#tomhaz

I blinked in disbelief.

"Return it to me in ten minutes at microscope number seven," he whispered and shifted to the next specimen, carefully observing and writing the conclusion in the extra sheet.

I took in a sharp breath, remembered God and ran my pen on my paper. I changed the text structure and numbering a little bit. Five questions were enough for me to pass in aggregate.

When I got to the sixth specimen I had written enough to pass and slid his paper back to him, mumbling a thank you. He simply nodded like it was nothing. He again smiled at me. The kind of smile that made his clear blue eyes shiny and corners crinkle.

I wished I knew how to smile like that. I returned him a smile, surely not even one percent of the brightness of his. He stapled the pages together and moved to deposit the papers like most of the other students and walked out of the lab.

I had read his name on the paper— Harrison John Osterfield.

***

From that day on, I observed that he was pretty famous in our boarding school, always in the good books of the teachers. He studied in the other section and lived in hostel number five.

I didn't stalk him, he was just one of those people who were way too visible on the school campus. I have seen him setting up posters, sitting in the cafeteria, library, park and almost everywhere on the campus. Sometimes he would be walking around the gardens, headphones tucked in his ears, sometimes he would be sitting on the bench reading a book or sometimes doing his homework in the library.

I don't know if he noticed me. I am surely not that visible.

But one other thing that I noticed was that every time I saw him, he was mostly alone.

There was a difference between us.

He was alone but not lonely. I was alone and lonely.

He seemed to enjoy his company. And I was asking myself why I was even alive.

I studied till four in the morning almost every day but couldn't even remember a bloody terminology. It was like the words hated me. I surely hated them too but had no choice. I was stuck with them and they refused to stay with me.

Most of my nights were also spent silently weeping under my covers while everyone in my room was asleep. I used to wake up and see the tear stains on my white pillow covers. The only thing consistent in my life.

But today I washed the covers too.

***

I got to know that he was also a member of the club- The Inkers. Basically the group of smart students. They represented the school in debates, quizzes and other stuff.

And here I was reading the exact same page of my physics textbook for the third time. My mind keeps dozing off.

If...

What if...

What if I ask him to help me?

I shook off the desire and wiped my eyes. The tears were blurring my vision as they always do.

Electromagnetic induction... I began reading. I can't understand the equation, no matter how much I try.

I pushed the book aside, switched off my table lamp and got inside the covers. My eyes were too dry to continue with my daily night routine. I hope I won't see tear marks on the fresh pillow covers this time.

***

I found myself standing outside the room assigned for 'The Inkers'. The club name was written in bold on the door which was half-opened.

I could see students sitting, walking, talking, interacting. This place was definitely not meant for me. I then saw him. He was talking to a group of students. Seemed like he was instructing them.

His smile was still so bright and he talked with his hands while tucking at the end of his jacket ever so often. Everything he does added to his style and charm.

He looked so approachable. Yet I failed to approach him.

I clenched my books tighter and walked away.

This became more like a routine. As the exams came nearer, I found myself walking across 'The Inkers' more often but never dared to knock at the door.

Weirdly, I had stopped crying myself to sleep, hoping the next day I'll ask him for help in studies and he'll help me.

My interactions with him were all in my sleep, in my dreams. I'd smile remembering my time with him even if it was in my imagination. I imagine him sitting across me, explaining me the weird exceptions in inorganic chemistry or explaining the key features of bryophytes or telling me a trick to learn the concept of electromagnetic induction.

***

I remember his smile. I remember his blue eyes. I remember how clear and shiny they were. I remember how his cheeks pushed up and made those eyes crinkle.

I remember how his lips curved when he was giving the speech on Renaissance literature. I remember how his expressions hardened, how he tried to contain his sadness and anger when talking about things like climate change, animal cruelty and so on.

I attended all the debates and speech competitions in which he participated this month, sitting at the back seat seeing him, hoping he doesn't see me.

He was an amazing orator. The way his voice carried his emotions was extremely heart-touching. He could make everybody feel what he felt.

I got a 'B+' in my E-waste management essay. I still can't believe. I heard his debate on the topic and... Wow. The teacher was impressed by me. I didn't feel vulnerable for the first time. I loved that feeling.

***

He even interacts with the audience and told about himself. He told us that he wasn't good at learning facts, so quizzes weren't his thing. He liked subjective things, movies, novels and wanted to become an actor.

An actor?

Can you believe?

I thought he'll tell me something like a doctor or scientist. But he wants to become an actor.

How amazing is that.

***

Next month, he stared in our school play.

I attended the recitation of the Twelfth Night. He was actually the main lead.

God! When he said, "If music be the food of love, play on," I declared myself to be his number one fan!

The way he said it. God! It was so... so... so... amazing!!!

