A/N: I will give all of you lovelies the same song and dance I've given on the author's notes of all of my other fics: Long time no see, no? I apologize - May was just a really crappy month. But it's June now and I'm just praying this month will be better. Fingers crossed! So without further adieu...
"Tom, it hurts."
"You have to push through it. It will get better."
"I don't want to push through it! I actually think I might die…"
Dramatically, Sybil fell to the grass next to the path her and Tom ran on, her limbs flopping out to the sides of her as she tried to catch her breath. "Death is imminent, Tom."
He sat down next to her and let out a hearty laugh. "You're so dramatic."
"I'm not," she said innocently. She didn't dare move. To do so would be to negate the role she was playing, that of a girl who was terribly out of shape. "I think this is it for me," she said, her chest red and damp with perspiration, heaving from beneath her v-neck.
"I don't understand how this is so hard for you. You do pilates! And yoga!"
"Exactly," Sybil gave rather enthusiastically. It was this that propelled her upward into a sitting position, her knees bent so she could rest her arms atop them. "I'm very acquainted with the floor. Most of it is done on my back. I don't even walk this much getting to the class each morning…"
Tom laughed, this time shaking his head as he wiped a few beads of sweat off of his upper lip. "You're ridiculous."
Sybil smiled, taking his words as a compliment. "You are too!" she gave. "I don't know anyone that likes to run for fun. I mean, what an absolute waste of time. Do you understand how many episodes of Call The Midwife I could be watching?"
"Is that show any good?"
"I don't know!" Sybil stated in mirth. "I'm only on episode two of my binge. It was interrupted when you suggested we go for a run."
"How inconvenient for you," Tom remarked sarcastically. "Summer vacation must be really hard. You know, being seventeen and having all of this free time on your hands. I really hope you survive..."
Smirking, Sybil pushed at his shoulders. It was a sign that she was done being dramatic and a warning that he needed to stop teasing her, the latter of which she secretly hoped would always exist in their relationship.
Still smiling, Tom stood up and extended his hand to Sybil, offering her support so she could do the same thing. She readily took it, her body easily coming to stand, causing their faces to nearly collide. The action was stilled by Sybil's hands, both flat on his chest as she quickly stole a kiss.
Tom went to wrap an arm around her back and pull her in closer for another, but behind them, a man's voice called out.
"Tom Branson!"
The two immediately separated. Sybil self-consciously crossed her arms over her chest and looked to the ground while Tom's eyes searched for the owner of the voice. Coming toward them was three men, all of them seeming to be similar in age to Tom, but with bright, almost clueless looking smiles on their faces.
"What's up?" Tom let out casually. They all looked to Sybil, so Tom stepped forward. "Syb, these are some of the guys I did undergrad with...Mike, Chris, and Nick," he pointed.
The boys continued to smile, the fact being something Sybil found rather comical. Still with one hand on her hip, she stepped forward to offer the other. "Sybil," she said sweetly before shaking each boys hand.
"Girlfriend?" one of them asked casually.
Sybil looked to Tom, her eyebrows raised as she too waited for his answer. He turned back to his friends. "No…no," he said again, as if to convince himself or maybe even make a last minute decision. "Friends."
"Definitely friends," Sybil added, adding to her statement a look of disgust that each of the men seemed to be amused by.
"Well we're meeting up with a bunch of the guys from our firm to throw the ball around if you wanted to join us…"
Sybil looked to Tom and raised her hand to swat upward at the air as if allowing him to go. "Go," her words also encouraged. "I can enjoy a nice, leisurely walk," she balked loudly, "back home by myself."
"No way," Tom spat, immediately returning to their light argument from before. He turned back to his old friends and shook his head. "We've been out for awhile and I need a shower. But hey, if you guys are around, we should get together."
"Definitely," the boy named Nick declared.
"Hey man, you still working with Kolberg?" Mike asked.
"I am," Tom admitted with a smirk.
"God, what a prick…" Chris confirmed with a shake of his head. "I don't know how you do it…"
"It'll pay off," Tom stated confidently. Then: "It feckin' better," he mumbled, causing all of them to laugh.
With a slap to the back, the group dispersed, heading off toward a nearby open field where other boys waited, ready to start a game of rugby. "You ready?" Tom said after they left.
Sybil smirked. "Sure. But I was serious...I'm not running all the way home. I will literally die."
Tom dropped his head back and laughed. "Literally? You'll literally die?" Sybil's expression remained unchanged. "Your dad's right, you do use that incorrectly."
"Alright, dude, give it a break…" Sybil said as she began to walk off toward the path that lead them out of the park.
