#dtwrites

Her laughter fades and her eyes shift from the guests in front of her to Tom. A small smile sprouts on her lips as she eyes him. His suit a size too small as it clings to his buffer frame since he last wore it. His wrists show a good inch past the jacket arms. His tie too long, hanging past the button on the navy blue slacks. His hair had his fingers raked through it one too many times and the blood shot eyes left the new bride knowing exactly that Tom was indeed drunk, on her wedding day. Tom Holland, her best friend couldn’t even put a little effort in for her special day. With a soft smile and a nod, the princess of the night excuses herself and grips her dress at each end to hold it up so she can quickly cross the room to Tom.

“Come here.” She mumbles as she passes. Tom gathers himself and follows after. They enter an empty room with make up and day closes strewn about. The conclusion is this was where Y/n had gotten prepared for earlier. Where she had been transformed from a girl to a bride. It almost intensifies the pain in Tom’s chest by being in here.

“I can’t believe you’re drunk Tom!” Her words cut deep and maybe it’s the champagne or maybe it’s that he’s held this in too long that the dam is breaking. Without a second thought a flood breaks loose.

“Y/n really? You can’t believe I’m drunk?” He shoots back leaning against the wall looking at her dress covered feet. When his eyes finally flick up to face her she holds an exasperated expression and moves her arm to inquire more of an explanation. The cloudy headed boy rolls his tongue over his lips as he sucks in a breath before continuing.

“I can’t believe you’ve never noticed really. Y/n from the first time I saw you, you-you stole my heart Y/n. I knew from the very first moment you introduced yourself. I wanted you. I wanted to make you mine. A-and. And when you read your poems or the songs you’ve written, the songs you’ve only ever shared with me. I wished. I wish they’re about me.” Tom has to correct himself from speaking in past tense because no matter what, the love he has for the girl before him, he’ll always have hope. He could never give up the girl of his dreams. He can’t bring himself to raise his eyes to look at her. His vision now fuzzy not from one too many glasses but from tears. His heart can’t take the pent up pain and it now releases itself in tears. He pinches the bridge of his nose to not only conceal his face from her but in an effort to stop crying.

“I know. I know you’re married now. God you’re married. I can’t believe that sentence just left my mouth.” He tries to continue but the more he speaks aloud, the more reality hits him in the face. A strangled cry leaves his throat as he speaks and he pulls at his collar suddenly feeling too tight. As he runs a hand trough his hair, he’s lost count at how many times he’s done this action tonight, he blinks up at the vaulted ceiling with his signature holland puppy dog eyes.

“I don’t think he deserves you Y/n. Hell nobody deserves you. You’re too good. Too good for any asshole of a guy. I’m not even good enough for you.” The unraveling boy continues in his monologue all while Y/n stands there tears welling in her eyes at her best friend. Her best friend she’ll only see as a best friend. But a best friend she’s never intended to hurt this way.

“I’ve been there to wipe your tears before, but I want to be the one who not only can wipe your tears but can truly make you feel better. I want to be the one who can kiss your lips Y/n. God, can I just be him?” He questions rhetorically. He knows fully well he was born Tom Holland and Tom Holland was not the name of your new husband and he’ll never be him. Tom slides himself down the wall and folds into his chest, knees pulled tightly to his inward. He lets out gasps as he sobs. Mumbling “can I be him? Can I be him? Can I be him?” Over and over in a chant as he rocks back and forth hitting his back against the wall harder each time. Maybe wishing dust would fall off the old chapel walls and make his wish come true like in your favorite movie 13 going on 30. But even in Tom’s drunken state he knows no mater how hard he cried or how many wishes he made, he’d never be him.

“Tommy, oh my god Tommy. Please don’t cry, I’m-I’m so sorry.” Y/n drops in front of Tom not caring about the pearl white dress staying pearl white. She needs to consul her best friend right now. Her words fall on deaf ears though as Tom pushes her hands away from him.

“Y/n, do you love me?” He looks up eyes even more bloodshot now. His eyebrows are pulled downward trying to hold back the continual tears. “Do you?” He asks again forcing an answer.

“Tommy of course I do but just not like I love him.” Y/n answers and looks down sadly. If only the love she does have for him would be enough. But it’s not enough for Tom.

“Then don’t. Don’t try to help just-just go.” His voice almost cracks as he pushes the bride, his best friend, the love of his life away. Slowly she stands and with a small nod exits the room. Another resemblance Tom held with love in films and novels is the pain. The pain of unrequited love.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated! 

Tom Holland has never in his life met someone quite like you. So full of life and so eager to smile. Maybe it was the first meeting when he pulled his jaw weird and held his eyes wide open as he moaned like he was dying. His test he’d pulled on all the  people his mother tried to hire. You didn’t look appalled just confused. And you still held a smile, even if it looked more painful to hold you did it. Just like you’re doing as you look at him right now, holding a smile even if you’d rather not.  

Tom has never had a girl be so invested in his life, in keeping him alive than you have. When you waltzed in the room that day in what seemed like a costume more than an outfit he honestly found himself laughing. The horses spread across your attire held so many sarcastic comments but the joy in your eyes as you explained the day to him. He couldn’t say them. He went for you. Even when he could walk he hated walking into the stadium to bet on horses and sit for hours in the  hot sun only for the chances to hardly be in his families favor. 

