how to get away with relationships ; jack falahee

i r l ; 15

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god this bitch is gorgeous

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the limousine ride was, underwhelming, if that.

i understand that limousines are a kind of sign of wealth and status, but it's only fun when there's someone else in there with you. otherwise, it's just a long car with a bunch of empty seats that were screaming to be used.

le grand maison is about as far away from my apartment as australia is to the rest of the damn world. the restaurant was in this remote town with gorgeous scenery, where a lot of the produce had been grown fresh right there. their meats, their poultry, wines, cheese, it was all made in house and that just makes it that much more exciting. i was at least hoping that the driver would go to pick tom up so that we could start off the day, together.

but i was in the limousine, listening to shitty pop music that the driver refused to change, and alone; with only the sparkling cider to keep me company and the silent driver. i guess beggars can't be choosers but to put it simply, i was lonely and miserable.

let's just hope that some hearty brunch with my favourite spider-man is going to be worth it.

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remember when i said hearty brunch? i completely forgot about the whole flamboyant and fancy thing.

i show up at the restaurant, after another gruelling hour of literally nothing, knowing tom was already inside because he texted me. i step out of the vehicle and onto the slippery, dusty red carpet laid out at the entrance of le grand maison.

there were some paparazzi, unsurprisingly as they knew tom holland was here. but i walk in with the same grateful smile i do usually and try to find tom.

waving at the hostess, who looked like a deer in the headlights, i was lead to the dead center of the entire restaurant. a massive table stood in front of me, with two chairs on either end. tom, sitting on one side with his mouth completely agape. to be fair, mine was too. the entire table was completely empty.

i mean there was a single flower in the middle of the table, but other than that, it reminds me of the limousine ride again. just a blank, white table cloth and space that was waiting to be filled with something.

i just didn't know what that something was.

"enjoy your meal ms jones." the waitress remarks, scuttling away as tom stands up, already clad in a smart looking suit and tie.

"you are looking as dapper as ever." i comment in the worst possible british accent i could muster, poking fun at his own english speech.

"as are you." he smiles, kissing the back of my hand.

i felt goosebumps on my skin and a blush inching its way onto my cheeks. i didn't know what i was feeling, these butterflies in my stomach were unprecedented, nor did i know if i liked it or not.

the eyes of everyone in the restaurant were on us, but i could feel myself smile at the attention. this was what we used to do when us dating was just a pr stunt so homecoming got more attention. a little scandal between on screen lovers, in real life, always got the crowd hyped up. but that was never real. it was always just the two of us, hanging out like the best friends we are—um—were and doing what we did best. act.

this?

this was intimate, real. not some fake relationship that our publicist forced us into.

just plain old, raw emotions. that i didn't want. not in the slightest.

the two of us sit down at opposite ends of the massive table, being incredibly awkward as we normally would be, but the situation was much worse when you put a 50 foot table between us. when food was immediately being placed in front of us, hot and still steaming, i felt myself smile.

until i looked closer at the food that is.

it was all so small on the plate, nothing filling or hearty about any of them at all. i take a plate of what looked to be deconstructed eggs benedict that took up the corner of the massive plate. not that i could've have expected anything more from a 3 michelin starred and expensive restaurant.

but the tension was so thick, you could cut it with a fucking knife. everyone was staring at us, which meant their conversation was minimal. i couldn't talk to tom without screaming my head off because he's so far away.

so i shut my mouth and try to deal with it instead of feeling uncomfortable. not that i had a choice of the matter.

but if i'm going to be honest. if i were to personify the lack of speech, it felt like someone had a gun at my head. i knew the gun was empty, and it was as cold as a block of ice. they'd keep telling me they won't shoot the gun.

but there is always that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that they were lying.

and that a bullet was going to fire through my head.

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ugh it's shit i know! i just had to get something out.

anyways... how was you guy's day?

i legitimately feel like shit. i have the worst headache and i feel sick to my stomach.

so much love though you guys <3

shits about to get good!

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