I don't think he saw me but I was the first one who stood up as the curtains fell and clapped and cheered. For him.

I cheered?

Can you believe?

***

I was again standing outside 'The Inkers.' I peeked my head a little to find him but I couldn't find him today. I sighed and turned at my feet, only to collide with someone. My books fell on the floor. Before I could even utter an apology, the person crouched down to collect my books. My eyes met with those same pair of blue eyes. So clear. So shiny.

His smile reached his eyes seeing me while I suspected my heart-beat was non-existent right now. He quickly picked up my books and stood straight, pushing his curls out of his face.

"Hi! How are you doing?" He asked. His voice was so friendly and cheerful that it was almost like he was booming.

But 'how am I doing?' Isn't it something a person asks an acquaintance. Does he still remember me? Remember me as the dumb kid who copied his paper?

"Alexi said she saw you here often. I was actually going to ask you. Glad I met you here," He smiled even more.

"I... uh... yea-yeah." I stuttered the response.

Our confidence level was on the opposite ends of an irregularly weighted beam balance.

"Do you want to join the club?" He asked looking at the signboard and then back at me. The smile was still sticking to his lips.

Me? The club?

If it was the thirteen century then the club belonged to the nobility and I was a poor commoner.

"No." I chuckled trying to hide my embarrassment.

He looked confused. I tightened my fists and swallowed slowly before speaking— "I-I wanted some help in class. Thought if anyone could---"

He didn't let me finish and spoke instead.

"You should have told me early! Just three weeks to finals." He said as his expressions changed from cheerful to panicky in seconds.

How does he know I needed that sort of big help? Can't I ask just him a single question, why will three weeks' time be less?

But he let me copy his paper. The paper my peers claimed was too easy. Maybe he remembers how dumb I was.

His bottom lip quivered for a second then he spoke again, "Don't worry we'll manage. What subject you want help in?"

I gulped again and bit my lower lip.

He looked at me, curiously waiting for the answer.

"All," I said. I could hear my own voice sounding screechy. My gaze fell on my shoes.

I was so embarrassed. Maybe even ashamed. He didn't speak for a minute and then he sighed.

"No problem, we will get it done!" He stated confidently and patted my shoulder. My head shot up to look at his determined yet soft emotions. My heart felt like it was over-filling with warmth. I couldn't stop my lips to curl into a small smile.

"Thank you so much," I thanked him genuinely, he shrugged it off. I stretched my right hand for a handshake, "I am--"

"Tom. I know," He answered cutting me mid-sentence, "And I'm---"

"Harrison. I know," I said almost imitating his style.

He laughed shaking my hand. I laughed seeing him laughing. Maybe it was the heartiest laugh I have ever produced in years. I couldn't even stop smiling when the laughter subsided.

"When should we start?" He asked.

"As per your convenience."

"Let's first go for lunch. It's already lunchtime."

He wanted me to accompany him to the eating area. I nodded following him.

We sat on the bench and started eating our meals. He was eating as if he was hungry for a long time. And I was just somehow managing to push my food down my oesophagus with water.

"So, I'll collect all my notes today and we can meet tomorrow morning here for breakfast and then we'll plan your studies." He said, biting the carrot.

"Ah... Okay," I replied looking down at my plate. I still can't believe that he's talking to me and even going to help me with exams.

If it was a dream, I don't want it to end ever.

***

"Where's your breakfast tray?" He asked when we settled on the bench.

"I-I don't eat breakfast."

"What do you mean you don't eat breakfast? Why will you not eat breakfast?" He was surprised.

"I don't feel hungry in the morning," I said the truth.

"What?! We ate dinner at eight last night. It's already nine in the morning. You have to eat it. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!" He preached.

"I can't develop a habit of eating breakfast just like that," I defended, pressing my lips together.

"You should start with fruits. I have an apple in my backpack." He said taking out the said apple and handling me to eat.

I did eat it (half). And by the lunchtime I was hungry.

How weird is this human body? I never felt hungry when I used to skip breakfast and when I finally ate, I am already hungry.

After breakfast, attending our classes and having lunch, he took me to 'The Inkers.' He introduced me to the other club members as his 'friend'.

We sat on the corner and he took out his notes.

"So, for what purpose, are you going to study?" He asked. I was confused at first but then answered—

"To pass the exams," I said and surprisingly I didn't feel ashamed this time.

He divided the chapters in our books. He collected important terms and asked me to focus on only them rather than the complete syllabus. He made me flow charts and venn diagram. He explained me everything like a story. He never judged me when I couldn't answer or understand.

We continued to eat and study together daily. After the first week, we even started to hang out together. He made me hear his favourite songs. I loved his music choice. He taught me to maintain a balance on the skateboard. He told me about him, his family, his dog, his ambitions. He asked me to do the same, I shrugged it off saying, "Not much" or "Nothing exciting."

