The Moth and the Flame -- TordEdd

1.

A painful, stagnant grief was the new normal now that Tord was gone.

Conversations between Tom, Edd, and Matt had turned simply polite for a while, such as simple, nonchalant requests for the weekly grocery lists or empty how are you?'s.There was no use for a genuine question like that; they all knew each other were doing pretty shit. Tord had shattered any sense of comfort they'd had.

The smoke from the rubble of their home still hung thick in their lungs, and the burning feeling had never truly gone away. Edd's knees were still bruised and sore from how hard he had hit the ground as he stared in disbelief at the absolute chaos and destruction Tord had left. His throat was still raw from screaming out for Tom when he had gotten injured, from begging and pleading for Tord to stop and give him an explanation. When he coughed up the smoke from his lungs, there always was a bit of blood in the tissue. The ringing in his ears seemed to be permanent, and if he listened too hard to it, he almost heard Tord's laughter.

Even though Tord had left, it was as if he was still there. The aftermath was disgustingly bitter.

They had to find a new place to live, eventually settling on a small flat a half hour from their old house, although not far enough away from the town. Each trip to the shops or to restaurants were filled with the painful memories of him.

Edd would see visions of Tord in the next aisle in the supermarket, or just walking down the street. He'd hear his voice calling out for him in the subway. Each and every time he'd turn around with hope, ready to welcome him back with open arms.

He was disappointed every time.

Edd couldn't help but blame himself. The guilt ate him alive.

He'd lay awake for hours each night sobbing, replaying everything in his mind until he eventually passed out from exhaustion. His sleep schedule became dangerously unhealthy, and he usually wouldn't come out of his room until at least 4pm every day.

Matt had busied himself with activities outside the house leaving Tom and Edd alone most days. He was grieving as well, but managed to keep himself afloat for the most part. He never talked about what had happened.

Tom kept to himself mostly as well, but took it upon himself to make sure Edd was alright. Tord was more than just a friend to Edd; he and Tord had been dating for about five years prior to Tord's betrayal. He knew Edd was going to be at his lowest.

"Edd?" Tom called, knocking on Edd's door. "C'mon out, I made lunch."

There was silence for a moment, then shuffling could be heard. The door unlocked, but Edd didn't open it. Tom did, pushing open the door and stepping into the room.

It was dark save for the lamp on Edd's desk. His room was a mess, clothes everywhere. His bed was unmade, also piled with clothes. Edd had retreated back to sit on the bed, staring at Tom with an expression of "Why the fuck did you wake me up just to stare at me?".

"You've got to clean this room, mate," Tom scoffed, almost tripping over a shirt on the floor, picking it up and tossing it into the laundry bin. "How long has it been like this?"

Edd shrugged. He seemed embarrassed by his room, but didn't make any effort to clean it now that Tom was here. "I'll clean it later."

Tom sighed, staring at Edd sadly. His friend looked exhausted. Eye bags were prominent even in the dim lighting. His hair was shaggy and grown out. He looked absolutely miserable... then again, how could he not? Tom crossed the room and sat on the bed next to Edd, pulling him into a tight hug.

Edd kind of fell into it, leaning his entire weight onto Tom. He allowed himself to breathe for a moment, but breathing gave way to thinking, and thinking gave way to sobbing, and sobbing gave way to a full breakdown. Tom held him as he wept bitterly, burying his face into Tom's hoodie.