Imagines: Thomas Brodie Sangster

Late (3/3)

The next day

You are back in front of your house, but you don't dare to go in. You're too scared of what might happen. What if Thomas doesn't love you anymore? What if you find him kissing another girl?

After hesitating for a few more minutes, you decide to take a peek through the window. It's dark, but you can still discern Thomas' silhouette huddled in the couch and shattered glass shining on the floor.

You immediately rush inside, panicking, and switch on the lights. Thomas' hair is a mess, dark circles underline his eyes and he's all pale. You run to the couch and crouch beside him, gently taking his hand in yours. 

"Thomas... It's me, Y/N... I came back..."

He coughs a little and his eyelids open. He squeezes your hand and suddenly pulls you against him. 

"I thought... you would leave... for good..." he sobs in your shoulder as you soothingly rub his back. 

"Calm down, it's okay... everything's fine," you whisper in his ear. 

You help him get up from the couch. He staggers to the bathroom, holding on to your arm tightly.

While he washes up you start cleaning the mess. Empty bottles of beer are laying everywhere, either completely shattered or still half-empty. 

After half an hour or so, you're finally done. You can't help wondering how you could forgive him this easily though. This morning, you felt so angry at him but seeing him devastated like he was made your heart fall again. 

As you're lost in your thoughts, you suddenly hear arriving from behind. He gently grabs your waist and pulls you against him as he attacks your neck with soft kisses. 

"I'm... sorry..." he mumbles against your skin. You pull away and turn around, to see a wave of pain and disappointment in his eyes. 

"Why?" he asks with a barely audible voice. 

"I should be the one to ask that," you answer as calmly as you can. 

Thomas takes your hand. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I really am. I shouldn't have reacted like that. I was really nervous yesterday because I messed up with my script and the director wasn't happy about it - "

"Can I ask you where you were, last evening, or will you get angry and slap me again?" I interrupt with lightning in my eyes. 

Thomas gulps down. 

"At - at a bar," he says, but you know he's lying. 

"Tell me the truth."

He avoids your look and stares down at his feet. "TELL ME!" you scream, which makes him jump. Tears are threatening to fall, but you can't allow yourself to cry. You can't be weak in front of him. 

"I - I met this girl," he starts. Except you've heard enough to understand what was going on. You run upstairs and lock yourself in your and Thomas' room. He runs after you and bangs on the door loudly.

"Y/N! Y/N, please, open!"

You quickly pack all of your belongings in your suitcase then slam the door open. He looks down at your suitcase. His eyes become watery and his whole body starts shaking. 

"No, no, no, no. You can't - you can't do this to me, Y/N."

You walk past him, roughly pushing him aside, carrying your suitcase in your hand. You get back downstairs, but just as you're about to leave he grabs your wrist, making you let go your stuff and pulls you against him. 

"You can't leave. Please, Y/N," he pleads you. "Let me explain-"

"There's nothing to explain. Now let me go or I'll scream," you order coldly. 

He shakes his head. You open your mouth to scream, but the sound never comes out of your mouth, because Thomas roughly kisses you as he pushes you against the wall. 

And like every time he kisses you, you completely lose control. It feels too good to stop. Your body takes over as you kiss back, and your fingers stroke his golden locks, although your heart is yelling at you to push him away and leave for good.

"Will you listen to me now?" he asks. You glare at him, gathering the bit of common sense you've got left. 

"You have one minute to explain," you harshly say. 

"That's more than enough," he answers with a playful, annoying smirk before his face goes serious again. "So as I said, I met this girl in the bar. I've had a couple of drinks already, and she managed to get our address out of my mouth. She threatened to harm you. And - "

"Stop," you cut him off. "I get it. You're an idiot, Thomas Sangster. You're really, a bloody idiot. You might be the worst idiot I've ever met."

Then you gently press your lips against his. "But you're my idiot," you whisper with a smile.

Thomas' eyes begin to shine. He lifts you up and twirls you around, before crashing your mouthes together. 

"And I'm never letting you go," he whispers back.