fools x tony stonem [completed]

twenty two

Tony was, unsurprisingly, exceptionally smart, which is why I took him up on his offer when he volunteered to help me with my maths work. It was useless though, as I was shit with numbers, and by the time we were halfway through with the work, he held my pencil in his hand with my paper in his lap, solving the rest of the math problems as I sat beside him, watching him out of the corner of my eye.

He tapped the end of the pencil softly against his chin, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth, and his forehead wrinkled as he stared down at the paper. I thought it was quite cute how determined he was to finish my work for me, even though I told him loads of time that he didn't have to do it. The look of concentration on his face quickly turned to a look of realization, as he solved the equation and scribbled it down on the paper,

"Done," he tells me after a little while, before tossing the materials down the end of the bed. "Piece of cake."

"Thanks," I tell him with a smile. "I was just gonna turn in an empty sheet of paper, but this is a lot better."

He looks at me with a cheeky grin.

"However will you repay me?"

I'm quick to shove him away, laughing, as he moves in closer to me with his lips puckered.

"It's gonna take more than doing my homework to get into my pants, Stonem," I say.

He scoffs at my comment.

"Is that all you think of me as?" He questions. "Some horny, sex driven boy?"

"Ding ding ding," I chime in. "That would be correct."

He rolled his eyes at me, before his phone dinged on the bedside table. He reached over, grabbing it, and quickly looking over the screen.

"Do you have a phone charger I can use?" He asks me.

I nod towards the crack between my wall and bed, where my phone charger was plugged into the wall. The chord must have fallen down the crack though, so he reaches his arm looking for it. He grabs something, and I assume it's the phone chord, but when he brings it up for both of us to see, my face drops.

Restoration Clinic
McGuinness, Freya I
DOB. 6/23/1991   16
VST DATE. 1/13/2007
DR. Stock

That what the wristband read, the one I had to wear during my stay in the hospital. When I got released from the clinic, the first thing I did when I got home was run to my room, cut the band off with craft scissors, and throw it away... or so I thought I threw it away. But it must have fallen into the crack between my bed and wall, and now it was in Tony Stonems hand.

I try to pull it from his grasp, but he's stronger than me, pulling it back towards his face as his eyes read the band over and over again. I give up trying to hide it, as he already knew, so I let my back fall against the headboard of my bed, and let my face fall into my hands in shame. I didn't want him to look at me, but I could feel his stare like lasers on the top of my head.

"Freya... Why were you in the hospital?" He asks the question that I always dread.

"I don't wanna talk about it," I mutter through my hands.

"Why not?"

"Because I'll cry... I don't want you to see me cry."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, then I hear the sounds of ripping paper. He sets something on my lap, I and peak out of my hands to see paper and a pencil sitting on my lap. I look up at him through my eyelashes.

"Then write about it," he says, leaning back on his elbows, waiting. "That way, you won't have to talk about it."

I shake my head, nudging the things he'd given me off my lap and they fall to the mattress.