What Would They Say - mob!Tom x Reader

Five

"You look nervous,"

"I am nervous," I admit. My finger is tapping against the side of the coffee mug in my hand, my eyes rake over Tom's appearance. He's sat back, coffee held in one hand, relaxed as he looks at me.

"Why are you nervous?" Tom questions, his characteristic smirk still in place as his eyes follow my every movement.

"Because you're you," I say, looking down as I feel my cheeks flush red in embarrassment.

"I'm glad you're aware that I'm me," Tom comments, taking a slow drink from his mug of coffee as he watches me. "You look nice today, I don't think I ever said," Tom says and, for the first time today, I can hear a hint of uncertainty in his voice. I grin at him.

"I'm just wearing my work clothes, Tom,"

"You always look nice, Princess," I bite my lip to stop myself from smiling too wide at the new pet name. "Where are you from originally, Princess?" He asks, clearly catching on to my liking of the name, a softer smile than before playing at the corners of his lips. I feel myself relax a little under his warm gaze.

"The countryside, just outside of Oxford, the middle of nowhere to be honest," I tell him, smiling a little at the fond memories of my childhood. "What about you?"

"London, born and bred. I mean, being a leader of a mob does tend to be a family business," Tom says, an easy smile on his face, but one that still makes me understand that the topic of his childhood is closed. "Where did you go to school?"

"A private one in Oxford. I got in on scholarship in year 7 and stayed all the way through to the end of sixth form,"

"So that's where you met your friends?" He asks, cocking his head in interest. I nod a little shyly.

"Yeah, I met the four of them at school, I have other friends from uni but I'm closer to my home friends,"

"I've known Harrison my whole life," Tom says after a moment of silence. He's looking away from me, a small frown on his face. "He knows everything about me," he says and I don't reply, sensing that he's forgotten my presence with him at the table. "He was with me when I found out what my dad did. We were told not to tell my brothers," he seems to snap back to reality then, looking at me, his eyes blinking quickly. He recovers soon after, the smirk returning to his face.

"Do you have any siblings?"

"Yeah, an older sister and a younger brother,"

"Middle child," he comments and I smile, nodding. "I'm the oldest of four, all boys,"

"Your poor mum," I laugh and he grins back.

"She always tells us she can't wait for one of us to get a girlfriend so she has a girl to talk to," I laugh at that.

"Before my brother was born, Mum used to complain about having no boys and Dad used to tell her that I was a pretty good replacement, seeing as though all of my friends growing up were males," those were the days before Dad got sick. I add the detail in in my brain, not feeling the need to talk to Tom about it. If he could have secrets and topics to side-step away from, so could I.

"I can't imagine you being very girly growing up," Tom admits and I sigh, shaking my head.

"I played football a lot. I stopped in my GCSE year of school, though,"

"How come?" Tom questions before draining his cup of coffee. I do the same and he holds his hand out to me, pulling me up from the seat.

"Just... ran out of time," I settle on. Tom frowns, clearly realising that it wasn't the whole reason and obviously wanting to push until I tell him the truth.