Quickly, Tom fell into stride next to her. "Wait, you're not really mad are you?"
"No!" Sybil let out with a laugh of her own.
"Is it because I said you were a friend? I mean—"
She stopped walking. "Tom, I'm not mad." Then her feet were moving again, causing him to once again catch up.
"What are we?"
Sybil stopped again and this time Tom had to take a step back to meet her. "You know, you never said you had friends," she stated, clearly having topics of her own she wanted to discuss.
Tom's brow furrowed. "I did actually. When we first met, remember? I asked for your name because—"
"Because you needed to tell your friends who stole your beer. I do remember. But it obviously wasn't that big of a deal because we went up to your room and—"
"Well I'm not a chick, Syb. I don't need to report to my friends that I'm taking a girl to my room–"
Her eyes narrowed. "Really? Did you really just say that?"
"Okay, well do you have friends?"
"Yeah," she said casually, still very much upset. "Doesn't everyone?"
"Well you've never talked about them, really…"
Sybil shrugged. "My best friend Gwen moved to Portsmouth when we were in year nine so—"
"My cousin Ciaran is my best friend. But I'm here all of the time and he's working in Dublin now, so—"
"That was stupid," Sybil admitted with a sigh. "I don't know why I got mad…"
Tom smirked. "S'okay," he accepted. "It's confusing to me, too, you know."
"What?" she asked, her eyes searching for his to possibly determine a better meaning.
"What we are."
"I just…" She stopped herself. "I just feel like I know everything about you and I like spending time with you and I don't need a label for it because it is what it is regardless of what we call it...but I…" Her voice trailed off as she moved her hair to her mouth — a sign that she was finding it hard to speak, Tom had learned. "I think I would have a hard time if you dated other people…"
"So we're dating?"
"I don't know!" Sybil shrugged. "Are we? I just mean—"
"Yeah, okay," Tom settled, cutting her off. "Me neither. No labels, but no other people."
Sybil nodded determinedly. "Good," she said. The two began to walk again. Still curious though, she looked to Tom. "But there...there haven't been other girls, right? I mean, I guess it's okay if there have because we didn't clear it up until now but—"
"No, Syb," Tom said simply. "No other girls."
"Okay." Several more nods as she did her best to seem more self-assured. "Okay, good."
The rest of the walk home was pretty silent, marked only by the way Tom idly reached out and tried to hold Sybil's hand. She accepted, finding the feeling of them, palm to palm, bold considering the busy street the two traveled on. This thought intensified when, just as the two were about to enter Tom's flat, the two shared a kiss, one any passerby could have seen. She pushed him away, thinking of this, but disclosing something else. "You're sticky, you creep!"
Like children, the two ran through the flat, meandering through long hallways all before climbing the stairs leading up to Tom's loft. The top landing found them once again pressed into the jamb of the door, Sybil's back meeting the harsh lines of the wooden frame as Tom's form settled into her, giving him more leverage to taste the lips she so willingly gave him.
Without him knowing, Sybil reached over, her hand idly playing with the brass doorknob. Just as they pulled away to breathe, she opened the door, allowing herself to escape his grasp, all of which was done with laughter and then more excitement as she saw how enticed he was by her action. Everything about them was so playful and light that one could forget that minutes ago the two were arguing.
Their lighthearted behavior transitioned quickly though, with the two very naturally falling back on Tom's bed, Tom in a sitting position and Sybil straddling him. Her hands were strong upon his neck, caressing the same skin previously made damp with sweat. In all honesty, they both could use a shower, but there was something so tangible about the way they connected, throwing clear disregard to such a fact, that neither seemed to mind, let alone acknowledge in their post-workout state.
As Sybil's mouth traveled down, her hands did too. Eventually, they settled on the waistband of Tom's boxers. Each index finger slipped below the elastic where Sybil ran the pads of her forefinger along the band, teasing Tom's sensitive skin. This was where the two stopped as a knock sounded at the door.
"Yeah?" Tom called out over his shoulder.
The door opened and Sybil immediately scattered, pulling down at where Tom's eager hands had pushed up at her shirt as she moved to stand. Everyone stood slack jawed, as Matthew, now standing in the open door frame took in Sybil and Tom's less than decent state.
"Fuck, Matthew, seriously?" Tom called as he too stood. "'Yeah' doesn't mean 'come in', got it?"
Matthew was still in shock but he nodded all the same. "Yeah, I got it. I'm sorry—" His feet were planted as his eyes took them both in. Tom's hair was an absolute mess Sybil could barely catch her breath.
"Get out!" Tom roared again. It seemed that their ability to be childish in one another's presence did not stop when interacting with others.
