TordTom [Eddsworld] Oneshots

🧸Tomee Bear🧸

Some fluffy shit but still kinda sad at the beginning 👀💦

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No POV.

Tord whimpered, clutching the stuffed bear tighter against his torso. He shivered, head bolting up as sweat poured down his face. The back of his neck felt sticky, and he desperately wanted a shower; even if it was already 1:34 AM.

He wiped away his tears and laid his head back down on the pillow, head facing the plain white ceiling above him. Rain pittered on the roof of the house, the droplets hitting the tiles seeming thunderous in Tord's quiet room.

He flipped over onto his side, still cradling his precious teddy.

...Well, it wasn't his, per se. It belonged to his lover, Thomas.

He missed waking up every morning to see his gorgeous features, and gently trailing butterfly kisses down his neck and jawline until he woke up. He missed twirling around the kitchen with him while they made breakfast, and laughing at Edd's pissed face when he trudged down the stairs after they woke him by accident when singing Twenty One Piolets just for fun.

Tord hadn't even realized he was crying - loudly. Tord didn't even bother bottling it up anymore. His roommates wouldn't tell him off about it since they felt so bad about his situation, and knew he was going through mental torment day and night.

His poor British lover was hospitalized after an alleyway mugging when he and Matt went mirror shopping due to Tom losing a bet.

They were unpleasantly surprised to find that neither had brought their wallets with them, and had paid for the mirrors in exact cash. Matt managed to slip away long enough to call the police, but Tom was left behind to defend himself against an armed stranger.

Paramedics say that by the looks of it, he put up a pretty good fight. But he hadn't wielded any weapons, nor had anyone else been in that alleyway (besides Matt, who ran off) to help him, so when he was kicked to the concrete and stabbed in the abdomen, he practically had no hope.

The muggers were in a gang of three, one of which was knocked unconscious by Tom, the other caught and arrested, and the third being a victim to a vicious mauling after hopping someone's fence in desperation to hide when the sirens neared.

Poor Tom sat there for nearly ten minutes before the paramedics arrived, and by then, he was already close to death. It probably would've been better for him if the muggers finished him off quickly.

He'd been on life support for almost three weeks now, and though he was starting to show small signs of improvement, his health was still very tipsy. One wrong move and he could spiral back into the process of slowly dying.

What pained Tord most is how he was unable to see him. No, not because the hospital staff wouldn't let him, but because he couldn't stand to see his dearest in such a condition. He just couldn't stand it.

Nor could he stand the thought of Tom being sad every morning he wakes up, seeing just his friends, but never the one he loved. He must think that Tord hated him by now.

Sobs wracked the poor communist's body as he struggled to breathe, the thought of losing his lover being to much to handle. Ugly cries filled the household, and sorrowful wails were heard above the pounding of rain on roof tiles and crackling lightening.

Adam's apple bobbing as he tried to contain himself, he sat up and shakily wobbled twords the closet. He grasped Thomas's worn blue hoodie, and a box of old photographs from his childhood and throughout his teen years. Even if it made him even more upset, he wanted as much of Tom around him as he could.