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almighty-letu · 6 years ago

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My little test subject: Chapter 13

Chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9, chapter 10, chapter 11, and chapter 12

Angsty Tomtord fic with slight Paultryk on the side.

Warning! This fic contains: Foul language, scenes of torture, use of medical tools, drug use, self-harm, suicidal tendencies, violence, self-neglect, blood, and a little bit of stockholm syndrome and force feeding. Viewer discretion is advised.

Matt narrowed his eyes as he glanced out the window. The days are getting shorter. He observed, taking note of the sun’s position in the sky. And the nights are getting colder. Soon winter will be here. It was hard to believe that it’s been exactly eight months since Tom’s untimely demise. He never would’ve thought he and Edd would be able to cope with the pain they had felt back then; but they are moving on. Slowly, but surely.

“Matt? You alright in there?”

The sound of Edd’s voice coming from his living room snapped Matt out of his thoughts. He opened the microwave and pulled the freshly-made bag of popcorn out. “Coming!” Reaching toward the cupboard, Matt poured the salty treat goodness into a bowl. Before leaving, he stopped by the fridge and grabbed a can of coke. He bought a boxful the day before and left it in his freezer just on the occasion Edd would come over to his place. This will surely keep Edd in a cheerful mood.

“Have you picked a movie yet?” Matt asks, stepping out of his kitchen and into the living room. When he didn’t get an immediate response, his gaze landed on his friend; who is currently sitting on the magenta couch with his legs crossed. He’d invited the brunet over to his apartment in hopes of rekindling their shaken friendship with a casual movie night. Edd was fumbling around with his phone, staring at the screen intently and a little coy smile on his face.

“Edd?”

The brunet looked up startled, almost as if Matt had caught him doing something wrong. “Wha- what?”

Matt jumped back started, careful not to let any of the bowl’s contents spill over. “Whoa easy there!” He laughed, albeit a little uneasily. “I asked if you picked out a film?”

Blinking rapidly, Edd shook his head. “No- sorry. You were taking some time, and I guess I got distracted.” He rubbed the back of his head apologetically. Matt didn’t miss the way the brunet’s eyes flicked briefly to his phone screen.

“It’s fine.” Matt shrugged it off. “What you doing anyway? Are you talking to someone?” He tried to peer closer to get a good look at the phone, but Edd swiveled out of his range of sight.

“It’s nothing.” Edd replied briskly. He must’ve realized how odd his reaction was, and immediately relaxed and added with a sigh. “It’s just some prompt requests and offers. Nothing tremendously exciting.”

“Oh right, yeah…” Matt chuckled half-heartedly, trying to lighten up the mood again. He sat down next to Edd on the couch, setting the bowl of popcorn between them. “How’s the- how is the art coming along?”

Breathing an exasperated sigh, Edd stuffed his phone away and leaned back on the sofa. “Not very good.” He admitted. “I haven’t been able to draw anything worthwhile for some time now. I just can’t find any motivation to do so.”

Matt patted him on the back and offered his friend the coke. “Ah cheer up! Maybe all you need is something to relax over and refresh your head.” He reassured. “A good movie afternoon with some snacks will surely do the trick!”

Edd regarded his words and smiled. “Guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am!” Matt laughed. “Just you wait, you’ll be back to drawing in no time.” He clasped his hands and rubbed them together eagerly. “Now; what are we waiting for? Let’s get this show on the road!”

He handed Edd the remote control for the TV. They started flicking through the various movies available, searching for something they’ll both enjoy.

“We’ve watched plenty of horror films in the past. How about an animated one for a change?”

“Sounds good to me!” Matt agreed enthusiastically, grabbing a handful of popcorn and stuffing it all into his mouth.

They navigated through the large selection of movies displayed on-screen, occasionally expressing their thoughts to each other whenever they pause by a possible choice before moving on with their search. Being a lover of all things animated, Edd isn’t picky when it comes to animation. He has some preferences, sure; but he isn’t about to turn up his nose if a particular style doesn’t appeal to him. He likes cheap, crappy horror movies for Christ sakes, his taste isn’t exactly refined!