***

Harrison praised my answers. He said my writing style was very organic. I don't even know what it meant but he surely loved reading whatever I wrote. I showed him my middle-school poetry book and he made me read everything on it multiple times. I hope his interest was genuine.

He even asked me to call him 'Haz' instead of 'Harrison'.

He kept telling me things. I loved listening to him. I loved when he snaked his arm around my shoulder. I loved the way he said my name. I loved his face, his eyes, his voice, his confidence, his generosity, his patience, his intelligence, everything about him.

I may even be in love with him.

***

On Sundays, I used to go to the forgotten pet centre near our school. It was the only thing I liked about my life (except for Harrison, but it's just the latest addition). I love playing with those cute puppies. I never told anyone about it but I literally asked him if he wants to accompany me there.

You should have looked at his face! He was so excited, he hugged me so tight and couldn't stop giggling.

"You should have told me earlier, Holland! You have no idea how much I love dogs. I even have a super sweet dog back at home." He told me.

We played with the dogs and ate ice-cream. We laughed and talked so much. I don't even know why he's sticking with me, but he said he liked the way I talk and I should talk more often. He didn't stop there, he took me to a nearby fare. We enjoyed some rides and even got in for a fun photoshoot.

I cried that night. But those were tears of joy. I had a friend and he was fricking amazing.

***

Exams were over.

And I am sure I have done better than just passing. But I am sad. It's the end of the year, the Christmas break. He'll be gone to his home and I'll be all alone, again. Or worse— I will have to go to Chris's place for the holidays.

I sighed looking up at the blank night sky.

"Hey yo, mate. How were your exams?" Harrison asked, plopping down beside me, looking up at the sky.

"Your courtesy. Can't thank you enough." I said, looking at his face. He nodded still looking at the sky, giving me an opportunity to stare at his wonderful features. He did have some bad teen breakouts on his face. I do too. Yes, they weren't pretty. Acne isn't pretty but I don't think everything about a person needs to be pretty. People can be beautiful regardless of not being perfectly pretty.

And Harrison is beautiful.

My eyes landed on his slightly parted lips. I wondered how it would feel to kiss them. I licked my suddenly drying lips.

"You up for Christmas holidays?" He asked, turning his face to look at me. I averted my gaze to the ground beneath.

"I... I dunno," I replied, pulling my legs near to my chest.

There was a pause. It felt like he would say something but he didn't. I spoke instead.

"I don't want to go to uncle's," I told him the secret I never tell anyone. He looked at me confused.

"He... He is not a good man," I said as my throat felt choking and tears started to well up and suddenly I started feeling so dirty.

Harrison's expressions turned serious, he shifted a bit closer to me. He snaked his arm around my shoulders and dragged me closer to his body. He let me rest my head on his shoulder. That's when I realised that I was crying.

"Talk to me, Tom," Harrison insisted softly as his fingers combed through my hairs.

I started weeping harder, he pushed me closer and engulfed me into a real tight hug.

"You are safe here, Tom. You shouldn't be afraid. Tell me." He kept repeating while his hands caressed my back. I had grabbed his sweater in my fist and was badly sobbing into the material. I will surely ruin the delicate fabric.

He let me sob silently for a while. And when he realised that I had stopped crying, he pulled himself away, then he rested his fingers below my chin and lifted it to meet his gaze.

His eyes seemed glossier.

"Do you trust me?"

I nodded. He waited for me to tell the whole thing.

"He used to t-touch me in wrong ways when I was younger," I confessed, embarrassed. I wanted to look down, away from his gaze but my chin was still fixed on the spot by his fingers.

I first thought that he's also going to cry. But then I saw his pained, empathetic expressions changing into hard angry ones. And suddenly his face radiated so much anger that I had to move back. His hand fell on the grass as he clenched them into a fist. He stood up.

"You'll come with me. Start packing your bags. I'll tell my parents. You will never ever have to see that asshole's face again. That bloody bastard. Eww. Fucking disgusting! He'll regret what I'll do to him. How dare he?!!!!" Harrison growled angrily. "Pack your bags. Mum will take us to our home on Saturday." He ordered almost rushing away but I stood up and grabbed his arm.

"You can't tell your parents," I said, terrified.

"I fucking will! That bastard will be in jail!" He almost yelled.

"No. No. You can't." I begged him, tugging him towards me.

"Are you an idiot Tom? He raped you. Multiple times! You're not even an adult, yet!" He jerked his hand away from my grip.

"He hasn't done that for years---"

"That doesn't forgive or change anything!"

"It's-it's my life. You don't have to make decisions for me!" I yelled this time. He froze and blinked at me.

"What?" He said coming closer, his expressions suddenly softening.

I didn't reply.