Matthew obliged. His face, however, remained stoic as he shut the door, leaving Sybil and Tom to share a worried glance. Instantly, Sybil stepped for the door.
"Syb, don't…"
She snapped her head back in Tom's direction. "I have to, Tom! He's going to say something to Mary!"
"And if he does?"
"Then this whole thing goes to shit. So please, let me handle this, okay?"
Tom sighed. It was clear to him that there was no use fighting Sybil. She was just as stubborn as he was and she'd act regardless of what he wished her to do. This was about them both, and it was their relationship on the line but as Sybil opened the door and headed back downstairs, Tom found his mind imagining what else it could be that set her off. When he reached the kitchen where both Sybil and Matthew now stood, he found his suspicions confirmed.
"Well are you going to tell her?" Sybil shrieked, demanding an answer. It must have been the second or third time she asked the question but Tom could only assume. "Matthew! Answer me!"
"I don't know, Sybil," he gave honestly. His tone was much different — lower and more soft, showing just how confused he was.
"You don't know? Well let me help you make that decision. Don't. Don't you dare tell her. This isn't any of your business—"
"It's Mary's business."
"No, it's really not! I don't care what you two do!" she gave as proof.
"Well, she'll—"
"No!" Sybil yelled. "No, Matthew, because you've been so spineless with her and I'll be damned if the time you pretend to care is when something that doesn't concern either of you, happens."
"She's going to be upset…" Matthew tried.
"Exactly! Why would you do that to her? Jesus!" Sybil let out. She ran a hand up to her forehead to push back her frizzing hair. "You are such an arsehole! I'm serious. How dare you! Out of all of the things you can be honest with her—"
"She worries about you—"
"And I worry about her! Because you're a dick! You take advantage of her! You can't tell her how you feel for god only knows what reason but you'll let her believe things will change. If you're not going to date her, then let her know, okay? She is a good person and she treats you well and she bends over backward to make sure you are comfortable and happy! When's the last time you've done anything for her? Besides," Sybil scoffed, "telling everyone about freshmen year—"
It was Matthew's turn to cut Sybil off. It seemed she hit a chord and as her words were so effortlessly delivered, Tom watched Matthew take the offensive. "I didn't—"
"Oh, horseshit!" Sybil let out. "She lost her virginity to you freshmen year and when you never called her back or even wanted to be friends, she started dating other people. Magically, this was when the rumors started!" Sybil admitted, her voice shaking showing just how incredulous she found all of this to be. "She may not want to believe it, but I've put the pieces together. She has the reputation that she has because you got your feelings hurt, which, really, must have been hard for you. You're such a little boy. You put your toy down in the sandbox and then got upset when someone else picked it up. How dare you!" she yelled again.
Hearing Sybil's voice tremble, Tom went to step for her. His initial reaction was to comfort her and once again tell her that all of this was not worth it, but the more he saw how visibly upset she was, the more he saw that for her it most likely was. These were words she wanted to share with Matthew for a long time.
"How did you...how did you know about that?"
"I'm not stupid! She cried for days after that. She wouldn't eat, she lost so much weight...and when she did what you boys normally do, suddenly she's a slut. She's loose and she's easy for taking control of her own life. Well guess what, Matthew? She can sleep with who she pleases! And I hope it's not you because I have never seen someone more careless with someone else's feelings. You'd be so lucky to have a girl like my sister…"
"I like Mary, Sybil. You're absolutely right. She's a good person and—"
"And if you're not going to ask her out then I don't want to hear it! Jesus Christ, be honest with yourself!"
"Me?" Matthew thundered. "What about you? She specifically told you not to date Tom and–"
"We're not dating!" Sybil bellowed. "Besides, if we were, then great! But either way we are friends and we are nice to one another and we consider how the other one is feeling when we speak and act! I know that must seem like a foreign concept to you but—"
"I consider her feelings, Sybil!" Matthew said, his voice sounding exhausted. "She's the one who keeps pushing and trying…"
"Well, can you blame her? She loves you, Matthew! She is completely in love with you! She thinks that will just make this all okay, but if you're not ever going to reciprocate that, then let this go. You need to be honest with her and explain to her what you do and do not want because I am sick of seeing my sister give herself to someone who can't even have the common courtesy to tell her that you're seeing other people!"
"Wha...what?" Matthew choked out. Again, Tom stepped forward. His body was drawn to her, this time wanting to reach for her elbow and pull her away from this mess.
"Does she know?" Sybil shrieked. "Tom said you had a girl over the other day. What's her name?"
"That's—"
Sybil lunged forward and pushed at Matthew's shoulders. "What is her name?" she demanded.
