hidden¹ ➩ t. holland

I'll Be Back

Y/n's pov

The next morning, I got to wake Tom up with a pillow to the face.

"Y/n," Tom groaned, "what was that for?"

"You wouldn't wake up," I said, trying to contain my laughter, as he got out of bed.

I had already tried waking him up by shaking him softly, telling him to wake up, ruffling his hair (because I thought that would work), turning the lights on.

Basically, anything that would not have to result in me to do anything that would "hurt" him.

I tried to wake him up for about ten minutes, ending up just going to get ready myself, hoping he would by some means wake up himself.

That didn't happen, so I hit him with a pillow, the only logical answer to my problem.

Tom stood up, yawning again. "Let's get ready then," Tom sighed, stretching.

"I'm already ready," I said, biting my lip to contain a laugh. "So, you need to get ready."

He kissed my cheek, "I'll be back."

*time skip brought to you by readers like you*

We were in Marseille, sitting on the shuttle that would take us to Notre-Dame de la Garde cathedral, which was one of the must-do things when you visit Marseille since you could see it from the main city, as it sat on top of a hill. Which also meant, we had to take a shuttle up to see the cathedral.

Tom was sitting next to me. We were talking about anything but what happened the night before, as it was an awkward topic to discuss, and the plan, of course, was a huge reason why we didn't say anything.

Along with the fact that I didn't want Dylan to find out about it.

Since he would always, every so often would text me asking if Tom and I had kissed yet, to which I always responded with no, since I didn't need him to tell my parents. So, Tom and I just agreed to not say anything to anyone, and never talk about it, except among the two of us.

So far, it was working out, I was just hoping it would keep working over the next few days, because after that, we could stop pretending. Which also meant, after Tom left, I didn't know when I was going to see him again.

That was all I could think about as we sat on the shuttle, I had fallen for a guy who lived on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, on a different continent. It was a long flight to get to England, a flight I wasn't sure I would be able to take often, as I was starting college in August, which was about two months away.

As shuttle ride felt like forever, as more and more people got on. I was just glad we were one of the first stops so we could get seats in the back where no one would stand and crowd us. But, at last, we finally got off, along with two dozen other people, and started making our way to the cathedral.

"Bet I can take more good looking photos than you," Dylan said, as we walked up the stairs.

"Really?" I asked, with a laugh. "You sure you want to do this? I do have more experience."

"Well you taught me," Dylan said, sticking his tongue out. "So eat that."

"Fine," I sighed, already annoyed by Dylan, "have fun losing though."

"You wish," Dylan said, walking off with my mom.

We walked around, I was taking in the scenery, taking photos as I did. I also wrote some writing inspirations for a future piece of writing, just to have it if I needed it for some reason.