"He is the reason why you are broken, Tom. I can see the damage. I don't understand why you don't see---"

"I know that I am damaged. But it won't fix anything," I said, tears spilling down my face.

He came closer and cupped my face in his hands. He softly wiped off my tears with his thumbs. He bent down a little to see directly into my eyes.

"Would you have let him go if I was at your place?" He asked, his voice soft yet demanding. My breath was stuck in my throat but he didn't let the question slip away.

"You are my best friend in the world Haz," I answered honestly.

"And you are more than that to me."

My heart crumbled like a piece of paper. None of us spoke for minutes, just stood there on the same spot, motionless. I swallowed slowly, taking in a breath.

"It's... It's just... High school crush."

I couldn't believe my own words but he rolled his head back and laughed.

I waited for him to stop laughing. He did, and his expressions again turned serious.

"Time will tell that. But the main thing is... No one deserves what you suffered. And he needs to be punished. That's justice. And to be honest, if you were even a complete stranger to me, I would have said the same thing."

Well... He has too many reasons to be my high school crush.

I nodded in understanding. I should stop saving that evil Chris. Harrison is right.

"So you are coming with us? You can forget that more than friends thing, we'll talk about it later or maybe never, as per your wish. And definitely sexual orientation." He said rubbing his neck.

I thought for a minute.

"But... I... I am a boy. It's very shameful to admit that I was raped---"

"If anyone should be ashamed, it's your ugly uncle. Being a boy or a girl won't change the crime. You shouldn't be ashamed." He stated and again pulled me into a hug.

"You should never be ashamed. Never." His voice cracked and I knew that he was the one crying now. I placed my hands on his torso and pulled myself off his chest.

I looked at his tear-stained face. I wanted to grab his face and plant kisses all across it. But all I felt were his hands again holding my face. He brought his face down and planted a kiss on my forehead, his lips lingered on the spot for a few seconds, whispering the word 'Never'. When he parted, I didn't even waste a single minute and grabbed his face.

I crashed my lips into his. His lips were sandwiched between mine. I slowly and gently sucked on them as his hands travelled to hold my waist. He let out a small moan and my heart fluttered like a butterfly. When I broke the kiss, his eyes were still closed and mouth half-open. His chest was rising and falling with every breath he inhaled and exhaled. It felt as if the kiss wasn't yet over for him.

I don't know why but I was also breathing heavily. His lips slowly curved into a small smile and his eyelids half-opened.

"You know you are my first kiss, Tom?" He said slowly as if he was satisfied.

"I wish I could say the same for you," I said but with a sad smile. His hand moved from my waist to my face. He slowly pushed away the fallen curls on my forehead.

"It doesn't matter." He leaned towards me, his breath lingering on my lips.

"It's the first time I am going to kiss someone. Please don't mind if it's not that good." He whispered. His words only made my heart go even more crazy.

He softly attached his lips to mine. I felt his throbbing heartbeat in his chest and his firm stature. I pulled his face closer to mine, he moaned again, his mouth slightly parted. I swiped my tongue over his bottom lip. He took in a sharp breath.

I loved how his body reacted to everything I did. I never felt this crazy in my life. So... so... so... crazy. Kissing Harrison Osterfield was crazy and him kissing me back was even crazier. Who knew he could get this nervous and cute?

When he finally broke the kiss, I couldn't stop but kiss his pink, flushed cheeks.

"I feel crazy." He said giggling.

"Same."

"You'll come with us?"

"No doubt on that."

I smiled and looked at the sky. It was still empty but my heart was full of warmth.

Was it how it feels to fall in love?

Crazy... Crazy... Crazy...

I love crazy...

*THE END*

______________________

A/N: Everyone- your likes, comments & reblogs mean a lot to me. Love you guys. I know this pairing isn't getting me much notes but still I wanted to write this and I genuinely enjoyed writing this. Thanks for everyone who supported me. It gave me strength to write what I desire. Thank you so much guys.

6 UNREAD MESSAGES FROM TOM. ~ 3 hours ago

Tom(8:45pm) >>I m here for an hour?

Tom(9:16pm) >>Where r u?

Tom(10:04pm) >>R u still going with the plan?

Tom(10:10pm) >>The food is cold as hell.

Tom(10:10pm) >>Although hell is all lava

Tom(10:12pm) >>But where r u?

How could I forget about the divs night out? We were both busy with our horribly busy shooting/press tour/photoshoot/meeting etc. schedules. But today was the day we had decided to finally spend a best friends night together, eat something good, visit a good bar et cetera et cetera.

But I was over-confident about my memory to remember dates. Haha.

I don't think it's smart to reply to those messages right now. Also, I am too tired and worn-out of thinking about any possible excuse. So, I simply drove to my house where we were supposed to meet.