After nearly half an hour of browsing and discussion, they eventually settled with a stop-motion flick. It was on Edd’s watch list since it first came out, though he never got around on actually watching it, and Matt was a sucker for the awkward movement and, in the ginger’s opinion, “cutesy” animation. So they shrugged their shoulders, decided “why not?” and selected it for their afternoon movie section.

Edd pressed play, sat back, and took a sip of his cola as the logos came on screen.

After what he’s been through lately, watching a film with Matt of all things really never crossed his mind. Probably because it seemed so mundane and… out of the norm from how he usually spent his days. Moping around, and doing nothing particularly exciting with his time until night fall. Mostly because all his attempts of performing tasks that usually brought some sort of emotion out of him, whether it be a positive or negative one, was replaced with empty numbness despite Edd’s best efforts to cope.

They duo sat there, watching the movie play out in silence, save for the occasional comment here and there and the sound of munching popcorn.

About twenty minutes into the film, when the main character was attempting to converse with their dead relative for guidance before being chased down by evil ninja-witches, and Edd’s attention was fixated on the screen with interest; loud noises could be heard coming from right outside of the apartment. Although obnoxious and kind of distracting, Edd didn’t pay them much mind.

Just lousy neighbors. He figured dismissively, eating more popcorn. They’ll leave soon enough.

However, the sounds hadn’t eased- quite the opposite happened, in fact. The noises coming from the hallway outside only grew louder in frequency, followed by voices that weren’t even trying to keep their tone down.

Edd shifted in his seat with clear discomfort. He debated with himself whether he should go out there and outright tell them to be quiet, or try his best to ignore and pay attention to the film. He shot a questioning glance at Matt, wondering what he preferred but the ginger didn’t turn to look at him as he raised the volume of the TV to its highest setting.

Upon closer look, Matt seems uncharacteristically stiff and rigid for some reason.

Edd brushed his doubts away, and turned his attention back to the screen. He tried his best to focus on the movie but every time he felt even slightly immersed in the story and characters, his mind would drift away back to the noises. A familiar tingle of dread made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, but Edd couldn’t tell why. Something in particular about the voices outside set this feeling off in him, however he could not put a finger on it for the life of him.

The loud bumps and knocks that accompanied them didn’t help matters.

Growing increasingly restless, and unable to keep his curiosity down and neither the alarm bells ringing in his head; the brunet finally conceded.

“The hell do you think the neighbors are up to out there?” Edd prompted with feign nonchalantness as he took a sip of his beverage.

“Meh, who knows?” Matt shrugged indifferently while grabbing a chunk of popcorn. “Probably nothing exciting.”

Edd wasn’t satisfied with that answer. He couldn’t help the lingering suspicion that Matt might be hiding something from him, and it might be connected to the neighbors out there in the hall.

A tremor coming from his pocket jolted him out of his thoughts. Taking the phone out, Edd read the message.

(RF): So can you make it tonight?

He went to unlock the phone in order to reply when his eyes briefly flickered over the date displayed above the message:

Friday, 6th of July.

There was nothing particularly out of the ordinary for this date. However, something seemed to finally click into place in his head. The loud noises outside. The neighbors who wouldn’t stop talking. Matt’s stiff posture. It all made sense now.

It’s moving day! Edd deduced with a start. The people making so much noise are our new neighbors; and they are moving in to the apartment next door. Tom’s apartment. His posture deflated with a pang of sadness when he realized what it meant, but quickly brushed it off. He shouldn’t feel sad- he already knew this was happening one way or another, and leaving the apartment vacant to gather dust won’t change the fact that Tom is dead. It’s best to put it to good use for someone who actually needs a place to live.

Even if it meant-

Edd grimaced at the following thought.

Even if that the person leaving in the mornings to check the mail wasn’t his grumpy, eyeless friend; Edd knew this was the best course of action to take.