"Liv," he stated quietly. "Olivia," he corrected as he swallowed a bit of his pride. "She's in my—"
"I don't care!" Sybil screamed. Her tone and the way her hands shook had Tom finally stepping in. When his arms came into contact with her midsection, he was glad he did, as he felt her soften into him and begin to cry. With one last look to Matthew, Sybil practically spit out her thoughts. "Go fuck yourself, Matthew."
Tom's eyes widened, as if to make the picture in front of him sharper. He imagined, and saw in his mind, Sybil walking toward the door on the other side of the kitchen. Later, she'd text him and apologize for her swift exit and he'd assure her it was understandable before asking her how she was. Instead, all of this happened up in his room, the place Sybil thought it best to go after her very loud, very visible tift with her sister's relentless fling.
"I'm just going to get my things and go," she said, still out of breath as she hugged the sides of her zip-up closer to her body.
"Okay," Tom laughed out as he watched her move erratically around his room; a bird who wasn't quite used to being stuck in a cage.
"I'm sorry about that. I…" Her voice trailed away and her body finally stopped moving. "I've been a bit of a girl today, yeah?"
Tom rolled his lips and looked up as if to think. "Um, I don't think so?"
"Well I've...in the park, I very selfishly made you admit that there were no other girls and now I'm in your house yelling at your flatmate and—"
"I think the word you're looking for is immature…"
Sybil's breath hitched in her throat as she snapped her head up for her eyes to meet Tom's. "Is it?"
"Well I don't think so," Tom stated plainly. "But you seem to."
"Well?"
"So you yelled at Matthew...honestly, and excuse my immaturity," Tom stated with a hand to his chest, "it was feckin' hot. So, like, anytime you want that to happen again—"
In reprimand, Sybil pushed at Tom's shoulder. She wanted to pretend to be angry but she couldn't help the smile that covered her face and the way her cheeks, so high on her face, turned a roaring crimson.
"And just as a reminder, I started the conversation in the park. Not all guys are like Matthew. Some of us have feelings. I mean, hey, even Matthew has feelings he's just shit about revealing them."
"But see, you did it. Just like you all do it. You're laughing them off."
"I'm not laughing them off," Tom said, shaking his head. His shoulders were squared now and the voice he spoke with, stronger.
"Well that's what I mean then. Girls wear their hearts on their sleeves and boys are given the luxury to only share their feelings when it benefits them."
"Have you ever considered that we're all just scared?"
"And we're not?"
"Oh, no, you are. And that's visible. But you all push through it. Women are amazing like that. It is what it is and you all just accept it and in the end it's fine—"
"I think if men started admitting their feelings, more things would turn out in their favor then they think. Certainly more than what currently does…"
"Alright," Tom sighed.
"Alright?" Sybil asked, not sure what it was he was accepting.
He sighed again and took a step into her. "Sybil Crawley?"
She let out a small laugh. "Yes, Tom Branson?"
"I like you."
Sybil nodded; though her lips were sealed, the smile on her face grew. "I like you too, Tom."
"And I like how outspoken you are and how big your heart is and how you love your family and they love you. It's endearing. And I love spending time with you and you are probably the absolute biggest nerd I've ever met and your obsession with Doctor Who concerns me a bit…"
"Shut up," she laughed off with another jolt to his shoulder. He smiled too, but the room became serious again as she hugged her midsection after feeling how intensely he was still staring at her.
"But I think I'm falling in love with you?" he said, posing his statement as a question. This was for her benefit, as Tom did not doubt his statement in the slightest. "So if you're serious about not wanting to put labels on this, then that is fine and I get it, but if you don't think you can ever reciprocate those feelings then I need to know now because I really, really, like kissing you...amongst other things," he added for cheek, "but that should stop because I can't do that for much longer if all we're ever going to be is friends."
Sybil said nothing; she was speechless, and her lips, usually all too willing to give Tom anything he asked could not move from the weight of all the words on the tip of her tongue.
"And for the record," Tom began, "I'm terrified right now and I don't think that makes me girlish or immature. I think that just makes me human…"
"I don't want to—" Sybil stammered all too quickly. Again, she looked up, her eyes seemingly horrified at what they had done. She smiled and pushed herself to start again. "Am I allowed to feel those things and still not want to label it? I mean, we can't, Tom—"
"You can call it whatever you want. And I'll take your lead. But I mean it, Sybil...I'm falling in love with you. I've never felt this way before and I—"
She kissed him. In doing so, her body was pressed into him, with her hands clutching his neck as all of her weight rested into his chest and hips. She was on her toes, reaching up again, this time allowing a hand to scrape upward at Tom's scalp. The sensation had him adding pressure to the way he tasted her, all of their kisses jumping from fast to slow as the two saw fit.