Hope Tom won't be angry at me.

No.

Tom should be angry at me!

Because when he's not angry with me, he's sad. And definitely sad or upset is the last thing I want him to be, especially me being the reason.

Which friend would like to see his best friend sad, anyway?

I unlocked the door of my house and tip-toed to the living room. I still prayed that Tom would be busy watching YouTube or something and wouldn't realise the time. I am a hopelessly hopeful individual. Well, I didn't coin the word 'Hopelessly hopeful', Tom did. He called me that once, couldn't agree with him more though.

I saw him. But he wasn't watching TV or scrolling through his phone. He was fast asleep on the couch. I let out a breath of relief- At least I don't have to make excuses right now.

I freed myself off my coat and shoes and walked towards the couch where he was lying. My eyes landed on the table to the right. I noticed the take-out boxes stacked on the wood.

Shit.

Tom didn't even eat dinner. I can't even express how disgusted I am feeling about myself. Seriously?! I had grabbed a quick meal during the work hours but Tom... He was waiting to have dinner with me.

No matter how much I hate making excuses to him, I still can't let him sleep with an empty stomach. It's better Tom gets upset at me, I deserve that after all.

I walked closer to his sleeping figure. His legs were tangled in the little blanket and the cushions were lying to the floor. Yeah, Tom had a habit of kicking things in sleep. He had kicked me too.

One of Tom's hand was touching the carpet beneath while the other was tucked under his head. His mouth was slightly open and when I concentrated enough, I could hear his soft snores.

He groaned in his sleep and as a reflex action- I averted my gaze from him to the floor. But I noticed him wetting his lips with his tongue in the process.

His lips were badly dried and chapped. He should take more care of them. It's none of my business actually. If Amelia enjoys kissing them who am I to say?

I shook Tom by his shoulder.

"Mmm," He whimpered in his sleep, resisting my attempt to wake him up.

"Get up Tom!" I said calmly and tickled the spot where his jaw met his neck. His body shook in a silent giggle. That spot was his weakness, after all.

"Harrison?" He yawned and slowly opened his eyes.

"Yup. That's me. You haven't eaten," I replied when he tried to sit up.

When he sat up straight his curls fell on his forehead, exactly like a bungee jumping rope.

His curls were the weirdest dilemma of my life. I loved them, he looked great in them. But I also wanted to move my hand through them and get them out of his face.

I clenched my fist at the thought of playing with his hairs.

My whole body shuddered when he touched my chin out of nowhere.

"Did you fall?" He said as his fingers grazed through the little cut on my chin. He was sitting on folded knees on the sofa to reach my standing height.

Does he think the pain of him touching my wound made me shudder?

"Yeah, I fell," I said. I hoped he'll remove his hand from my face but rather he moved his thumb across my jawline. I clenched my fists tighter, my jaws clenched too.

He should stop doing this. He should stop touching me like this. It didn't feel... Who am I kidding? He should stop touching me like this because it felt good. Felt so damn fucking good!!!

Remove your fingers, Holland or I'll break your hand.

I looked at his face. His sleepy tired pretty evil face. And again I wanted to grab it and punch it. Or do something completely opposite and then die.

His eyes were concentrated on my skin while his fingers were still busy grazing my skin. When the torture was out of limit, I flipped his hand off me and took a step back.

"It's not a big deal. It's a very small cut. You don't have to give it so much attention."

I don't know but I suspect my voice was a bit harsh because his face fell at my words. I heard him sigh.

"Sorry."

The word came out of my mouth abruptly. Tom's face shoots up at my sudden apology.

"Uh. For what?" He tilted his head to look directly at me. Before his eyes could meet mine, I looked away. My reflexes are pretty damn good. They know he's dangerous.

"For spoiling our night out. For wasting your time." I stated as a matter of fact and stuffed my hands inside my pockets while swinging along with the balls of my feet.

"No worries. I am free tomorrow." Tom said.

"BUT I AM NOT FREE!"

I-- I yelled at him.

He froze at his spot. I closed my eyes momentarily in a hope that everything was a dream.

The yelling part was not for him. It was for me. I hated myself for missing this day! I wanted to spend time with him! And I don't know when I'll get it next. When he's free, I am busy. When he's busy, I am free. And then there are times when we both were busy and I just missed the day when we both were free. I wanted to throw my hands in the air. But what will it change?

I instead flopped to the sofa right next to him and hide my face in my hands.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to yell. It's my fault in every direction." I said rubbing my palms on my face.

"I can see you are very tired Harrison. I really don't mind. I also went through this phase and you were there for me so... Look I am right here." Tom snaked his arms around my shoulders taping slightly.

I nodded. Not the best response but now I don't have to worry because he thinks he understands my agony.

