room.
You shut the door to your room and lean against the old wood. You take a few deep breaths and shut your eyes, allowing yourself to just breathe. You can feel everything riding on you, like you're literally holding the weight of the world on your shoulders. Travis has to rely on you, he doesn't have a choice thanks to Illinois's bullshit system. Mikey and Matty rely on you to just be a friend and be the brains whenever either of them get into form of a situation they can't get out of. And now Harrison is relying on you to get him and Tom out of the mess and you might have set yourself up for that but that is not the point, not right now. The only person who doesn't seem to be relying on you is Tom himself which, ironically enough, makes him seem like the easiest person to communicate with and you can't for the sake of his own health. It sucks.
With a groan, you push off of your door and go to your bed, plopping down. You dig your phone out of your pocket, holding it above your face and your fingers hover over Mikey's contact. He's working so it's not like he can talk very much and Matty is also at work and he can't talk so you type the quick 'I'm home' message and toss your phone to the other side of your bed. You decide you can just spend your day in bed, thinking and sleeping. It's better than dealing with people.
The next day comes around and Tom is leaning over the wall of his cubby in the office, talking to Harrison. When Harrison had returned the day before, Harrison confronted Tom about the burns on his back. Tom was a little more than defensive over it but did eventually calm down to tell him what had happened. Now, Harrison wants a minute alone with Arthur, to give him a taste of his own medicine, not that Tom would ever let that happen. Harrison's just disgusted and he blames himself and he feels completely helpless. His friend is being burned and there's nothing he can about it. It's a bit crushing.
"Holland." Arthur's raspy voice pulls Tom's attention. "Office, now." Arthur states before walking away and allowing Tom to follow.
"What's he want?" Harrison asks.
"Fuck if I know." Tom shrugs, moving away from his cubby. "Be back." Tom states before he starts walking to Arthur's office.
Last time he was in Arthur's office, he left with burns down his back so to say Tom was nervous would be an understatement. His paranoia escalates with every step. Maybe Arthur is completely insane and he's bugged their house. Maybe bugged the car, their phones. Who knows? Maybe Arthur is just fucking with him. Tom doesn't have a clue about anything and the more he thinks, the worse it all gets. Sometimes, his thoughts are worse than reality.
Tom walks into Arthur's office, closing the door behind him. He walks in front of the desk where Arthur was standing and he's hoping that he just gets it over with. Whatever he has to say or do, maybe he'll make it quick.
"I do believe I owe you an apology." Arthur starts.
"What?" Tom's face contorts in confusion.
"I shouldn't dictate who you can and can't talk to." Tom just stares at Arthur as if Tom's missing an elephant in the room. He was burned for talking to you and now Arthur is apologizing. What. "If you'd like to see y/n, I think it'd be a good idea, actually." Tom's confusion and fear immediately drops with Arthur's words. He's not stupid.
"That's not a choice, is it?" Tom asks.
Arthur grins with a gentle huff. "What do you think?" Arthur turns to grab the unlit cigar from his desk before turning back around. Tom just glares and it's like Arthur's just relit the fire in Tom.
"No." Tom says. "No."
"Funny," Arthur gives a dry chuckle as he grabs the matchbox to the side of him. "Osterfield said you like her. I thought you'd be okay with this."
Tom hesitates. He hesitates because you haven't left his mind in nearly twenty-four hours. You're at the front of his mind like his favorite song playing on repeat. He connects with you unlike anyone else and he can't even explain it. So, yeah, Tom should be happy he's free to at least speak to you but he's not because Arthur isn't giving him the choice which means there's a sinister reason behind it. It's not about how Tom feels. There's more to it and it doesn't sit well with Tom.
"What do you get out of it?" Tom asks, arms crossing his chest.
"I get a focused fighter." Arthur grins, putting the cigar in his mouth and lighting a match, disregarding Illinois law.
That's not exactly his reasoning. Arthur is twisted and similar to you, he'll do anything he has to to make sure he comes out on top. But, he crosses the lines you won't. So, if Arthur can get Tom to start in on you knowing full and well you like him, Arthur knows you'll get attached. He has complete control over Tom and with the snap of his fingers, he can rip Tom away with you without a second thought. With the past you and Arthur have, he knows that you won't be distracted because Tom was taken away, but you'll be distracted because you'll be worried about him with Tom working with Arthur. You'll slip and do something stupid. Arthur gets his revenge and a winning fighter.
Tom's eyes are narrowed and he hates Arthur so much more now than he already did. "What'd y/n ever do to you?"
Arthur pauses, catching Tom off guard. Arthur is always at the front of his game, no hesitation. He's quick with responses as if he's answered every question Tom has thrown at him a hundred times and he can respond to any remark like he's been doing this for twenty years. But, that one question caught Arthur off guard. You're a new denominator he needs to account for. He didn't expect anyone, especially Tom, to ask about what happened with you, not after the first time. Arthur thought the burns would be enough and they are, for a little while.
"That doesn't concern you." Arthur lights the cigar, puffing on the end a few times.