He breathed out a heavy sigh. Taking a second glance toward his orange-haired friend with this new information in mind, it’s no wonder Matt looks so stiff and uncomfortable. He thinks I’ll get upset if I figure out what’s really going on out there. Edd resisted the impulse to bristle at the insinuation that he may be too emotionally weak to think rationally. He couldn’t hold this against Matt. Tom was still kind of a sore topic to touch upon whenever he was mentioned between them, and Matt was just doing what he thought was best in his own anxious way. Edd can’t really fault him for that.

A loud bump disrupted his thoughts. Edd shifted his focus to the noises coming from the hallway, trying to hear what they were saying. Funny enough, the voices stirred an itch of familiarity within him; though he couldn’t quite place it. He’s definitely sure he heard these voices before… but where?

Edd shook his head. He wasn’t getting anywhere with this, and he is fairly sure he lost some pivotal plot points from the movie. “Alright, that’s it.” He jumped to his feet.

Matt looked up at him, startled. “Where you’re going?” He asks worriedly through a mouthful of popcorn.

“I’m going to tell our neighbors to pipe down. They are making too much noise, and I can barely hear what’s going on in the film.” The brunet crossed the short distance between the couch and the door.

“Wait, Edd! It’s fine- really!” Matt cried out, scrambling from his seat to try and reach out for him. “I- I don’t wan- I don’t really mind the noise all that much. I can try to-”

“Matt!” Edd abruptly cut him off, an edge of impatience in his voice.

The ginger instantly clamped his mouth shut, and fixed his worried blue gaze on his friend. Realizing he sounded harsher than he’d intended, Edd shot him an apologetic glance over his shoulder; his posture sagging as he released a tired sigh.

“It’s fine, Matt.” He tried again, this time with a much softer tone. “I mean it, really. I know what’s going on and you don’t need to hide it from me anymore. It’s okay!” Matt ducked his head down in shame, his gaze downcast. When he lifted his eyes again, Edd was surprised to see sorrow and guilt brimming in his friend’s stare. It honestly unnerved him in a way. What’s the big deal?

Figuring Matt was just upset he got caught trying to keep things from him; Edd shrugged it off as him simply being overly emotional.

“I know things haven’t been exactly the same between us since… you know. But you don’t have to keep every little thing that has to do with Tom a secret from me.” Edd continued uneasily. “I know you mean well, but I am not unstable. We’ve discussed about renting out Tom’s apartment, and I might’ve been upset at first, but we both agreed it was the best course of action to take.” He grabbed the door handle as he spoke.

Matt’s eyes widened. “Wait, Edd-!”

“Calm down, it’s fine.” The brunet opened the door just a crack. “I’m just going to tell the neighbors to quiet down a little, nothing worth so much drama. Maybe greet them into the complex while I’m at it.”

“That’s not what I-”

“I won’t lash out at them over this. You worry too much, I’m telling you it’s fine!” Edd insisted. He opened the door before Matt could make another protest, and he peered out into the hall.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I know you guys are new but could you please keep the noise down a bit? We’re trying to watch a movie and-”

He froze. His words instantly dying out on his tongue when he saw two men he had never thought he’d see again standing before him; their belongings scattered around the hall whilst in the process of moving to their new apartment.

One of them was leaning back on the door frame of an apartment on the opposite side, sipping on a can of coke- diet coke, Edd noted with vivid disgust; while the other man was half-way through removing their belongings from a crate. They don’t appear to have changed much since the last time they’ve seen each other.

Edd stared at them in disbelief. After all the crazy adventures he’d gone through, he had thought nothing else could shock him, but for a heartbeat he forgot how to breathe.

Staring curiously back at him, both looking perplexed and mildly confused, were none other than Eduardo and Mark.

“Eduardo?”

“Loser-? I mean- Edd?!” Eduardo blinked at him in disbelief. “You live here?”

