Cat Eyes || Tomtord

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"No, cat, you can't have any! Eat your own food!" Tord shouted as Tom tried to snatch a piece of spaghetti.

You try that disgusting ass cat food, Tom spat in his head.

"You don't know you hate it unless you try it, now try it!" Tord picked up Tom and sat him in front of his bowl.

"I'll let you lick my fucking plate if you eat your own food now," Tord said harshly. Tom understood, swallowed his pride, and dove into the cat-chow. Let's just say it didn't taste as good as spaghetti would.

When Tom finished he hopped back up onto the table and meowed. "You're a real smartass, you know that?" Tord said.

Tom swiped a small piece of spaghetti off of Tord's plate and walked to the edge of the table where Tord couldn't reach to eat it there. Tord mumbled curses in Norwegian. He stood, "There you go, you fucking fatass," Tord scoffed, leaving the plate of little piece of spaghetti and sauce there.

Don't mind if I do, Tom thought, flicking his tail and licking the leftovers. Tord had gone back to his room, closing the door as to make sure his cat didn't attack him in his sleep. Tom, after finishing, took after his enemy, and curled up on the couch.

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Tom awoke to a hand gliding over his back. He opened his eyes to see Tord sitting with him on the couch.

"Morning, cat," he said. Tom grumbled but didn't move because of the soothingness of Tord's pet and the fact that he's tired.

The doorbell chimes and Tord stood to get it. He greeted whoever was at the door in Norwegian. Tord invited the man in.

"Speak English here, Pau. The cat understands English," Tord said.

"I didn't know you got a cat," said Pau. Tom looked over to get a better look at the guy. He had eyebrows for days and wore a red turtleneck sweater.

"He's a stress cat. At least he's supposed to be," Tord replied.

"Why not a dog? They're supposed to be actually used for stress relief."

"Dogs require work. I'd have to walk it and stuff. Cats are more independent."

"He seems smart," Pau said, putting out his hand to pet Tom. Tom got up and padded to the end of the couch, not accepting a pat from a stranger.

"A smartass, more like it," Tord spat.

"You planning anything big soon? Or is it just a lay low thing until that robot incident the cools down even more than it already has?"

Robot incident? Lay low? Big plans? What is he talking about? Did the "robot incident" mean when Tord blew up the house?

As Tom tried to comprehend the situation, they continued talking, giving him even more to think about.

"That's one of the things that stresses me out. I don't want to mess it up and get arrested but I also don't want this low time to be for nothing. I thought skipping town would lead them away but..." Tord trailed off. "Stress cat, come do your job!"

Tord sat down, grabbed Tom and sat him in his lap. Tord ran his cold, metal hand down Tom's back. Can he even feel my fur? Tom thought, His arms are made of metal.

As if he was a mind reader, Pau said, "I still can't understand how you feel with those robot arms."

"I told you already."

"I'm not a techie."

"Tsk. You're not going to understand it even if I tell you a thousand time, Pau."

"Whatever. I didn't come over for chitchat anyways. I came to actually discuss what you're going to do with the army. Lay low or attack? Go raid places to get more supplies?"

Army? Tord has a fucking army? Tom felt like fleeing but stayed only to hear this juicy information.

"Where do you think we should attack next?"

"I don't know, man. You're the leader. And you've seemed to recover from the explosion. You're physically ready."

"Give me a day. I'll have decided by then."

"That's what you said weeks ago but okay. You have a cat now, maybe somehow that'll help," Pau said sarcastically. He stormed out of the room, clearly annoyed.

Tord groaned, "I don't want to be a leader anymore."

That was strange. Tom thought Tord would love the power it brought him. He thought he'd rejoice in killing things and reaping havoc. Was this part of the stress?

Tom relaxed and pushed his head into Tord's chin. He wasn't that much of an asshole that he didn't care about Tord. I mean- he doesn't care about Tord. He just doesn't want Tord to be too upset.

Tord mumbles and hugs Tom, rubbing his back. A rumble emits from his throat and he realizes he's purring. He tried to quiet it but can't seem to.

A noise startled Tom. Tord had started sobbing. Tom felt tears land on his head. He huffed yet allowed Tord to cuddle with him. Who knew Tord could have a soft side?