XVII

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Trigger warning: talk of death/losing a loved one. Only for like the first 5 paragraphs. There will be a •• where it's safe to read again.

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Not edited, sorry for any errors.

"What's the hardest thing you've ever been through?" Tom asks, his this English accent setting in your heart, something you've heard for the past two nights.

You hum in response, slightly closing your eyes as you try to think. There's multiple things you could tell him about, but there's something that you always, always come back to.

"Back in 2010, I was starting 8th grade and my mom, she was in the hospital. She had been there since mid-August, and was there through September 11th. So almost a month? She had meningitis and if you didn't know like 1-in-3 people survive that. She was in a coma for like a week and gosh - Tom I could have lost my mom. She was in the ICU and we only got to see her once, and by the time she was okay again she looked so weak because she wasn't able to eat and she had lost so much weight. She spend 2 weeks in recovery doing physical therapy."

"Geez, Y/N. I'm so sorry. I couldn't imagine what life would be like without my mom. I'm glad she's all better now though, yeah?"

"Yeah." You sniffle, wiping away the tears that had escaped your eyes and cascaded down the apples of your cheeks only moments ago. "Yeah I talk to her just about every day. She's my best friend."

•• "Does she know about me?" He takes the chance to waver the subject to a happier one, a more playful conversation and his tone is hinting at it.

"She knows I'm talking to someone." You clarify. "She's too smart to think otherwise."

"And why's that?" He chuckles. "Are you always smiling and giddy? Are you a different person now that you have me in your life?"

"Shut up," You giggle. "Life's not all about you, Tom Holland."

"Whatever you say, Princess." The nickname alone makes you giddy - like some lame elementary schooler who just hugged her boyfriend for the first time.

"Hey, If you knew you were dying tomorrow - what would you do today?"

"Well that's easy." He says softly. "I'd meet you."

"You're so cheesy," You giggle, head thrown back as the dimple in your left cheek makes itself known.

"I have a question, something I've always been fairly curious about."

"Okay?"

"Why do you think they call it a bra?"

"You've always been curious about female undergarments?" You laugh, this boy is so odd.

"Well, I am a straight 23 year old male." He scoffs, tone playful. He's currently leaving the gym, black hoodie pulled over his head and gray shorts stopping just above his knees. He's walking along the sidewalk, headed towards the parking lot where his rental car is. "I don't have to worry about thongs though, given I know what they feel like."

"I kind of live for our 2am conversations,"

Laughing with and when it comes to Tom is quite possibly the easiest thing - talking to him is easy. He's quite possibly your favorite person, and he knows it too - you flat out admitted it the last time you spoke on the phone.

The calls last for hours, anywhere from 10pm-3am when you're both drinking on your own to when you're falling asleep. Tom snores in his sleep, you found that out the first time he ever heard your voice.

"I forget you have to wear a thong when you're in the suit."

"Well of course, don't want any panty lines." He jokes, and you can't help but smile. "Now, back to bras."

With a roll of your eyes, you swap tabs to the internet.

"Urban dictionary defines it as:

1. a barrier known to all men, that is almost the only thing between us(males) and the holy mounds known as BOOBS.

2. Battle ready author

3. A device to encage ones titties

4. Over the shoulder bolder holder."

He laughs, and you can hear the car door slam shut. Tom laughing may be one of your favorite sounds, and your heart feels as if it may burst any second just imagining it. Imagining his head against the car seat, sweat making his hair stick to his forehead, and his hands on the steering wheel.

"I don't know what's funnier, the fact that some dude actually referred to them as holy mounds or the bolder holder."

"I'm so glad you're easily amused," You snark, pulling your bedsheets up to your face and curling in on yourself. "But now I have to ask, are you more of a boobs or butt guy?"

"Ehhh.. should we really be having this conversation?" His voice sounds more distant, and you can only assume it's because he's swapped the call to Bluetooth.

"Depends, are you gonna be a buttface about it?"

"You know, I'm always so surprised by your colorful language," He chuckles.

"Hey, I'm just tryin' to keep it G."

"And asking me such a question is keeping it G-rated?!" He enthusiasts, and all you can imagine is him blushing, flustered down to the point that a vein in his neck is popping out.

"Well.. maybe PG, a little more on the 13 side."

"Unbelievable, you're a dirty dirty liar." He tisks.

You stay silent for a moment, a bubble of guilt growing in your stomach. Liar. He doesn't even know. You laugh it off, but he can't see the frown on your lips. The whole situation is disheartening, and now you just wanna hang up. You need to tell him and soon - but how do you bring something like that up?

"I honestly couldn't tell you, I imagine it would be nice to grab onto something on both ends."

"You imagine? Are you really telling me you haven't had sex and gotten to experience it?"

"Oh gosh, this conversation has really taken a turn."

"You started it!"

"Um, well. I mean I'm not a virgin, but I haven't slept with a lot of people so I mean.."

"I see," you hum. "I don't imagine you as the kind of guy who would sleep around anyways."

"Not like most Hollywood stars then?" He chuckles, hands tightening around the leather covered steering wheel of the Range Rover.

"I don't think Hollywood stars actually sleep around as much as everyone thinks they do."

"Yeah. So now I have to ask.." he clears his throat. "Are you? A virgin, I mean. Are you a virgin?"

"Yes," you exhale.

"Oh. Cool."

And yeah, it's a bit awkward.

"I just don't wanna give it up to some guy who doesn't at least plan on sticking around for awhile, ya'know?"

"Yeah, I get it. I wish I had waited a bit longer for my first. We broke up like the following week."

"That sucks, sorry Tommy."

"It could have been worse." A lazy smile tugs at his lips, a content sigh coming from him. "Okay, I'm gonna let you go to bed. Good night, Y/N."

"Good night, Tom."

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