i'm so sorry its taken me this long to update! i completely forgot! but anyway, heres the update, again, sorry for its lateness!
132 Harrys POV
Danny happily laid with Tom the whole time he slept, taking the opportunity to hold him close and stroke his hair, and his face, whispering how special he was. "your my baby Tommy, I love you so much, your so special. Your beautiful too, and cute, you look adorable right now." Danny whispered as I came back into the room, kissing Toms head for the thousandth time. He was right, Tom did look pretty cute, his long fringe falling over his eyes, being blown upwards whenever he breathed out. His tiny hand was fisted around Dannys shirt, head resting on the Boltoners chest.
"this feels so good, the best feeling ever, I might cry." Danny laughed a little, restraining himself from jogging the boy on his chest. "don't cry, that would wake him up." I teased, bringing Dougie down from the sofa again and onto my lap, so he was laying his head on my legs, his hair tangled with my fingers. We had all cheered up a bit since Tom had originally fallen asleep, mostly because he did look peaceful and happy for once.
Eventually, Tom did wake up, and the look in Dannys eyes could not have gotten more loving, clearly showing that he was turning into soppy 'I love Tom so much' mush inside. Tom woke up with a whimpering yawn, scrunching his face up as he stretched. "aw, waking up now are we?" Danny giggled, squeezing his long arms around Tom, keeping him on his chest, "you needed that didn't you? Feeling better now?" he carried on, pressing kisses on Toms head gently.
"yeah, thanks for that." Tom sighed, finally letting a proper smile take over his face. "no worries mate, now what do you say to finally finishing off some songs before Fletch actually kills us?" I suggested, pulling Dougie up, leading him upstairs, hearing reluctant footsteps behind us.
We all helped this time, finishing a song Danny had written years ago, from before he told Tom he had loved him for the first time. "I haven't really finished it yet, or shown it to anyone, ever actually. It sort of became a little silly after we got together." Danny explained, blushing a little when he showed us a song called 'I'd Lie'.
I don't think that passenger seat
Has ever looked this good to me
He tells me about his night
I count the colours in his eyes
He'll never fall in love
He swears, as he runs his fingers
through his hair
I'm laughing 'cause I hope he's wrong
And I don't think it ever crossed his mind
He tells a joke, I fake a smile
That I know all his favourite songs
And I could tell you
His favourite colour's green
He loves to argue
Born on the seventeenth
His sister's beautiful
He has his father's eyes
And if you ask me if I love him..
I'd lie
He looks around the room
Innocently overlooks the truth
Shouldn't a light go on
Doesn't he know that I've had him memorized for so long
He sees everything in black and white
Never let nobody see him cry
I don't let nobody see me
wishing he was mine
I could tell you
His favourite colour's green
He loves to argue
Born on the seventeenth
His sister's beautiful
He has his father's eyes
And if you ask me if I love him..
I'd lie
He stands there, then walks away
My God, if I could only say
I'm holding every breath for you
He'd never tell you,
but he can play guitar
I think he can see through
everything but my heart
First thought when I wake up
is "My God, he's beautiful"
So I put on my make-up
and pray for a miracle
Yes I could tell you
His favourite colour's green
He loves to argue
Oh, and it kills me
His sister's beautiful
He has his father's eyes
And if you ask me if I love him..
If you ask me if I love him..
I'd lie'
133 Toms POV
I blushed furiously when Danny started singing, giving me fake loving eyes, realising who he was singing about. He was singing about me. I have born on the 17th, favourite colour was green, I liked to argue, saw things in black and white, played guitar, had my dads eyes and never let anyone see me cry. And right now, I wanted to cry. That song was beautiful, and it was making me what to cry because Danny was perfect, and I couldn't take it. "its perfect." I managed to whisper, getting choked up. "like the guy its about then?" Danny smiled, kissing my hair, making me cringe.
I had always hated it when Danny said I was perfect, because I knew he was lying. Now I knew how much he was lying, and it killed me, tore me to shreds inside. "don't say that." I shook my head, I really was not perfect, and never would be. I didn't want to be lied to about it either. "why not?" Danny asked, stroking my side. I shifted from his hand. 'its a lie, your not perfect' a voice supplied inside my head, I agreed with it. "its a lie." I half repeated out loud, fiddling with my fingers nervously. "nah, its true. To me its 100% true." Danny smiled, but I could tell, in his eyes, he was lying. He didn't think I was perfect, he never would think I was perfect, to him I was just a person he lied to.
"I-I need the bathroom, give me a minute." I jumped up and practically ran downstairs, holding in tears until after I was locked inside the bathroom. Then I just slid down the door and cried, how did I think that things like this wouldn't happen? How did I possibly think I would not get comments about me like that, that we would just hug and occasionally kiss? It stung to hear comments like that, it hurt so much to hear Danny lie and say he thought I was perfect. I wasn't perfect, I couldn't be perfect, I was never perfect! All I had ever wanted was to be perfect, but I couldn't, not for Danny, I would never be perfect for him.
Looking in the mirror, all I saw was imperfections everywhere. I looked ill I was so pale, my chin was huge, the crater in my face known as a dimple looked ridiculous, my eyes were mud brown, making me look even more ill against my skin. My eyebrows were a completely different colour to my hair and were huge too, my hair looked awful even though I styled it this morning. I looked like an overgrown 13 year old, who still had baby fat in his cheeks, it was awful! All of this mixed with the tears running down my face made me want to rip myself to shreds, it was horrible how bad I looked, and as everyone knew, looks were everything in this business. Looks were more important than any type of talent, or personality, it was all a beauty contest, and with me here, we would fail. No-one would find my monstrous face appealing in anyway, no-one ever had, it had pushed everyone away from me.
My dad had run away because of me, which had caused my mum to hate both me and Carrie, although she did nothing wrong. Then my face had only gained me sympathy points with the rest of the world and my supposed best friends and boyfriend. They only stuck with me because they needed someone to write songs and someone to stand there and look disgusting so they looked amazing. It was the only reason why I was still here, so they were successful and felt good about themselves, they would never tell me that I was ugly but let the papers do that instead. All their words were echoing inside my head, 'the pale one, the fat one, the ugly one' it was all they ever called me, they never insulted the others, it was only ever me. It was a message to me that I was never worthy of any of this, I was worthy of nothing, and no-one, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.