Get Well Cards (Tomtord) (Left for dead au)

Chapter 4; You're so difficult!

    The next few weeks in Tom's apartment had been anything but peaceful. The Brit himself was under constant fire as Edd would randomly pop in and out, checking in on his dear friend. Tom usually wouldn't mind, but with Tord currently housing with him, the situation was... intense, to say the least.
    Luckily, Edd had yet to discover that his backstabbing friend lived next door,  leaving him utterly oblivious.
    To accompany Edd's random visits, Tord was still in need of dressing changes on his wounds. Tom, who of course has a weak stomach but also felt terrible about what he'd done said, 'Sure, why not. I hate seeing bloody things but it'll be okay... hopefully.' So with that, Tom started taking up the task to change the blood stained bandages of Tord's lost arm. His eye only needing the patch which was given by the doctor.
    As anyone would guess, the process wasn't in any way painless, or a breeze. Especially today...
    "Would you stop moving? I can't wrap it up if you keep leaning away." Tom bickered. His stomach already churning for the day after doing this for the past ten minutes. "My arm is gone Tom, it doesn't exactly feel like I'm being tickled." He retorted, currently shirtless and sitting on Tom's bed.
    Tom was in his sleepwear, casually wearing his stay safe shirt with some blue plaid pants. He struggled to get Tord's cooperation as he shifted in a rolly chair next to the bed.
    "Well sorry, but your bandages have to be changed. Look, I'm almost done just sit still." Tord squirmed for a minute longer before giving in, the process wasn't going to get any easier after all.
Just as Tom's breakfast decided it wanted to come back up, they finished. "There, see that wasn't so bad was it?" Tord only grunted unhappily in response. "If it bugs you that much you can take some painkillers y'know." He trailed on. "Not sure how your pain is today." Tord reached for his black hoodie... remembering all it had been through. Remembering the days where he was still loved by Edd and Matt, and on occasion Tom.
"So... you just going to remain shirtless for the rest of the day, or what?" Tord snapped from his daydream and handed the Brit his jacket with reluctance. Unable to dress himself quite yet.
    The cloth came over his head and down his shoulders like a comforting hug. Embracing him in warm memories and comfort. Having just been in the dryer.
    The right sleeve hung off his shoulder like a lifeless sheet, leaving a piece of his mind wondering what went so wrong. As the hoodie reached the hem of his pants he fell forward into Tom's chest, not really knowing what he was doing. Tom jumped a small bit before grasping the shorter man by his hips. "Tord?" His voice came like a child who'd had a nightmare, asking his parents if he could sleep with them.
The mindless Norwegian just laid his face in the crook of Tom's neck, just wanting pure comfort. Nothing more, nothing less. He craved it suddenly like an animal near starvation. He grabbed at his shirt in silence. As he thought about wanting it all back, everything, every little bit of the bittersweet adventures he'd have with Edd and the others.
Deprivation of comfort felt so terrible, so cold. He hadn't felt anything in years, putting the army before himself and his desires.
"Tord." He said again, not in question however. In a sympathetic yet knowing tone. His warm hands shifted in various turns, holding him as a lover would.
But Tom felt nothing of the sort. Sure, he felt utterly terrible for what he'd done and felt a growing friendship. But he didn't love Tord. He just wanted to make sure he was okay- safe rather.
Tord on the other hand, felt something blossoming besides a friendship, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. But he pushed it away for now. He just curled up in Tom's arms, nearly falling asleep.
    Although after a certain point Tom shifted, "I've got to get up, you mind?" Tord felt rather at loss after hearing this, but didn't say anything. "Oh... yeah. Uh- sorry." Tom just told him it was no big deal. Excusing the awkwardness in Tord's voice.
    As Tom walked out, the Norwegian sat in his chair, cold again. The brit's voice swam through the hall back to his room. "I've got to go meet Edd and Matt for lunch, I'll be back in a bit. Want anything?" Tord said nothing for a moment. "I- No I'm okay. Thanks."
    With that, he heard the jingling of some keys and the door open and shut. And just like that, he was gone.
    Tord staggered to the living room and plumped down on the couch, watching tv without the slightest of interest. The colors flared against his eye and the voices and staged laughter were like white noise in his ears. He couldn't find the humor in the show. His mind was to busy... thinking about Tom. Something just seemed so different about him now... he just... gah, why did he have to be so difficult?!

    Tom sat with Edd and Matt at a rather small restaurant. Despite the size, the food never failed to impress. They'd already ordered their food so now they sat in enthusiastic conversation. "But I told her I wasn't interested, and she still came back! What a ladies man I am.." Matt chuckled to himself, smirking. "Sounds great Matt." Edd sighed after hearing a long winded story on a random girl who was in love with the ginger.
"Oh! That reminds me, I've got a date this weekend!" Edd said, seemingly forgetting the occasion to the back of his mind.
Tom felt a change in his mood as he went on... "It's with this girl I met at an art museum. She seems wonderful and I can't wait to get to know her." He smiled to himself. The green hoodies radiance not able to compare to his joy. Tom on the other hand, felt his joy decrease. Decreasing to the point where he almost ditched lunch with a total bullshit excuse. But, he sat there, smiling with Edd. Congratulating him on such an achievement.
    "Gee Edd, sounds great..." the brunette was too caught up in happiness to catch the disappointment in Tom's voice. Even though his ego was now soaked to the core with dread. Matt also was to distracted to notice, part of Tom was glad. Soon enough their food arrived and the three happily ate... well, two of them at least. The outside stealing let Tom breathe in the chilling November air, watching the leaves on all the trees turn shades of rustic reds and oranges. It was quite beautiful. The sky was blue with few clouds and birds chirped in their roosting trees, giving the brit a sense of hope. For what, he couldn't tell. But the chilly November weather sure did make him feel better.
    Edd and Matt talked while Tom just observed, bringing a porcelain mug to his lips, only to be greeted with hot tea. It rolled down his throat like honey, despite drinking it plain, and soothed his tense mind.
    The evening went on a while longer before Tom decided it was best to go back home. The three split the check after Tom nearly threw Edd's wallet in attempt to pay himself.
   
    The trio arrived back to the complex soon enough and Tom was quick to get to his room. "Well Tom, it was nice seeing you. Feel free to stop by later, I rented a new movie!" Tom accepted his offer, even though he knew damn well he wasn't going to show up.
    Tord watched Tom walk in, a surprised look on his face. The brit's aura went from passive and friendly to hell raiser in seconds. He closed the door and walked off to his room, slamming the door shut.
    "Woah.." Tord unconsciously said. Minutes went by in silence and then- a melody. Strings being played in a violent melancholy, deep and powerful. It made the walls crack with resonance and the setting became a passionate concert of confusion. Tord couldn't help but get up and lean against the wall next to Tom's door. He was definitely playing Susan, his beloved bass guitar.
    He could feel that something was wrong... what happened during lunch?
    He reached for the knob with hesitance, and once he gripped it, the sound stopped. The strings came to a searing halt, a screech of deprivation sounded from the amplifier. And then...
   
    A sob... soft and almost undefinable, like it was being muffled or held back. Tord's hand shook on the knob slightly, in confusion.
    A more audible cry now came from the room. He was holding back. And as if on cue, the bass sang again, a more calm tune but very... unsettled.
    Tord released the handle, and stepped back. A little startled. 'What now?' He thought.