Unexpected(CURRENTLY BEING REWRITTEN)

chapter thirty

Tom picked the now clean red sweatshirt, his facial expression dead. He tied it around his waist, leaving just his jeans and a gray shirt.

He shifted awkwardly when the new cloth touched parts of his skin, the tee shirt just a little too small, beaten down from how much it was worn.

He stumbled out of the room, feet clumsily dancing over themselves.

His next stop was Tord's bedroom.

The effort to make the small distance  was overly difficult. Every step was a struggle, the coldness under his feet and in the air making him shiver.

Tom leaned against the doorway, eyes scanning for a blanket. Sheets, bed cover, and... viola. He took more uncertain steps, leaning forward to grab it. Snatching it in his hands, he began to stagger away.

He wrapped the fluffy blanket around himself, curving into its warmth.

How long is Tord gonna be...? Oh, and Paul and Patryk, too.

With a loud sigh, he dropped into the livingroom couch. He grabbed the remote from the coffee counter. Flicking the television on for background noise, Tom nuzzled into the blankets, eyes fluttering shut.

"Hey, Tom- oh, you're asleep."

Drowsily, he opened his eyes. Everything was blurry as he blinked multiple times, eyes adjusting to the new light.

"Ah, I woke you up." Tom sat up, pulling the blanket with him. "You're not wearing my sweatshirt?"

"Shut your fuck," Tom slurred, still trying to wake up. He shook his head violently. When he stopped and looked behind him, he realized Paul, Patryk, and Tord were staring at him.

"...what?" Patryk whispered in confusion.

"Reference." Tom shrugged it off.

"How long have you been asleep?" Paul questioned, slinging something off his shoulder.

"Since... noon? I did all of the two things you asked me, Patryk," Tom joked, shifting his body so he was in his stomach.

"Noon?!" Patryk repeated, his voice loud. Tom jumped, startled.

"Wha...? What time is it?" he asked, laying his head on his arms.

"Fucking- it's ten!" Patryk reprimanded. "How could you have slept that long?"

Tom couldn't help but tense - he did have a habit of sleeping a lot after a breakdown. "Whoops," he replied dryly, "I'd like to get more sleep, but you'd have to shut up."

"Patryk. Tom." He let out a long sigh, flipping over on his side to stare at the television. He didn't like it when Tord scolded him. The lights suddenly shut off. "Move over, Jehovah."

"What?" Tom questioned, though he sat up anyways, curling his legs under him.

He jumped when Tord planted himself on the couch, the large man being accompanied by two more bodies landing on the couch next to Tom as he sat in the middle.

"What are ya watching?" Tord asked Tom, grabbing him to pull him closer.

"I don't know. I was asleep," he reminded Tord, snuggling further into his chest, letting his legs straighten. He moved his elbow so it wouldn't  be jabbing Tord in the stomach.

"Wow, Paul, they're acting cuter than us, even though they're not a couple," Patryk gasped jokingly, only to be rewarded with a kick from Tom.

"Be nice," Paul scolded, earning a huff of laughter from Tord. Tom scoffed before closing his eyes, placing a gentle hand on Tord's chest.