The Cherry House

The Cherry House Part 4

Tom POV:

She handed Harry and Harrison their drinks, sipping innocently on hers as she watched them with amusement. I stood and I watched her interact with my brothers and best friend, them clearly growing more fond of her by the minute. She giggled as they argued over who could be crowned second best pool player out of us five, claiming she would never answer who she believed should hold the title as Harry pried at her for a response.

 A tap on my shoulder took me away for a moment, and a guy no younger than me stood there, his hands wrapped awkwardly around his phone. I glance back to Y/n as I agree to take a photo with him, catching her sneaking eyes for a brief moment before they slipped from the grasp of mine. The light from the camera flashed against my eyes, black dots forming in every direction I look as I blink away the darkening collage trapped in my sight. The young man smiles and thanks me, as I turn back to head to Y/n propping herself on a stool, coaching Harrison and Sam simultaneously from a distance. I walk over to her slowly, growing more nervous now, I tighten my hand around my beer and sit down on the wooden stool next to her, her eyes drifting to mine as she smirked cheekily at the notice of my shyness. I wanted to catch them again yet I know how dangerous it could be if I fell captive under their spell. Looking into her eyes were like stepping into a puddle. You never want to yet splashing in them seems too irresistible. 

She swirled the faint yellow beverage in her hand, tapping the side of the glass gently as she pushed aside the fallen hair from her face.

Tom: You don't like beer?

Her head turned to me, her rosy lips forming a smile as she shook her head at me question.

Y/n: I don't drink.

She replied simply, setting down the now empty glass and instructing Harrison to hit the yellow ball instead of the red.

Tom: Oh. Sorry I didn't know.

Y/n: That's okay. To be fair, I do spend most of my time in pubs, so I get why it's a bit of a surprise.

She chuckled and I placed my half drunken bottle down on the bar.

Tom: Well if you won't drink tonight, I won't either.

She furrowed her eyebrows at me and scoffed before trying to hand me back my drink, but I held my hands up in defence and refused to do so, earning a sigh and an eye roll as a result.

Y/n: You don't have to not drink because of me. Honestly it's fine.

Tom: Well I don't want you to feel like you're babysitting us since you'll be the only sober one. And I don't mind. Really.

She shook her head and smiled softly.

Y/n: Okay then, thanks.

We looked away, taking an opportunity to study the pub in more detail. The yellow lights breathed their warm air against our skins, heating us up with the help of the alcohol settling inside our bodies and minds. Harrison cheered enthusiastically in the corner of the room having sunk his final ball, chanting and flaunting his success in front of Sam, much to his displeasure. Y/n and I laughed as we watched the utter embarrassment on his face as it flushed bright red, rushing over to us as Harry and him continue to celebrate.

Sam: I think we should call it a night.

He suggested, causing us to snicker and nod before ushering Harry and Harrison out of the pub and into the cold night air. I turn to Y/n who was warming her hands up by rubbing them aggressively together, blowing hot air into them and rubbing her bare arms. I begin to take off my jacket to hand to her as she shakes her head and pushed me away.

Y/n: No no I'm fine.

I raise my eyebrow at her as I wait for her teeth to start to chatter which I was sure would happen at any moment. Her expression stayed firm and stubborn, but I wasn't going to take no for an answer either.

Tom: You're not fine.

Y/n: Well then you'll be cold.

Tom: I won't be. Please just take it.

I insist and her shoulder melt under the warmth of my jacket as I place it around her. She pulls her arms through and brings it across her chest as she holds out her arms to present how large it was on her. She looked so adorable engulfed in my jacket, her fingers only poking out the slightest bit.

Y/n: Thank you.

Tom: Now who's the cute one?

She smiles and glanced over to the boys getting into the Uber to escape the harshness of the cold, shutting the door and calling us over to enter. Her smile soon fades, and I watch her shake her head slightly as I ask her to join us.

Y/n: No I can't.

Tom: Why not?

Y/n: I don't live that far, you guys go home.

Tom: Y/n I'm not leaving you in the street on your own at this time of night.

Y/n: I'll be fine.

Tom: Stop making this harder than it has to be, just let me take you home.

Y/n: No Tom.

She said sternly. Her eyes trying to be harsh yet the desperate plead in them climbed its way through. I nod and step closer to her, the warmth of her body greeting mine as we stood inches away. I take her hands in mine, bringing them up to my lips carefully as she watched in silence. I left a gentle kiss on her knuckles, bringing our hands back down and parting as I turned to head to the car and stole one final glance at her before the engine sputtered to life, and we drove off without her.

Y/n POV:

I rushed back to my house, ignoring the catcalls and inviting music of the pub, I practically jogged my way there.

 I stood wearily at the door, an uneasy silence floating around as I stepped foot inside. But the sound of glass crackling under my shoe penetrated the deadly quiet, and the sound of me kicking the broken shards underneath the radiator echoed inside the narrow hallway. I tiptoed into the kitchen, hoping a single glass could have been left unharmed unlike the rest who's lives were inevitably cut short by the one responsible of all this mess. 

I pause to listen out for footsteps, gasping in shock as I instead see him slumped over the armchair, chugging a bottle of wine as it spilled messily on his stained white top. He moved it away from his lips and looked me up and down, pushing himself off of the chair with great effort and stumbling clumsily into the kitchen. I place the glass back in the cabinet, holding my breath as he neared, the stench of alcohol and whatever else radiating off of him, the growing desire to gag weakening my stance. He grinned and shook his head in disapproval.

Rick: Now where have you been poppet?