It Couldn't Be... Love? | Tom Nook x Redd | Fanfiction |

Chapter 12 - Crazy Redd

I'm doing something I wasn't originally planning on doing and writing this chapter from Redd's POV. It will be interesting!

Tom was ripping out monster snores, but Redd barely heard them.

Redd writhed on the bed. His chest buckled and pinched together like clay that was forever being molded into constricted shapes. He groaned, but stifled it, not wanting to wake Tom, who had been so good to him the whole day.

What is wrong with me? He wondered fruitlessly, why do I feel weird around him? Does he feel the same thing?

Redd owed Tom his never-ending gratitude for saving him out in the storm, and he suspected Tom would finally, after the hurricane subsided, demand he pack his bags. He would be obliged to do so, of course, because Tom had saved him, and he owed him for it.

So why did he want so badly to stay?

No, I don't, I just feel grateful for what he's done for me, Redd felt his ears heat up.

All his life, he'd been the handsome one. He'd been slick, careful, sneaky. He'd been able to scam the most suspicious out of their money. He'd been able to worm his way out of grips of the police, who were always so sure they'd caught him. He was cool and collected - the trick to always staying that way, Redd had learned, was confidence. Confidence, just stay confident, throughout heated interrogations, accusations of fraud, do not let your cover slip. Be confident you'd get away, and you most certainly would.

But here, with Tom, it was different. He didn't remember much of what he'd been saying in the arms of the guy, but he knew it had to be embarrassing. The closer they'd gotten, the more he'd let his guard drop, though that may have been dangerous.

He could see, after their various "encounters," that Tom was always flustered, but he knew that however flustered Tom was could be multiplied tenfold to equal how flustered he himself was. He never let it show, of course, just all cool and calm, but really he was scared. What if Tom didn't like him back? How did Tom feel about him? Was what they'd just done too much? Was he too weird? What was wrong with him?

Redd sighed, holding a palm over his furnace-hot forehead. He lay flat, but really he was doing all he could not to scream. His chest was so sore, feeling like it had morphed into a massive bruise while he got the little sleep he could. Chills rocked through him, leaving him clutching the covers. But still, he willed himself not to make noise, Tom had been taking care of him all day, he was probably tired.

A faint chime sounded out in the darkness, and a dim white light illuminated the wall. He heard rustling as Tom's snores abruptly cut off, then someone sat up. He could see their silhouette in the gloom. Tom was busily tapping on his phone, curls drifting over his forehead. Redd covered his mouth, holding in a building cry of pain, but he still let a small gasp escape.

"Redd?"

Redd gagged on his words and shoved his face into the pillow, letting the scream go in short, panicked gasps.

"Redd?!"

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He was mortified, still keeping his face in the pillow.

"I really, really hope you didn't suffocate yourself there, because I would be accused of murder. There wouldn't be much evidence that I didn't do it." Tom joked.

Redd was still silent.

"Redd, what is it?"

"Nothing," He finally forced himself to mumble, but his voice cracked.

"Does your chest hurt?"

"No, you can go back to bed." Redd wanted to die right then and there. He had never been this sick, and it was making him a bad liar. He'd never been a bad liar! Tom could probably see right through him.