When both were left breathless, they pulled away and Sybil's eyes opened slowly as a smile spread across her face. "I'd just like to say that I've never met anyone with a larger collection of books and documentaries and television programs on World War II, so yes, while I love my Doctor Who, you're also a nerd."
"Oh, I never said I wasn't," Tom admitted rather cockily.
"Alright," Sybil sighed. "Then I guess it's only fair, after you've been so honest with me, to tell you that I more than like you."
"You say it so casually," Tom jested. He laughed, but Sybil could sense how nervous he was.
"I'm scared to give it much more weight than that. I need to remind you that as much as I was a very proud person when we met, I have my days where I absolutely am not happy with who I am and it's hard for me to understand why you, a smart, good looking guy with goals and motivation, is hanging out with me. I mean, you're in uni. You've received two degrees already and you're moving on to get your second. I can barely decide what frozen yogurt flavor I want."
"Probably peanut butter," Tom said with a shrug.
Sybil smirked. "Probably," she conceded. "But I'm indecisive and my life isn't really certain right now. I have all of these decisions to make and I don't want you to have to go through that again. You're in the clear and your life is just starting and I'm not there yet. I have all of this other stuff to get through. I haven't even applied to uni!"
"I think you'll find that you're giving me probably a bit more credit than is due. And," he emphasized, "not giving yourself nearly enough. Even if we don't date, if we just hang out and occasionally get breakfast, I'm still going to help you with those things, just like you're going to remind me that I will eventually get this dissertation done. If you don't love me, then that is fine, but—"
"I don't want to just hang out or get breakfast," Sybil admitted. "And I never said I didn't love you. I do love you. I adore the man you are, Tom. That's easy for me to say. I want to tell everyone about you. I just worry you'll not want to tell everyone about me. Too many excuses will have to be made about how I'm more than my age and how I'm smart and I'll go to Oxford eventually or—"
"I'm not going to make excuses for you, Sybil. I don't think there's any to make. You're seventeen but yes, you're mature and brilliant...besides, everyone will be far too distracted by how god damn beautiful you are to even care that you're seventeen."
"I think that's just you."
"Then it's me!" Tom said proudly, with raised arms. "Great! Because I don't want to share you with anyone."
Sybil released the hold she had on her lip and slowly, she began to nod. "God, me neither…"
"Good," Tom threw out. "Then we're on the same page."
"We are."
"I really need a shower…" Tom let out. He did so believing the air was light enough for a switch in conversational topic. Sybil must have agreed because she let out a laugh.
"We both do. Though, I'll admit, you worked far harder than I did."
Tom raised an eyebrow. "How? I'd imagine there was some exertion or you wouldn't have felt like were going to die."
"Well you said it well," Sybil stated with a smirk. "Girls are good at revealing their feelings...so don't think we don't use that to our advantage when necessary."
"You weren't that exhausted?"
"Oh, I was absolutely exhausted! I could barely breathe! But I mean, I also just really wanted to sit down. And it got you to do that."
"You could have asked me to take a break. We could have sat down…"
"But things aren't as fun when you have to spell them out."
Tom chuckled. "Okay, Syb, whatever you say."
"So," she exhaled, "I'm going to go take a shower, and then when I get out, you can shower, and then we can order food and purchase our airfare…"
Tom made a face. "You seemed pretty blunt about that. That seemed pretty spelled out," he added.
"I know," Sybil nodded. "Like I said, I can turn it on and off."
"This isn't a game," Tom tried. Already though, Sybil had stepped into him, wrapping her arms around her shoulders so staring at him, taking in every freckle made apparent by summer and the way his eyes were so hooded by such a strong brow bone, was made easier. All of him was beautiful to her, perfect even, and she was genuine in what she said about not feeling good enough. She placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth before walking away toward the bathroom.
As the water fell over her shoulders and Sybil did her best to ensure no suds were left in her hair, she found her body stilling and her eyes glossing over as her mind raced as she thought about all that Tom had revealed. These were the same things she had been thinking for over a month now, thoughts that made her receive a less than average mark on one of her final exams and kept her awake at night, allowing for poor performance at the hospital the following day. She was consumed by it, their relationship, and as they had shared, it was terrifying to want something so foreign.
Her reminders of her own age were perhaps a warning to herself. She was seventeen and she didn't need someone so flawless to occupy her time when so much else in the world demanded her attention. She didn't need that, but she wanted it, and if Sybil was honest with herself, she was not falling in love with Tom. In fact, she had been in love with him for far longer than she'd ever admit.
x. Elle