I convinced him to have dinner. I didn't tell him that I did eat something before and joined him regardlessly. And we talked, like friends. Like we always do. Nothing had changed from the outside.

* * *

I am unlucky enough to get a chance to see him on Harry and Sam's birthday. The twins couldn't find any other day to pop out on earth than the fucking Valentine's Day. I will see the same girls throwing themselves at me who never gave a fuck to me when I was fifteen. And then those questions. I was ready to face all those 'when are you going to show us your girlfriend?' or 'we know you aren't single.' or some more annoying cliché questions or blatant statements or the worst— straight off insults. I knew bullshit when I heard it and I knew how to deal with it.

But still, I don't understand this whole fuss about getting into a relationship. I don't like casual dating. I never tell people not to go on casual dates or to commit to a serious thoughtful relationship or to wait till they actually find an appropriate partner. So why are they telling me what and when I should do these things?

It's not like I am fifty or sitting on a wheelchair or the world is ending. I am not even twenty-five. I have time. I know how to use it more efficiently than getting into a stupid relationship that won't even last for a couple of months.

Nevertheless, the thing I wasn't ready to deal with was to see Tom, of course as I already established. He'll produce himself at the party any time soon with his hands draped around her shoulders. I forgot her name honestly. And I don't care about it.

Speaking of the devil, Thomas Stanley Holland walked right across the door and the first thing he did was wave at me. Like a child waving at an ice-cream truck. There was no Camelia--Amelia (I don't know) with him. He hopped across the hall and reached me. I just saw him doing things rather than giving any response.

"They saved the cake for me, right?" He said suppressing a laugh. Failing miserably though.

"Nah! I had your piece." I wobbled my eyebrows at him teasingly, lifting the mocktail to my lips. But he grabbed my drink and took a sip himself.

"It's not wine..." He said making a face of disgust. I snatched my drink back from his hand and took a huge sip. I basically gulped the liquid and tossed the glass to the side.

"I am trying to lower my alcohol consumption. You should too. And that drink was delicious!" I said wiping the wetness off my lips with the back of my hand.

"I try to but couldn't resist." He admitted. I could see his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

"It's difficult, I agree. I loved beer and considered it more important for my survival than water but then---"

Sam jumped in the conversation and I stopped mid-sentence.

"There are two players less in the beer pong. Maybe you guys could join. It's fun." Sam suggested and it seemed like the birthday boy wasn't in the mood of hearing a no. I can tell that he was already tipsy.

But... Beer pong, seriously?

Irony. My whole life is an irony.

"Uh. We are trying to keep a distance from alcohol."

That was Tom. My head flipped to look at him from Sam. His eyes met mine and I didn't turn my head away. He gave me a small smile. My mouth parted to say something but Sam spoke instead.

"If you divs change your mind, you are most welcome to join us." And then he walked past us. I watched his figure as he left while I all this time I could feel Tom's lingering gaze on my face.

"What? Why are you staring?" I asked looking at him, again.

He shifted his gaze to his shoes but the smile on his face was even bigger. It was almost as if he was blushing.

He didn't answer. So I asked another question, "Where's your girlfriend?"

He let out a chuckle and his head lifted.

"I broke up!" He said but with a smile as his shoes traced an invisible circle on the floor.

I am actually worried about him now. Has he gone mad in the sorrow of his break-up? Although I think they didn't even have any feelings for each other but were just together. Casual dating. But Tom never accepts the casual nature of his relationships till they are over.

But he also never giggles after a break-up.

"Are you okay?" I asked him.

"Yeah. Very okay." His smile was still big enough to make his eyes crinkle.

I rolled my head back to stretch my tired body. I realised how long I was standing here. I rested my hands on the empty counter, shutting my eyes to relax. I could feel the little vibrations that Tom's tapping fingers produced on the counter. I felt his hand coming closer to mine. And then his fingers touched my hand. And I jerked it away opening my eyes and looking at him.

He retracted his hand seeing my reaction and looked at his shoes again.

He wants to tell me something. I know him well. But what I also know is that he never hides stuff from me or gets nervous about telling me anything. We are best friends after all. But now? Why is he behaving like this?

My heart crumbled thinking of a thousand possibilities. Was our connection weakening? Was his trust on me shattering?

But why? What have I done wrong?

"You should go and join them. You love to play beer pong. No matter how much you suck in that," I suggested, hoping that his mood will change after some fun games and drinks.

"Can we talk in my room?" He asked completely ignoring my suggestion.

"I--uh. Sure." I shrugged looking at him. His expressions were difficult to read in these dim lights, maybe I could see him better in the proper lighting of his room.

He walked past the halls, greeting some people in the path while I followed him quietly. He closed the door of the room after we entered.

I sat on the corner of his bed waiting for him to join. And he joined and sat beside me keeping some distance.