“Uhhh, yeah?” Edd answered, highly uncomfortable with the situation that he’s gotten himself into. Edd isn’t exactly sure what their current stances are now. Are they still rivals? Are they… cool now? It’s hard to tell after a whole year of not seeing each other. Doesn’t help that the last time they crossed paths ended up being a terrible tragedy for both groups. “What- what are you doing here?”

“What’s it look like?” Mark retorted, dusting his hands as he settled the crater down. “We’re moving in, of course.”

Edd’s blood ran cold, and he gulped apprehensively. What did he expect? There is literally no other reason why they would be here now, today of all days, with their stuff all over the place. After a second to recompose himself he prompted. “You- you two are sharing the flat together?”

“What? No. There isn’t enough space for the two of us in one apartment.” Mark clarified, surprising Edd with his assertiveness.

In the past, Eduardo had always been the more vocal one of the group. But now the dark haired brunet was just standing in silence with his favorite beverage in hand, his face giving nothing away.

“Eduardo’s taking the vacant apartment adjacent to yours, while I’ll be living in the one across from his. Simple as that.”

Though he’d already guessed, hearing his suspicions being confirmed out loud only made his blood run cold with dread; chilling him to the core. Out of everyone in this town looking for a place to live, Edd internally winced. Why did it have to be Eduardo of all people to move in Tom’s apartment?

Sensing anguish welling up fast inside his chest, Edd decided it was best to end this interaction immediately. It’s bad enough running into them when he wasn’t even sure what their relationship is; he doesn’t need the humiliation of showing vulnerability in front of them on top of that.

“That’s, uh, great I guess.” He choked out stiffly; attempting to clear his throat to mask the uneasiness that he felt. “I’ll be heading back inside now. Sorry for interrupting.”

He was half-way behind the door when Eduardo called to him.

“Wait, Edd.”

Edd stopped, but didn’t step out again. Instead he merely peeked from the remaining gap of the door, his heart growing colder by the second. He could hardly stand to look at the other man. He’s always so cocky and arrogant and pleased with himself. . . . He recalled with nagging frustration.

Then Edd realized that he seemed different now from how he had been before the incident. He hasn’t made a single snarky remark to me… yet.

“We heard what happened to your friend.” Eduardo murmured, seeming uncertain of his own actions. It was weird to see the usually brash and arrogant man be so hesitant and act sympathetic. But he held a look of genuine sadness in his eyes. Edd grit his teeth at the indirect mention of Tom. You weren’t supposed to know about that! “I’m sorry.”

Edd stared at him, unsure how to respond. He tried to choke out a “Thank you” because he knew that was what he was supposed to say. But his throat felt as if it was full of ash, and his grief rose until he felt it might burst out of him.

Still, he kept his emotions in check. His eyes blurred with sadness, Edd only gave a tiny nod of acknowledgement and headed back inside.

The door clicked shut behind him and his strength vanished, leaving only a familiar numbness that he’d grown so accustomed to the past days. Edd’s shoulder’s sagged and his gaze was downcast.

“Edd?”

He looked up at the sound of his name. Matt was still sitting on the couch, movie paused, his knees hugged to his chest with his face half-hidden as he stared at Edd with wide dismayed eyes. “Are you okay?”

Edd’s mind was whirling. He couldn’t think beyond this moment; he only suspected his best friend’s involvement in the situation. He narrowed his eyes. “Did you know?”

Matt let out a long sigh, closing his eyes briefly as if he had to nerve himself for what he was about to say. The he faced Edd again.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you, but there was never a right time.” His blue eyes were seared with guilt.

In other words; you were afraid to make me upset. Edd couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his thoughts. Although he appreciates the sentiment, he would’ve appreciated more if he’d been warned ahead of time to better handle the situation. Doesn’t Matt know by now that keeping things from me don’t make them go away, but make them worse?

Edd took a deep breath. “Why did you tell them?”

“Tell them what?” Matt prompted, clear confusion evident on his features.

