𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 | tom blyth

.009 // claire

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     "SHE KEEPS blowing up my phone," Claire told the Brit. Tom had just arrived at his flat from grabbing breakfast to-go for the both of them, where he noticed she was typing away on her phone at the kitchen's bar. Setting the paper bags on the counter in front of her, he raised a brow at her concern-laced tone. "I didn't think news traveled that fast. And now Gracie's living it up and trying to get me to spill details. But I don't even have details!"

"I think you're overthinking things," Tom hummed. Should I eat now or wait for her to calm down? he thought to himself.

Her hand twisted the phone's screen to show the male. Thanks to her best friend, the image of them holding hands was being spammed in the text messages to her. "Says you."

He tried his best to hold the grin playing his lips from forming. She was flustered and, admittedly, he found it a great sight.

"Oh, you think this is funny?"

"I think you're funny, is all."

Claire huffed as she put down the phone. He rummaged through the paper bags before sliding a breakfast sandwich her way. The wrapping around it had spots of grease and coated her fingertips as she unwrapped it. "I just—"

"Eat," Tom interrupted. She stayed silent, taking a bite of the sandwich and looking around his place. It was quaint.

"Sorry if I ruined anything for you," Claire said, the food in her mouth muffling her words.

Tom took a bite of his sandwich. His head tilted to the side in confusion, prompting her to continue.

"If you were, y'know, talking to someone or missed a role because of the rumors..."

Tom's brows lifted in amusement. A smile grew on his lips. He set his breakfast on the counter. "Are you safe?"

"What?"

"Are you safe? In one piece?"

"I—" Claire looked down at her body to double check, only nodding in assurance. "Yeah?"

"That's all I care about," Tom said.

"Until you don't," she countered. She set her own sandwich down this time and stood out of the chair she was in.

"You can't keep pushing people away, Claire," he said, reaching to grab her hand but missing it only slightly due to her moving away from him. "Let people care about you."

Claire could feel the tears in her eyes as her face heated up. This was one conversation she wouldn't have. Not with her family and especially not with Tom. "I have to go," her voice was hoarse, throat thick with swelling from emotion. "Thanks for, uh, breakfast."

The brunet's feet moved toward her and, with a quick motion, his hand grasped her forearm and gently pulled her toward his body. He wouldn't force her to stay but he wouldn't let her leave without her knowing how he was feeling. Even if it was a stupid crush that wasn't reciprocated... it was honest and worth confessing.

Claire's brown eyes lifted slowly to his blue ones and stayed on them. The only sound between them was their breathing and the occasional chirp of a bird outside. "You don't have to be alone," he said lowly. Not so much a whisper, but only low enough for her to hear if anyone else would have been around.

Claire nodded.
Tom didn't want to blink.
Her eyes shifted to his lips.
His hands slowly snaked their way to the sides of her face, palms just below her jawline with his thumbs grazing themselves over her tinted cheeks. Fingers placed themselves on his left wrist.