When You & I Collide

Tom pulled up to the apartment and put on the brakes. He stayed there for a while, staring straight forward, his hands gripping the steering wheel. He was quite pissed off actually. Evie had acted like such a bitch in the restaurant earlier for no reason. It wasn't like they were in a relationship or anything. Hell, how could he be in a relationship with that stubborn woman. No, he had to be professional about this, she only had a month left before Casey returned. He locked the car and headed up the steps to his door.

The first thing he heard on the way up was music blaring from the apartment. Apologise, by One Republic. His brows furrowed in confusion as he unlocked the door and walked in.
Evie was laid across the sofa, her eyes closed, her hair in dissaray. She was wearing sweat pants and a hoodie, The only way Tom could tell she was still conscious, was her death like grip on the half empty vodka bottle, which she would sip from occasionally. Tom walked over to the stereo and turned the music off, picking up 3 empty wine bottles and placing them on the kitchen side. He returned to the living room, and sat on the the coffee table, his hands pressed together, and leaned forward, looking at her. Silence passed for a while, until Evie opened her eyes as if noticing him for the first time. Her eyes were red rimmed, indicating she had been crying for some time. She closed them again and smiled.

'I'm a fuck up, you know that?' Evie scoffed to herself.
'No your not' Tom replied patiently, leaning back.
'Yes I am. I am officially ruined for men. I make shit decisions. Wrong decisions. From now on, you can make all my decisions for me' She pointed to him with her vodka free hand. Tom caught her hand, causing her to pull back hard. 'Get the fuck off me!' She jumped up with a start, but the hazyness in her head caused her to lose balance and stumble in to Tom's chest. She grabbed both ends of his leather jacket and burrowed her head in to the comfort of his warm chest, crying in gasps. She couldn't breath. Tom, stunned at first by their proximity, eventually wrapped her in his arms and motioned for her to 'Shhh' and he pulled her down to the sofa next to him, never losing their closeness. After some time, Evie's cries faded in to soft tears. Tom had made them both a coffee - more to sober her up, and returned to the sofa. He hadn't said a word since she started crying. Part of him was unsure what to say. He still wasn't sure what she crying for? Either this girl was seriously damaged, or she was just plain crazy. Neither options held very good prospects he thought. Eventually, sensing the awkwardness lingering, Evie told Tom all about Sam. About the last 6 years of her life. How she came to be in London. She kept it simple, avoiding telling him about today's meeting. She was embarrassed at her own naivety. Tom stayed silent the whole time, listening patiently, peering down at her with sad eyes. This poor girl had been through hell, he thought.

When she finished, she looked down at her hands, a single tear dropping from her cheek. 'And so there you have it, I'm a fuck up. What sort of person stays in a relationship like that?' She frowned. Tom, instinctively reached out his hand to cup her chin and pull her face up to look at him. 'Listen to me, there is nothing wrong with you. you stayed with him because you had hope. that's just who you are, you're an optimistic person...most of the time' Evie smirked at that last part, and lifted her hand to squeeze his in appreciation. 'Don't ever think you were to blame Evie. That guy just lost the best thing he'll ever have. Any guy would be lucky to have you. Look at you! your strong, smart, independent....' Without thinking, Tom leaned forward and softly brushed his plump lips against hers. Before Evie could truly register what was happening, a slow, ominous churning emanated from her stomach, causing her to push Tom out the way and run for the bathroom. With the effects of the alcohol still firmly in place, she tripped through the bathroom door, and barely made it in time before she threw up in the toilet bowl.

****

It had been an hour since Evie had been in the bathroom, and Tom was sat on the floor, leaning against the door. He hadn't heard Evie throw up in almost fifteen minutes, so he peered his head round the door to check on her. She fast asleep, her head resting on the toilet lid. Tom smiled o himself and stood up. He gently lifted her, trying not to wake her and slowly carried her to her room. After he had put her under the throw, he sat there looking at her for a while. He had made an impulsive move tonight. For the second time, he reminded himself. He would have to take the consequences in the morning. If she even remembered. He brushed her face with his hand and made his way out of her room, closing the door behind him.