“About Tom!” Frustration made Edd hiss through gritted teeth. “Why did you have to tell them what happened?”

“I didn’t!” Matt’s eyes were genuinely mystified, and Edd realized the ginger was telling the truth; he hadn’t revealed Tom’s terrible fate to their so called former rivals. “The landlord must’ve probably mentioned to them or something. I would never say something so personal to those guys! I promise!”

For a moment that lasted a heartbeat or perhaps a full minute, Edd simply stared at him. Tension easing off his shoulders, Edd finally decided to relent and spare Matt from further distress. He looked away and sighed; running a hand through his hair as he went to sit back on the couch.

“Edd?”

“I’m fine, Matt. Just press play on the movie.” Edd leaned back with arms crossed over his chest. He kept his gaze on the screen, but could still sense the ginger’s gaze on him.

He heard Matt sigh in defeat and the film resumed; though neither of them appeared to be paying any real attention to the rest of it, now that tension was thick in the air between them.

Edd stared at the screen blankly, admittedly enjoying the aesthetic of the animation but never getting quite sucked in to what’s going on; when a slight tremor coming from his pocket caught his notice.

Edd pulled out his phone to see another message, realizing with a start he’d forgotten to reply to the message before.

(RF): Eddie?

(RF): Oi! Don’t leave me hanging bud!

He began to type back, glad to have something to distract him from the awkward occurrence that he’d just gone through.

(EG): Sorry!

(EG): Got kind of sidetracked…

(EG): But yeah, I can make it!

An instant reply popped on screen.

(RF): Splendid! :D

(RF): Same time and place sounds good to yah?

(EG): Yup

(RF): Great!

(RF): Till then

Edd closed his phone with small grin, feeling moderately better than he did now that he has something to look forward to at the end of the evening.

(Meanwhile…)

Wind swept across bleak and icy mountains, carrying with it flurries of sleet. Dark clouds blocked out the sun entirely from view, casting the landscape in shadows that only subsided for a split-second by the occasional flash of lightning that ripped through the sky.

Patrick stood firmly still amidst the storm, umbrella in hand, as he watched the soldiers work about the runway. His eyes squinted against the heavy rain and the strong, howling winds buffeting both his hair and uniform wildly in the air.

A pair of white lights appeared in the distance, heralding the approach of a helicopter. The steady sound of the rotating blades reached Pat’s ears above the clamor of the storm, and before long, the aircraft itself came into view.

He observed in silent anticipation as the helicopter neared the helipad. One of the soldiers stood right in front of it, acting as a marshall, and used the glowing batons in each hand to signal the aircraft forward to land.

The helicopter’s door slid open before the craft could even fully touch the ground, and a figure jumped out, seemingly not caring about the horrible weather he exposed himself to. If anything, he appeared to relish the freezing sting of the gale and rain against the injured side of his face.

“Home sweet home.” He sighed contently.

“Welcome back, Red Leader.”

Patrick greeted him with a courteous dip of his head, extending the umbrella over his leader’s head to shelter him from the rainstorm. “It’s good to have you back, sir. Hope you had a pleasant flight despite the dreadful weather.”

“Indeed.” Tord regarded his surroundings with a wistful glance.

After having to travel to four different bases in a matter of months, dealing with the idiocy of some of his soldiers and putting them back in line, Tord had longed to return home and resume his work on more important matters that actually deserve his time and attention.

He raised one hand and flicked his fingers, signaling for the soldiers who had been accompanying in the helicopter to move out. The soldiers exited the aircraft at his silent order, bringing with them a sealed tight crate. It was labeled “confidential” on the side with big letters, and etched in red.

“Should I know what is it that you got there with you, sir?” Patrick inquired, his gaze following the mysterious box with curious intent as the soldiers carried it inside.

“All in good time, Pat.” Tord smirked. “Although frustrating at times, my time away has also been very fruitful. I managed to gather information that will prove to be most pivotal for our research.”

And that’s all he would say in the matter.