"So... What were you saying?" I asked facing him.

"Nothing. Just... " He paused and didn't complete his sentence, instead took in a long breath and released it shortly.

"What? Is everything okay?" I was genuinely worried.

"Can I hold you, Haz?"

He wants to hug me and I want to laugh. Does he need permission to hug me, now? Maybe then he'll tell me that it was our last hug and that we are no more friends. It happens like this, isn't it?

Goodbye Harrison.

He'll definitely say that. I can sense.

I gulped my saliva and slid closer to him. I loosened my arms.

He didn't take long and wrapped his hands around my body. Tom had hugged me before, a lot of times (although not so often in the last three-four years) but never like this. Like the world was ending and we were drowning in the infinite ocean. His body was stiff at first and then it loosed as he relaxed. I realised that I did exactly the same. As our body relaxed, I tightened the embrace pulling him closer. One of his hand travelled from my back to my neck and he played with the small hairs on the nape of my neck. I felt my body shooting with electricity. I didn't fight with my instincts and surrendered.

I pushed him away.

He stared at me wide-eyed.

Who the fuck hugs like this?

He snapped his fingers in front of my face. And I realised that I was lost in my thoughts. But I don't even know what exactly I was thinking?

"What have I done wrong?" Tom asked me in the saddest voice I have ever heard.

I should be the one asking that question!

"Excuse me?" I said wanting him to elaborate.

"You are pushing me away. You are seriously pushing me away every fucking time!" His voice cracked as he spoke. His eyes were way too glossy. I am afraid if he tilts his head a little bit, tears will spill out of them.

And again my heart clenched painfully.

"Are you--are you crying?" My throat felt like as if it was choked of ashes.

He chuckled. But it was more like an irritating chuckle.

And the thing I was afraid of happened right then. Tears fell off his eyes and slid through his cheeks.

I am finally the reason for making him sad to a level that he's crying!

"Nothing matters anymore, Harrison. Nothing matters." He said, shaking his head and wiping off his tears although fresh tears replaced the old stains. He got up.

Was this his way of saying goodbye? That we are no more friends?

But I can't let him go like this. No. That's not me.

I grabbed his wrist before he could walk away and stood up myself. I felt much taller today. Maybe because his posture was sunken right now.

"When did I push you away?" I whispered the question.

"Every time, Harrison. I have already answered that."

"That's now how this works," I told him.

My voice was slow and soft while his voice was loud and cracked.

He jerked his hand away from my grip.

He jerked his hand from my grip like I do... Every time.

Oh.

"You... You? You ah..." I stumbled upon my words unable to complete my sentence. He spoke up instead.

"Yes. Yes, Harrison. I am in love with you."

No. That was not something I was saying. I wanted to ask him if he thought that I was trying to end our friendship(the way I thought)— You think I am trying to end our friendship.

I don't even know why I stumbled that much in saying this little statement.

But I wasn't expecting that response from him.

I stood there frozen. How'll I react to this?

I could see him moving closer to me and his hands were reaching for my face. His thumb touched my lower lips and he tucked it out of my teeth.

"I got my answer. I hope we'll still be friends." A sad smile adorned his face as he said that. I saw him move away from me this time. He unlocked the door, looked at me for a second then looked away and walked out of the room.

As the door clicked shut. I jolted and let my limp body fall on his bed.

What have I done?

***

He didn't text or call me that week.

I didn't either.

***

The next week I found myself mindlessly scrolling through hashtag #tomholland

I stopped at a particular picture. It was from high school. I don't even know how these fan-accounts get these pictures.

It was a picture of one of our school plays. We are standing there posing for the group photograph. Tom and I were standing in the middle, together.

It was the only play where Tom and I played the role of each other's love interest. We did some sad romance shit, some happy romance shit and kissed. Not a real kiss. It was a stage kiss, where one of the actors puts his or her thumb between their and the other actor's lips and then both the people kiss the thumb instead of each other's lips and the audience thinks that they are actually kissing each other.

And then for a complete one week, Tom called me 'bro' instead of my own fucking name!!

And then about two years ago after one of our acquaintances jokingly called us boyfriends, Tom literally inserted the same 'bro' in every fucking sentence, Instagram comment, DM, reply, text, phone call, everywhere he had to address me for at least three days.

I have always used the word 'bro' as an alternative for 'mate' or 'friend' but never to brother-zone anyone.

But he literally used it to brother-zone me, MULTIPLE TIMES!

And I...

I got the signal.

And now he's telling me that he's in love with me...

Funny.

Irony.

Satire?

***

Hell. Bloody hell.

1 UNREAD MESSAGE FROM TOM. ~ 1 min ago

It's been a month we haven't talked to each other at all and now suddenly I received a text from him. And that too at 01:05 am midnight.