When you showed up with the symphony tickets Tom realized he actually was taking a liking to the girl with colorful outfits who didn’t do much but work and spend time with her family. When you entreated the room that night an Harrison, his nurse, let out a wowza, he knew as soon as he laid his chocolate eyes on you he’d be falling fast. And he was right. The red dress laid beautifully on your figure and there was the 100 watt smile plastered on your face. He’d wanted to ask if your cheeks ever hurt from all the smiling.

“Loose the scarf.” He’d said trying to keep up his wall. He couldn’t be falling in Love he thought to himself.

“Tom Holland, only you would tell a girl how to wear a red dress.” You’d laughed and slid it from around your neck gently. In moments like this you weren’t being cocky or overly confident, it just didn’t register with you that four eyes were on you. The symphony was full when you arrived and Tom couldn’t fully enjoy himself from something pricking his neck. You’d discovered it’s a tag and without any scissors leaned up and bit the tag removing it. The look up surprise on Tom’s face had you chuckle.

“Thank god it wasn’t on your trousers.” You say as the show begins. Tom then realizes maybe you just don’t care what people think, you’re just truly you. And that is a lovable quality.

The wedding invitation may open on the table. Tom’s old work make was marrying his ex girlfriend. The girlfriend he’d pushed away after the accident. He’d invited to take you somewhere. A third date with Tom. The boy you couldn’t deny the feelings growing. As you determined to make his life so amazing he’d want to keep it, you agreed to go. While there he called you beautiful for the first time. A memory you’d always cherish.

 “Why don’t you say you give me a whirl.” You surprise him with suggestion as you say gently on his lap. As he wheels to the dance floor you can help but laugh happily as he spins you in circles.

“Are they all looking on disgusted?” He asks with a laugh of his own. It’s deep in his belly and you can feel it’s a true laugh. You nod still laughing but not breaking eye contact wit him.

“Take me away, let’s go somewhere just you and I.” Another suggestion from your lips that shocks him. He didn’t think he could have a girl have feelings for him in this state. Maybe maybe for just a moment you’ve convinced him. That is until the next morning when you return from a night spent in a hotel he came down with a bad case of pneumonia. His fourth case within two years.

You’d planned for two weeks, you’d thought of all the worse case scenarios and even got Harrison on board for this holiday. The Indian Ocean Islands it was. The Holland’s agreed to it and even though they’ve never spoken it they appreciate all your efforts. If anyone could had done it, it would have been you. The holiday was lovely. Tom and you shared your first kiss. It was while a storm was heavy outside and you left the doors open to watch it. It was after a long day on the beach sunbathing. The next day he’d encouraged you to scuba dive. To try new things. And it was then both you and Tom stopped fighting your feelings. It was when Tom confessed about his plans to end his life.

“I know Tom.” You said simply smiling at him as you expected him to explain how he’d changed his mind.

“I gave my parents six months. And when I get back....I’m going to Switzerland.” He surprises you with your words. To hold a smile still would weigh too much. It dropped and tears held heavy in your eyes.

“No no no Tom.” Was all that would slip out. You clung to his chest and let the tears land on his shirt.

“I can’t give you what I should be able to Y/n. Hell I can’t even wipe your tears right now. I can’t vacation with you, I could never be what you deserve. You’ll miss out and I’ll only hold you back.” He tries to start you to understand. You pick up your head shaking it back and forth not caving. You could never agree with this.

“Y/n I can’t even do. God what I wish I could do to you right now, I can’t.” He speaks again after you kiss him softly. A small laugh leaves his lips they’re still close to yours and his hot breath fans across your face.

“No please.” You manage one last time as he continues to try and explain his decision.

At first you were mad. You wouldn’t talk to him or even look at him as you traveled back home. But after speaking with your sister she explained how wrong it would be if you weren’t by his side. He’d ask you come with him well on holiday but you couldn’t bare the thought. But that was past and now reality seeps in. You’re not in his flat or on holiday or at a symphony. You’re laying on his chest in Switzerland as it’s about to happen. As the steady heart beat you feel will soon stop and the love of your life won’t be here to love you back anymore. No more kisses, no more laughs, no more memories.

“I’m going to kidnap you.” You speak after pulling away from the kiss. The kiss that sparked so many thought. He smiles up at you and his heart swells. Y/n Clark always one to stay positive in the worst of situations. Always one to make jokes. Always one to still be able to smile while crying.

“Where will we go?” Tom questions wishing he could run his hand down your back to calm you down and wipe the endless tears from your eyes. He could even come to the conclusion of self loathing because he couldn’t do that for you, he can’t do anything for you. And that is what helps him to not change his mind. You don’t deserve this kind of life.

“Paris.” You answer. The one word sentence doesn’t need more detail. He knows the reference. As he squeezes his eyes shut he imagines the two of you sitting across from each other in those chairs that never sit level on the pavement. It’s hot out but there’s a nice breeze. As you both sip your cups of strong coffee and spread raspberry jam with unsalted butter on a fresh croissant. He’d find himself reaching a hand across the table to hold yours and all the pretty french girls trying to give him the eye he’d ignore. He’d only look at you with love and adoration and happiness. Even though in his mind he was facing you, he had no doubt your legs would be clad in the bumblebee striped tights. A smile is held on his face, his eyes closed. And that is how he spends his last moments. You in his arms, the feeling of your breath on his chest and the thought of Paris with you outside his favorite cafe.

A/N: Okay so this isn’t my best I just love this movie ok like I wish I wrote this movie tbh