Tord headed for the hangar’s exit, Patrick following right behind him, walking at a brisk pace. The Red Leader, although acknowledging the presence of his soldiers with a curt nod as they walked past him, barely paid them any mind. He has more pressing affairs to attend to, and he was eager to see his test subject’s development up close after being gone for so long.

“So, how’s subject #1826 doing?” Tord brought it up as soon as they got into the elevator, and out of earshot from the other Red Army members.

Patrick shot him a side-glance as he pressed the -3 button. “I thought you already knew the answer to that by now. We have been updating his progress all along after all.” He said, closing the umbrella and letting it lean on the side of his leg.

“Yes, well, the last update you sent me was nearly a month ago and I want to know all the precise details.” The Norsk stated, a hint of impatience edged in his voice. “Did he behave?”

“Yes, sir. He behaved exceptionally well in your absence.” Pat replied. “Perhaps you should consider leaving again to keep on Tom’s good graces?” He teased, a small smirk forming on his face.

“Oh ha ha! How clever of you!” Tord fake-laughed, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he narrowed his eyes. “Astounds me how you didn’t become a comedian instead of working in this dump.” He paused, his tone softening. “Still; it’s good to know he wasn’t being difficult with either of you.”

Sighing, he ran one hand through his partially wet bangs. “How is he otherwise?”

Patrick shifted his feet. “His physical condition has improved drastically since we first acquired him. His body mass and weight are back to normal measures, all his injuries have healed, and there is no trace of sickness in him. Truly, he is in the best shape possible and I think you’ll be glad with the end result.”

“Is Paul putting him through more advanced exercises now that Tom’s faring better?”

“Yes; and I believe they are in gym as we speak, sir.” Pat continued. “We also altered his diet plan. We are serving him three meals a day, with small lunch breaks in between like fruits or crackers.”

“And his mental condition?” Tord pressed.

Pat’s gaze drifted away. “I’m not entirely sure. Thomas is very closed off, and it’s hard to read him.” His shoulders slumped and he leaned back against one of the elevator walls.

Tord blinked at him with surprise. For the first time in a long while, perhaps because he hadn’t seen the Polish soldier in months, Pat looked genuinely tired.

“Pat?”

At the sound of his name, the Red Army general immediately composed himself with a tiny shake of his head. “Mentally; the results are still inconclusive. I need to perform a few more sessions to be sure.”

Tord regarded him for a moment longer.

“You think he might be ready for the experiments?” He demands. His eyes narrowed.

“Soon; but not yet, sir.” Patrick responded, clearing his throat. “Since we don’t know much about the serum’s nature, we have no way of knowing if it has any correlation to the subject’s brain activity.” He went on. “If were to start the experiments on Tom with the slightest chance of him being unstable, we have no idea how well that would translate with the serum.”

Tord looked at Patrick and solemnly nodded his line of reasoning. “Very well.” He conceded.

“Also-” The General added hastily. “The shipment of the purple stuff you ordered from our suppliers arrived last month. I took the liberty to store it in the lab for your use when the time comes.”

“Did Tom see it?”

“Negative, sir.”

“Good.”

The elevator’s doors slid open. Patrick stepped out; expecting his leader to do the same, but glancing back over his shoulder the Norsk remained unmoving.

“Aren’t you heading for your office?” Pat suggested. “Being gone for so long, I thought you’d be dying to return to your quarters.”

“Later. I want to check Thomas’ progress for myself first.” Tord answered briskly. He was restless to see Tom again, and how much he’s changed. “Contact me should you need anything.”

“Yes, sir.”

They both nodded curtly and the lift’s doors closed.

Alone in the elevator now, Tord raised the palm of his robotic hand and placed it over the panel in the wall where a scanner is situated next to the buttons. It is meant to read soldier IDs for clearance reasons. Not everyone is allowed to take the elevator, and some floors are off limits; especially the -5 level, where the serum experiments are being held in.

