Tokio Hotel oneshot- featuring Tom and Shay! yayz!!! enjoy!
writer: Shay (of course :D )
Tom stared at Shay from across the club, where she was flirting with some random guy. He glared at the guy, though he didn't know why. Shay could flirt with whomever she wanted, it wasn't his problem! He didn't even like her! In fact, he loathed her. He hated her, and everything about her. He watched as she left the guy and walked over to him, plopping herself down beside him. His breath caught in his throat, and he hated himself for it.
"Having fun?" She asked, her eyes shining with excitement. Her strawberry blonde hair fell gracefully over her ear. She had it parted to the side, her bangs covering half of her face. He had a crazy, sudden urge to tuck it behind her ear and kiss her. He shot the feeling down quickly and practically jumped out of his seat. Her voice made his stomach flutter, which only angered him. How could she have so much control over him?
"Why do you care?!" He yelled at her. She looked at him hurt.
"I was just asking! What's wrong with you?" she asked, accusation and hurt in her eyes.
"I just-I-I- Ugh! I hate the way you talk to me! And the way you cut your hair!" And with that, he stormed out of the club, leaving a bewildered Shay alone at the counter.
"Come on, lemme drive, please???" Shay begged, her big blue eyes wide and hopeful. Tom tried to resist, and failed.
"Fine…" he said. Shay squealed, took the keys from him, and was in the car with the engine started before he could even blink. He got in the seat next to her, and she took off at full speed, her hair streaming behind her. Tom gripped the seat in terror while she laughed maniacally at the speed. "SHAY! Slow down!" He yelled.
She began to slow, still giggling, and Tom calmed down some. "Hey, while we are out, do you mind stopping to pick up my girlfriend?" He asked her. Shay immediately stopped laughing and drove in silence to Chelsea's house. When they had picked up a squealing Chelsea and gotten back on the road, Tom glanced over at Shay from behind Chelsea's face, which blocked most of his view. She was staring at him in the rear-view mirror, her eyes blank and void of all expression.
Later, as they got out of the car, Shay handed him back his keys and backed away, all her previous exuberance gone. "I'll leave you two alone then," she said quietly. She sounded so sad, and guilt pricked at Tom's conscience. She could always make him feel guilty, and he hadn't even done anything!
"Shay" he called after her as she turned to the house, ready to say some deep, meaningful sentence to make her smile. She turned around again, and his confidence failed him. So instead, he blurted, "I hate the way you drive my car, and I hate the way you stare!" He cursed the putrid filth that spouted from his lips as he saw tears spring to her eyes, and she dashed inside the house. He pounded his fist into the car, ashamed. He hadn't meant to say that. He hadn't meant to hurt her.
"How do I look?" Shay asked breathlessly, excitement simply oozing from her pores. She was leaving in a few minutes for a date with a boy she had met at the club, and she wanted Tom's opinion on her outfit. He took it all, the stunning red dress with the corset top that complimented her hair, her powdery pink eyeshadow, sparkly mascara, and rosy cheeks. He looked down at her feet and laughed in his mind, though his face remained relatively stoic. Her feet were clad in her customary, ever-faithful, ever-present black combat boots with the buckles. He wet his lips to speak.
"You look-" he began.
"Amazing! Yes I know!" She interrupted, laughing, and just then the doorbell rang.
"I was going to say stupid," he blurted out, but instantly regretted the words as her face fell.
As her date led her out the door, he shouted after her "I hate your big dumb combat boots!" She turned her face towards him and gave him one last, small parting smile, her eyes full of understanding, as she got into the car with her date. He stood staring after the retreating car. The door slowly creaked shut, shutting out his view.
"-and the way you read my mind." He finished, whispering.
Amazing- she had taken the words right out of his mouth.
Tom sat on the couch with Chelsea. Shay and her new boyfriend Dylan sat next to them, giving each other loving looks. Tom's stomach curled each time Shay smiled at him. As Dylan fed Shay popcorn, Tom felt as if he were going to puke. A poem floated to his mind as he stared at Shay, momentarily forgetting Chelsea.
'Roses are red, violets are blue, sugar is sweet, and so are you! But the roses are wilted, the violets are dead, the sugar bowl is empty, and my wrists are stained red.'
All of a sudden, everyone looked at him. His face turned red as he realized he had spoken aloud on accident. Chelsea stood up, slapped him, and cried, "It's over!" She stormed out the door. He stood up as well, angry with himself.
He shouted at Shay, "See what I mean?! I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme!" He ran angrily out of the room.
Tom was laying on his back on his bed, staring moodily up at the ceiling. Chelsea had officially dumped him, all because of that stupid poem he said. He hadn't even meant it! He didn't have any feelings for Shay, none other than hatred.