"She'll tell me if I see her." Tom states, keeping his voice confident despite his actual lack of confidence. You won't tell him anything other than your interest in marine biology, you aren't going to turn around and tell him your shit with Arthur, but it's a good lie.
"Are you sure about that?" Arthur asks and he has a smirk that's taunting.
"Positive." Tom says without hesitation.
Arthur shrugs, puffing on the cigar a bit more as if to be silently threatening Tom. "Good thing there's nothing to tell."
Tom shakes his head. "I'm not fucking with her because of you."
"You'll do as I say or your back will be the least of your problems." Arthur pushes off of his desk, closing the distance between him and Tom. Tom would normally back away, but he doesn't. He doesn't stand down this time and instead, he stands toe-to-toe with Arthur. Arthur blows smoke into Tom's face and the most Tom does is blink. "Understood?" Arthur asks with venom in the single word.
"Got. It." Tom says through gritted teeth.
"Good." Arthur pats the side of Tom's face as Tom jerks away. "Get back to work."
Tom glares up at Arthur, disgust and fury running through his veins. He backs away and goes for the door, shutting it behind him as he leaves. Tom hates that he's here. He doesn't even know how he got here but he did and now he has to actually try and date the girl he likes otherwise he'll get the full rath of Arthur. So, he has to try and date you just because someone said so. Surely, that's not going to end well.
Tom goes back to his cubby, plopping down into his seat, arms back to being crossed over his chest. Harrison stands up and looks over to him.
"You alright, mate?" Harrison asks.
"Fuckn' prick is what he is." Tom mutters. "Wants me to date y/n."
Harrison raises a brow. Why would Arthur have Harrison date you just to turn around and have Tom date you? But, Harrison can't ask that. He promised you.
"Why'd he change his mind and why're you pissed?" Harrison asks instead.
"Dunno." Tom shakes his head. "And 'm not." Tom looks to his computer.
"Tom–"
"It's fine, Haz. I'll explain later." Tom cuts Harrison off and Harrison simply sighs before sitting back in his seat not wanting to push Tom, not at work. But he has full intentions on holding Tom to his word of explaining later.
While Tom and Harrison spend the rest of their workday working in silence, you're at the gym working. Maurice had a few choice questions about the obnoxious bruise you couldn't completely cover with makeup but Maurice didn't badger. The less he knows the better so you basically just kept to yourself throughout the day. That was until Mikey and Matty strolled in.
You haven't seen them since Tuesday which is completely out of the ordinary and the two boys are worried. You don't just stop hanging around unless something's wrong and their thoughts were confirmed when they came face to face with you.
"What the fuck happened to your neck, Rocket?" Mikey raises his voice, his hand grabbing your chin to turn your face.
"Get off me, dammit." You slap his hand away.
"What happened?" Matty's voice is soft and sweet. "Who did that?"
"No one, okay? Don't worry about it, I'm fine." You say, walking around the counter.
"Is that why we haven't seen you in two days?" Matty asks and his voice is so innocent it just fills you with more guilt.
You hang your head slightly. "I just needed some time, okay?" You say.
"Yeah, so the bruise will heal. You never spend that day alone. Ever." Mikey edges in, voice harsh and unapologetic.
"I wasn't alone." You retort, leaning your elbows on the counter. "I told you. I stayed with Pretty Boy and Pretty Boy 2.0." You state nonchalantly.
"I meant with people you can actually talk to." Mikey narrows his eyes. He's not into playing your games and round-about answers today. Someone literally strangled you and he wants answers.
"Who says I didn't tell them?"
Matty and Mikey look to each other and then back to you, looks alone calling your bluff. "Did you?" Mikey asks, already knowing the answer.
"No, but you didn't know that." You mumble.
"Who are you protecting?" Mikey asks and he's not going to budge.
"Mikey," You warn. "Leave it."
"Ian, right?" Mikey asks. "Why're you protecting that piece of shit?"
"Leave. It. Alone." You lean closer to Mikey, trying not to lose your temper.
"Fuck with you, he fucks with me." Mikey hits the desk with his palm a few times before heading for the door.
"Mikey!" You yell after him but he's leaving and nearly running into Harrison and Tom as they come in. "Oh, you're fucking with me, right?" You look up as if to be cursing the world.
"Do you want me to go after him?" Matty asks.
"No," You sigh. "No, no point."
Matty's and your attention is pulled to the side when Harrison and Tom approach, both holding expression of worry. They know you better than Mikey but Mikey looked ready to kill anyone who got int ehir way so it's only fair they're a little worried.
"He alright?" Harrison asks.
"Yeah, it's nothing." You say with a shrug.
Tom's heart weighs heavy in his chest with the sight of you. He has to ask you out but there's something else gnawing at him and seeing Mikey storm out brought it to the front of his mind. You called herself a one-night stand which he brushed off at first but now that he suddenly has to convince you to date him, he's overthinking. People don't call themselves one-night stands, they call other people one-night stands. You're someone who's careful with your words so you wouldn't incorrectly word something. And with Mikey running out and just the overall look of how exhausted you look, Tom has questions and worry. And guilt. Lots of guilt.