The scanner read the small screen that his palm displayed, and the confirmation sound rang above him. Tord pressed the button and leaned back as the lift set in motion once again. He was absolutely ecstatic to see the progress his test subject had made.

(Meanwhile…)

Breathless and sweating profusely, Tom sprinted as fast as his tired body would allow. He panted but kept on running despite his body’s pleas to stop. His heart was hammering against his chest so hard that Tom felt as if it lodged against the bottom of his throat, and nearly suffocate him. Blood roaring loudly in his ears.

He leaped over the obstacles standing in his path smoothly, regardless of his rapidly decreasing energy. Tom’s mouth felt parched, and it was tough to swallow. He was tired, and yearned for a pause to rest; yet the exercise felt rejuvenating to his being.

Using one last surge of strength in him to make it through the end of the lap, Tom pelted for the finish line. He felt eyes following his movements as he did so, and Tom risked a quick side glance to the far right of the tracks where Paul was standing. Although brief, he accidentally made eye contact with the Red Army commander; the latter even giving him an encouraging nod and a flashed a little, friendly smile.

Tom snapped his focus back to running, shaking his head dismissively. The world seemed to slow down despite his speed, and everything turned a shade darker. A sudden weight manifested on his back and coiled around his shoulders, like a snake constricting against its prey. Tom resisted the instinct to flinch when he sensed a cruel pair of sharp hands press up against his jugular.

“Don’t be fooled. ~” The voice hissed in his head. “You know they are after only one thing, and that’s why they are treating you so decently. ~” It reminded him sternly. “It’s all a ruse. Nothing more than an act for you to let your guard down. But now that you are onto them, they’ll start to get desperate to regain your trust. You better not forget that! ~”

I won’t.

The voice vanished; allowing him the chance to complete the rest of the circuit.

Upon crossing the finish line, Tom skidded to a halt and hunched over to his knees, panting to catch his breath. His forehead was coated with sweat and his face was flushed red with heat.

“44 seconds!” Paul exclaimed, pressing the stop button on his stopwatch. “You are 8 seconds slower than last time; but considering this is your fourth lap today, I say it isn’t all that bad.”

Tom did not respond. He was too busy catching his breath back to his lungs to properly process the results.

“Think you can do 2 more laps?” Paul prompted, handing him a water bottle.

Tom snatched it out of his hand, still not speaking, and tipped the bottle into his mouth. A little bit more desperate to quench his thirst than he’d intended to, he drank the water clumsily and some of it dribbled down the corners of his lips and dripped off his chin and onto his sweaty shirt.

“Sure.” He finally answered, breathless. “Just uh- just give me five minutes or so.”

“Still having the lungs of a pug, I see?”

The unexpected, and yet familiar voice made Tom stop mid-swig and choke on the water. Spitting out what remained in his mouth, Tom looked up with wide eyes; thinking perhaps it was just the voice playing another prank on him. But there was no dark haze clouding his vision, and no ghostly limbs holding him. Not to mention the speaker sounded smooth and cool. Sure enough, Tom’s fears were confirmed when his gaze landed on the imposing figure standing by the gym’s entrance. A coy smirk was plastered on the man’s face, hands folded neatly behind his back, and his one visible eye was glinting with what appeared to be a mixture of enthusiasm and interest.

Paul instantly straightened himself and saluted the Norsk as he strolled into the room. Tord acknowledged his commander with a nod as he approached, before turning his attention to Tom. “Hello, old friend.”

A wave of dread and resentment spiked through Tom at the sight of the Norwegian man. He narrowed his eyes. “F#ck, you’re back already?”

“Thomas! Is that any way to greet your leader?” Tord pretended to gasp, his eye sparkling with amusement.

“You’re not my leader, much less my friend.” Tom growled.

The Red Leader did not respond to his remark. Tord stepped closer to him, his gaze raking over the Brit with interest. Patrick wasn’t kidding when he said Tom made a full physical recovery. The test subject who had arrived in the base underweight, sickly pale, and gaunt all those months ago has made a miraculous improvement.