This he assured himself, until Shay walked into the room, and his thoughts were immediately scattered as he looked at her face. He glared at her for a second, then groaned and rolled over, burying his face into the pillow so as to not have to look upon her face, lest he become lost in her blue eyes.
"Tom?" Shay asked tentatively, resting a hand on his shoulder. He groaned and jerked away from her touch. She sighed and folded her hands in her lap. "Tom, I know things didn't end well with Chelsea, but you know, there will be other girls. And truth be told, she wasn't really your type."
Tom grumbled. Shay had a point there. Chelsea was a squealing, popular, short-skirt wearing cheerleader with dyed blonde hair and too much make-up. He couldn't count the times his eardrums felt like they were going to bust from hearing her voice hit all new, high-pitched octaves. Tom rolled over again to face her. Shay smiled, smelling success in the air.
"So what if Chelsea wasn't the right one? It's not the end of the world. Someday, you're going to find the perfect girl who will always love you, forever and ever. You'll know exactly when it happens! And you know something else? She's going to feel exactly the same way about you!"
Tom's mouth slowly changed from a grimace to a hint of a smile, and Shay beamed, victorious in lifting his mood. She got up from the bed and walked out the door, her natural strawberry-blonde hair bobbing up and down as she walked.
Tom hollered after her retreating form, "I hate it that you're always right!" And he heard laughter coming from her in the next room. He smiled, but then it started to fade out as he thought upon her last words.
"And I hate it when you lie…"
Tom walked into the house and heard sobbing coming from Shay's room. He opened up the door and saw Shay on the floor by her bed, crying into her hands and clutching the phone. He heard Dylan's voice from the other end of the line, so he quietly opened the door and sat down across from her.
He heard Dylan say, "Shay, I'm sorry, but this is how it has to be. I'm just not that into you anymore. I'm into bigger and better relationships, you're just not ready for my level yet."
Anger surged through Tom, but before he could react, Shay jerked the phone to her ear and yelled through her tears, "Your level! You sick bastard, you mean bam, slam, thank you ma'am?! Whatever, we are so through. I don't talk to shit like you anyway!" And she jabbed her finger into the "end call" button, silencing Dylan's protests. Shay looked up at Tom to find his eyes twinkling, and his teeth holding his lip back from a smile.
"Bam, slam, thank you ma'am?" he asked, trying his absolute best not to laugh and failing miserably.
Shay laughed a watery laugh, tears still falling down her eyes. Tom, seeing that she was hurt and not being able to stand seeing her fragile heart breaking in the blue of her eyes, pulled her into a hug, stroking her back. She sobbed into his shirt, and the sound nearly killed him. He felt the sting of hot tears prick at the corners of his own eyes, and blinked them back before she should notice.
He held her tightly, her body feeling so right in his arms, and whispered into her ear, "I hate the way you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry." And somehow, he knew she understood.
Tom paced restlessly back and forth across the room, growing ever more jumpy and anxious by the second. Shay had been gone now for two hours, exactly thirty-five minutes longer than she said she would be. She hadn't been picking up the phone, despite the fact that Tom had called her seven times now. Good Lord, why did the girl have to disappear like this?!
Finally, blissfully, the door opened, and in walked Shay. Tom was immediately at her side, nearly running her over in his haste.
"Where have you been?!" he cried, relief that she was back turning his tone a tad bit sharper than he had aimed for.
"Goodness, Tom, chill out! I was at the studio, like I said I would be, but I stopped on the way home to pick up some coffee," she said, holding up the half-empty cup. It was a wonder she didn't spill it, considering the fact that she was a major klutz and Tom had just about tackled her.
"But why didn't you pick up your phone when I called?" Tom asked.
"Um…Tom? My phone was off." She said, a hint of a laugh in the set of her mouth.
"Oh…" Tom said slowly. Without warning, he pulled her into a quick, tight hug. "Please don't scare me like that, Shay!"
When he released her, she staggered back, giggling. "What was that for?" she asked.
"Because," Tom said, "I hate it that you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call."
Tom took a deep breath and looked at the girl in front of him. He was so nervous, though he'd practiced his speech many times in front of a mirror. Still, he feared her rejection.
"Shay, there is something I need to tell you. I should have told you a long time ago." He said slowly. She looked at him expectantly, if a bit confused.
"Shay- I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car, I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme. I hate the way your always right, I hate it when you lie. I hate the way you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry. I hate it that your not around, and the fact that you didn't call. But mostly, I hate the way I DON'T HATE YOU. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all… in fact, I think- I think I love you."
Shay's eyes began to water, and she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.
"Tom, I don't hate you, too!"
And with that, they both laughed, and kissed each other. As Tom held Shay tenderly in his arms, he knew in his heart they would be together, forever, through thick and thin. Because you know something? I hate you is three words, but so is I love you.