"Uh, hey." Tom says.
"Hey." You responds.
Tom looks to Harrison and then Matty before looking back to you. "Can we...talk for a minute?"
"I'm gonna...." Harrison trails off, pointing his thumb in the direction of the locker room. "Go that way."
"I'll come with." Matty says, the other three snapping their attention to Matty. "In case a locker gets stuck or something."
"Good idea." Harrison chimes, walking up to Matty and jerking his head for him to follow.
Harrison and Matty make their way to the locker room leaving you and Tom to yourselves. You grow nervous, wondering what Tom has to say that he can't just speak in front of Harrison or Matty. Your first thought is that it's something about the burns on his back. Maybe there's more now and he doesn't know what to do. Maybe Harrison didn't tell Tom that you told him so Tom's just relying on you. Relying.
"So," Tom sucks in a breath. "What if I don't want last night to be a one-night stand?" Tom asks bluntly.
"I told you, Pretty Boy, I'ma one-night stand." You say and there's a flicker in your eyes.
"But I don't want you to be." Tom says as if it were the simplest sentence that had ever left his mouth and you, you pivot.
You don't have a quip or harsh words. You don't have the fight to argue with him and you don't want to. Your problem is that you don't want to fight him on this because you don't want to be a one-night stand, especially with him. But, that's just it. If you choose to be the one-night stand, the other person doesn't get to make that choice for you. They don't get to kick you out because you kicked yourself out. And with the amount of shit going on, the last thing you need is to be worrying about someone kicking you out. Tom has Arthur breathing down his neck about seeing you and you won't be responsible for his injuries.
"You don't either." Tom says after a few seconds of silence.
You suck on your teeth and walk around the counter, pulling at Tom's arm. You pull him off to the side where you can actually talk to him without anything between you. You can be close enough to him to whisper and make sure no one can overhear.
"You have burns on your back, man." You whisper with pain in your voice, leaving out your insecurities in your reasoning. "Because you talked to me. Why do you want to risk more of that?" Your eyes scan Tom's face for answers.
Tom shakes his head. "He said he doesn't care anymore." Tom says quietly. "Said I can see you if I want."
You pivot, again. You don't trust yourself not to give into him. Tom's the addiction you've feared and you're now up against. He lights this spark in you that makes you want to do better and be better, stop just skipping by and do something. You have this ability to help people and you're sitting on it for your own safety. Tom makes you want to throw it out. He's gasoline and you're the match.
But, you know there's more to this. There has to be. Arthur doesn't just change his mind and you know there's a reason why Arthur is saying Tom can suddenly, not only talk to you, but do what he wants. There's an ulterior motive but he's a few steps ahead and you're basically seeing through a pitch black tunnel. You have no idea where he stands and now it's like walking through a minefield, anywhere you step might set off a series of bombs. It's not good, a terrible place.
"We're friends, okay?" You say after a few beats pass.
"Friends?" Tom asks and there's a smile starting to pull at his lips.
"Yeah, friends." You say, heating rising to your cheeks.
"Okay." Tom agrees. He has one foot in the door. "As friends," Tom starts. "I think it's only fair I know your full name and....your number." Tom chuckles.
You give him a hearty laugh. "You call me by my full name, I'll end you, got it?" Tom nods and mockingly crosses his fingers over his heart. "Y/n y/l/n."
Tom's eyes soften as your name sits with him. It fits you. "I like it." He says gently, just above a whisper.
"Ya know." You laugh softly.
"Alright." Tom pulls out his phone and hands it to you once he pulls up the space for a new contact. "Here ya go."
You shake your head but take his phone from him. You look at him with a quirked brow after looking at the cracked screen. "Really? Get a case, man."
"It's fine." Tom laughs, pointing to the phone.
"Mhm, and when it breaks, you'll be bitching you don't have a phone." You mock, typing your number in the phone.
"Should probably put your address in there, too then. In case I can't text you or call you." There's a nervous quiver to his voice but it's adorable. It makes your heart skip a beat and butterflies explode through your stomach.
"Oh," You look to him with a smirk. "You think you're smooth."
"Not at all." Tom laughs once more and your heart flutters against your ribcage.
He's so cute.
"Here." You hand him his phone back. "Go wild."
Tom looks to his phone and smiles with the sight of your name and phone number in his phone. But, the happiness and warmth that filled his chest, slowly starts to fade with the thought of almost lying to you. Arthur's making him do this even if he wants to do it, Arthur is still behind it and he feels like he's lying.
"Thanks." Tom says with the lick of his lips as he shoves his phone back in his pocket.
"You're welcome, Pretty Boy." You giggle. "Now, I should get back to work so I can leave soon." Tom nods softly. "You better text me."
"Yeah, of course." Tom bites his lip, suppressing is smile. "I will."
You smile and nod before you start to walk away. Before you get too far away, you let yourself go just for a second. What's the worst that can happen at this point? You turn to face Tom and the smile falls just a little while your brows knit together with anxiety. "You're right, ya know?" You say. "You make it very hard not to like you."
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