we're supposed to hate each other | technoblade

five

"this is the night when these woods sigh"

~

"these might leave scars, especially this one, it was brutal," you applied honey to the nearly healed wound on tommy's shoulder, careful to keep your touch light.

every night since you had gotten your brother back you worried about his injuries. you may have had extensive knowledge in medicine, but one can only acquire so much..

"eh, who cares that much, they're just scars."

"i suppose so," you draped a clean cloth over the wound, tying it taught.

"what's for breakfast? i'm hungry," he stood up from the edge of your bed, towering over you.

"i don't know, you tell me, you were the one who ate all of my potatoes."

"what do you mean? i did NOT!"

"really? then why is the potato barrel currently EMPTY."

he laughed, trying to hide his guilt.

"i, uh, not sure, i heard there's a potato thief 'round these parts."

you rolled your eyes, throwing a pillow at him.

"HEY!"

you turned your back (which was a mistake) and instantly felt the impact of another pillow.

"do you have a death wish?" you charged at him with the pillow he previously chucked at you.

he screamed, hiding behind your curtains.

"wait, no, i'm supposed to be a big man," he whispered to himself.

which you most certainly heard. if there was one thing tommy lacked, it was the ability to whisper.

and somehow, the ability to play fair in a pillow fight.

"WAIT WHAT"

he bolted out of the room quicker than you could react.

"TOMMY YOU LITTLE BITCH-"

with the pillow still tightly sealed in your grip, you sprinted after him. practically skipping every other step on the way down the ladder, you jumped down halfway in order to save time.

"out here, idiot," he waved to you from the other side of a window.

with no other way but the front door, you once again chased after him. his eyes widened, realizing you were on his tail once more.

"Y/N! Y/N! WE CAN WORK THIS OUT!" he shouted after coming to the conclusion that you had the advantage.

slowing your pace, you giggled to yourself at your sudden idea.

a brilliant one, might i add.

"a peace treaty, eh?"

"uh, sure, whatever that is," he backed into a composter, almost knocking it over.

"i promise to not attack you if you promise to harvest those potatoes," you gestured to the garden bed brimming with ripe potatoes.