Narration
Tom was walking down his quiet road. His hood was up and he was walking fast. Desperately trying to keep his eyes off of the wreckage up the hill. But despite his efforts he glanced. He may not have been able to see much but from what he could, it was bad.
Tom's legs had moved with out him even thinking about it. He was walking towards the wreck. He had no feelings except determination. He needed to see it for himself. He didn't know why he just did. Was Tord still alive up there? No police had been up there yet nor any authority's of any sort for that matter.
So as Tom snooped around the place he was no less surprised to see it was just as bad as he thought. Maybe even worse than that. He was actually so surprised how no police had scoped out the area.
Tom grazed his fingers over a large hunk of metal circling around it until he came to an end. The air had become less pleasant, and more pungent with the smell of vomit. Tom looked down and gagged.
Tord lie on the jagged ground covered in vomit and other seemingly disgusting fluids. His hoodie had been taken off and he looked sick- and not just in the head.
Tom couldn't leave him like this. He really couldn't because even though he hated, no, despised Tord. It's not like Tom was satan, he wasn't going to leave somebody in this pitiful of a state.
So with that thought Tom sighed and picked tord up still grossed out because of the thick smell of vomit.
Then carried him home.
YOU ARE READING
Melting the Ice
RomanceHe couldn't have known it would turn out like this, and he couldn't have changed what happened next. Warnings- Language, Dark themes and violence. Oh and Male - Male relationships. Authors note: This is in fact tomtord, but just hear me out and le...
