Seven dates. Three and a half months. Secret meetings to avoid any rumors in the media, yet Tom rarely had an hour to himself where his thoughts weren't on the woman.
It also didn't help that she was cast as the female lead in Spider-Man: Far from home.
More specifically, the love interest.
Only seven dates, yet Tom found a strong comfort in her presence. He felt immediately at ease when she was around; he acted better, spoke better, dealt with paparazzi better. She made him feel more confident and in control, while also reducing him to a puddle of nerves with a single smile.
He had it bad, and everybody knew it.
"So you gonna tell her you want her to have your babies, yet?" Jacob asked him, wiggling his eyebrows at the brunet man.
Harrison clipped him round the ear, "no, you idiot. He's going to propose first!"
Tom simply rolled his eyes at his best mates. If they could tell that Tom was falling fast, then did Y/N know?
If she didn't, should he tell her?
Is it too soon?
I don't know, but I think I may be fallin' for you. Dropping so quickly.
He wanted to say that he knew her inside and out. Knew what made her heart beat fast, her palms swear, her stomach flip; what little things interested her, the way her nose crinkled when she was focusing, or even the way she slept, but he didn't.
He knew so much about her, yet so little at the same time.
He knew her hopes and dreams, how many kids she wanted, her views on global warming, her career aspirations, her family life, but he didn't know the little things.
He wanted to know everything about her, for she quickly became everything to him.
He was falling hard, and fast. She was his tipping point, and like Lucifer he left his spot up high, just to plummet into her depths as if she was the earth beneath his feet. Or at least, that's how he looked at her.
He wanted to tell her, but he didn't want to scare her off.
Maybe I should keep this to myself
Waiting 'til I know you better
Every time she is near, it's as if the words are on his lips. He can't stop himself from staring at her, thinking of how beautiful she is and how he is so happy to call her his.
In an ideal world he would have the courage to tell her everything on his mind without fear of her leaving. His line of work isn't the most private, and he fears getting close to anybody for fear of being used.
Even now, as they lay on his lounge room floor, staring up at the glow in the dark stars she had painted, his eyes are on her and the words are on his lips.
He yearns to whisper them to her, to hold her body close to his and embrace the warmth of love alongside her.
But does he know her well enough?
I am trying, not to tell you
But I want to,
I'm scared of what you'll say
She turned her head to face his, their lips a breath apart.
"What're you thinking about, Tommy?" She smiled at him. A genuine, toothy grin that sent his heart leaping into his throat.
He cleared his throat awkwardly, yet she didn't budge from her spot.
"Not much, just how beautiful you are," he sent her a grin to match, and a slight flush rose to her cheeks.
"Whatever you say, lover boy," she rolled her eyes, pecking him on the lips before turning her gaze back to the randomly painted stars.
