Fantasy and Putts - t.h. series [18+]

Meta-Fore of Love - part six

words » 11k

warnings » yeah you guessed it: angst ; but things end well

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"I don't think you understood what I was trying to say— Hmm, no."

"I think you didn't understand— Nope."

"I'm not sure you— Ugh, no, asshole, don't make this about you."

"Are you sure you underst— Can't make him sound illiterate either, fuck."

You're practicing what to tell Tom after the one-sided conversation you just had with him in the kitchen. You want to make sure he heard exactly what you were trying to say and not some twisted version of it, so you cross the living room carefully and stand in front of the bathroom door.

It's silent on the other side. Tom has been in there less than three minutes, you've counted on your phone, and it's starting to pick at your nerves. The damn digit won't change to the next minute on your lock screen when you hit the side button, so you stay there staring at it reluctantly. Behind it, a picture of your old dog Max gazes back at you.

It was the day of your reunion after the first time you had been away from home for more than two weeks in a row. You agreed to meet with your dog sitter at the park and when he saw you from a relative distance, Max just took off running towards you so you pulled out your phone and hit record. In the end, you chose a frame from that video as your lock screen and haven't changed it since. Even after Max's death of old age, you couldn't part with it.

When the digit finally changes from 6 to 7, you look up with a deep breath, but when you raise your hand to knock on the door, hesitation hits. You can't just barge in on his personal moment like this. Tom came all the way over here after you started talking to him for some reason. It's not your place to interrupt him even if you're slowly driving yourself mad from overthinking what he could be doing in the bathroom. Alone. After so much urgency, one would think something drastic was about to happen.

"Ugh!" you groan out of patience, turning around and leaning your head backwards. It thumps on the door harder than you wanted it to.

"I'll be right out," his muffled voice says.

"Sorry," you apologize, turning back around and pressing your temple against the door. Breathing heavily over your hand where it rests on the wood. You don't want to press, but you have to ask, "Can you tell me if you're okay?"

Before you get a proper answer, the door unlocks and Tom's face appears as soon as it's opened ajar. He doesn't look out of place, doesn't seem to be transmitting any kind of particular emotion to you, and you take a step back when he moves forward.

"Yeah, I'm all right," he says with a sniff.

"Are you sure?" you blurt out unexpectedly, rubbing the side of your neck at the same time. "Because I, uh—"

"You weren't finished?"

"It's not that," you reply, turning to him to see him step across the hallway. "Wanted to make sure you knew exactly what I was trying to say."

"Uh, yeah, I think I got it." Tom chuckles. He sounds nervous, or close.

"Please let me say it," you insist, not wanting any sort of misunderstanding between the two of you. You've been sharing your own intimate space for too long to leave anything unsaid right now.

"No," Tom is quick to curb your thoughts. He stands in the archway that goes into the living room, facing you, shoulders held high but tense. "We'll be all right... but I don't want to hear you say it."