My fingers danced inches away from the screen afraid to tap on the message and then regret it for life.

Another notification popped on my home screen.

Now it was—  2 UNREAD MESSAGES FROM TOM. ~ 1 sec ago

I clicked on it.

Tom(01:05 am) >>Hey

Tom(01:06 am) >>Are we on talking terms?

Me(01:10am) Hi.      << Yeah. <<

Tom is typing...

Tom(01:10am) >>Thank god. I was afraid.

Tom is typing...

Tom(01:10am) >>So whatcha doing?

Me(01:11am) Couldn't sleep. Just scrolling through my feed. <<

Tom(01:11am) >>Same!

Tom is typing...

Tom(01:12am) >>Thinking of meeting sometime? I will understand if u don't wanna meet but still?

Me(01:30am) Can we meet right now? <<

Tom is typing...

Tom is typing...

Tom is typing...

I tossed the phone to the side seeing the text 'Tom is typing' appearing and disappearing multiple times on the screen and closed my eyes. I heard my phone ting. I rolled over to look on the screen again.

Tom(01:41am) >>Will be at your place in 10

Me(01:42am) >>👍(thumbs up emoji)

Fuck!

I hid my face inside my duvet and waited for him.

What will he say? What will I say?

The doorbell rang. Was it already ten minutes?

I slowly removed the duvet off my body, took my time to get off the bed and walked lazily to the door and stood there, staring at the wood. The doorbell rang again.

It's just Tom. I reminded myself.

I sucked in a breath and opened the door. He was standing right there. Obviously.

He was wearing a brown t-shirt with some blue trousers and his hairs were perfectly set, unusual for midnight. I am sure that I looked like a mess.

"Can I get in?" He asked smiling politely.

"Yea-yeah" I stuttered giving him way to get in. He sat on my sofa where last time he was napping.

I didn't notice he had a bag in his hand till he kept it on the front table.

"Mum made some cookies. Thought you loved them." He said taking out a box and opening it. The sweet smell instantly reached my nose and I heard my stomach growl.

We chuckled, together. Then laughed, together. Then awkwardly stopped laughing. Together.

I sat beside him and fished out a cookie from the box.

"The-the choco-chip ones are made by me. I mean I helped mum," He said and I put my previous cookie down to look for the choco-chip ones in the box. The box had at least four different flavours of cookies mixed up.

I took out two choco-chip cookies and gave one to him. I took a bite.

I loved it.

We ate more till we were full, almost half-emptying the box.

Say something Harrison! I mentally scolded myself.

"So?"

"So?"

We said in unison.

"You say first," I said to him. We shifted to face each other.

"Missed you," Tom said pressing his lips into a thin line, while he fidgeted with his fingers.

I placed my hands on top of his hands, stopping his motions.

"Do you really like me that way?" I asked being serious.

"I really love you that way," His voice sounded confident.

"Why now? All of a sudden? Why not before?" I am sure that my voice was panicky.

"You were pushing me away, Harrison. It was hard for me. I tried to move on but... failed."

The world was spinning again.

"You asked if you could switch roles when we were assigned to be in that play as a couple. You denied its re-screening. You missed the practice sessions.

"I tried my best to make you comfortable. Even if it made me kill all my possibilities to be together with you. But I failed miserably. Just tell me no. Just say no. Tell me that you don't see me anything more than a friend and I promise I will move on.

"But you not saying anything and pushing me away isn't making me move on. Say something Haz. Just say no." He finished but his gaze was still fixed on my eyes. He wasn't giving me a chance to break the eye-contact, waiting for my answer.

But the thing matters the most is that he's right. And I am wrong.

I did push him away and then put all the blame of everything on him.

I...

I think I knew...

I know why I didn't believe in relationships because the thought of being with someone other than Tom was sickening. And I was afraid if Tom and I did somehow magically get into a relationship, what will happen after we break-up?

And the day I realised I liked him more than a friend, I started pushing him away. And he thought he was making me uncomfortable whenever he tried to come closer to me.

Wow.

Seems like I solved the theory of relativity.

But what happens now?

Is this the moment we kiss?

But what if it didn't work and we broke up?

His eyes were still on me. And they spoke for him. They answered my question.

He'll never leave me.

If he went through all my bullshit till now, he will still stick with me even if the new thing we are going to step into the next minute doesn't work. We were best friends first and nothing can ever break this bond.

I placed my hand behind his neck. He looked at me through his lashes. I could see the rise and fall in his chest and could hear my own heart thumping in my ears. I tiled his head to the side. I attached my lips to his.

I kissed him. And ruffled his curls.

I kissed him again. And he cupped my face in his hands, squeezing my cheeks and pulling my mouth even closer to his (if it was possible in anyway)..

I kissed him again and again and again and again.

And he kept kissing me back.