Tord began to circle him, taking a closer and more detailed look at him.

Tom’s skin tone took a healthier hue despite not getting any sunlight, and his frame is no longer frail bone and skin. He wasn’t wearing any bandages, and Tord could see that most of the bruises were healed except for a few faint scars. He’d developed a good mass of muscles too; most notably on his arms and torso. His legs and thighs have also grown sturdy and fit from the exercises, and the dark bags that had accentuated his eyeless sockets have disappeared. Despite being a sweaty mess right now, Tom looks generally better than he did since the last time they saw each other. The pictures certainly didn’t do him enough justice, and Tord was all the more glad he took his time to see Tom’s development for himself.

On his part, Tom was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the lack of personal space between him and the Norsk, and the intense gaze roaming his body didn’t make it any better. He kept his attention on Tord as he circled him, making sure to keep the Norwegian man on his line of sight at all times. Tom did not enjoy the way Tord was looking at him, and he found himself glaring at the man pacing around him.

“Not bad. Not bad at all.” Tord murmured under his breath, nodding in approval as his gaze wandered Tom’s form from top to bottom, and back up again one last time. His gaze eventually settled on Tom’s unique black eyes, and he cocked his head to one side with a tiny smirk. “I see the life of a soldier is treating you quite well.”

Tom turned to him fully and narrowed his eyes. “Uh, I think you mean the life of a test subject? At least that’s the official term from what I’ve heard?” He pointed toward the number tag on his shirt, as if to prove his point. “Still; can’t say the same for you.” He gestured to the burned side of the Norsk’s face.

“Anyways, where were you before I interrupted?” Tord quickly changed the subject, and switched his attention to Paul; seemingly ignoring Tom’s comment altogether.

Prick. Tom fumed irritably, taking another sip of his water bottle. Commie’s been here for five minutes, and he is already grating on my nerves.

“I’m having test subject #1826 run laps around the tracks, sir.” The Red Army Commander reported, showing him the timer on the stopwatch.

Tord eyed the numbers with a critical eye. “Decent, but I wouldn't go writing home about it.” He hummed pensively. “Mind if I stay and watch? It would be a good way to learn where his strengths and weaknesses lie for when I begin his training.”

“Training?!”

For the second time that day, Tom spat out his drink. He wiped his face clean with the back of his hand, and shot the two soldiers an incredulous look. “What training? What are you talking about?”

The Red Leader pinched the bridge of his nose with sigh, his lips quirked upward in the form of a small grin. “Oh Tom, you mean to tell me you haven’t pieced it together?” He teased. “I know you’re dense, but surely you must’ve suspected something out of the intense exercises we put you through? All of this isn’t just for the sake of keeping you fit, you know. If that were the case, I would just have you running on a treadmill with a bottle of Smirnoff hanging on the other end and it would probably work just as well!”

“The hell you talking about?”

“What do you think? You are going to be a soldier, Tom.”

Tom froze with shock at his words. He felt as if he’d been hit in the chest by a ten-pound sledge hammer, and was standing there stunned and staring in disbelief at the f#cker who assaulted him. For a second, Tom hoped he just imagined or misheard what Tord said; however, judging by the clear satisfaction on the Norwegian’s face it was evident he’d heard correctly.

Anger soon replaced shock, and Tom clenched his fists with a scowl. He wasn’t even sure what he was supposed to say. What? Why? F#ck? No? Uh? Knowing he would make a blunder of himself if he attempts to speak, Tom resorted to follow his most basic urge at the moment.

He flung the water bottle at Tord’s face.

Foreseeing his moves, the Red Leader effortlessly caught it mid-air before it could strike him. Tord felt Paul shrink back in shock beside him, looking back and forth between him and Tom anxiously; anticipating the situation to escalate any moment now. But Tord was calm- in fact, he was amused by the eyeless man’s antics.

He looked at the bottle in his hand, then turned back to Tom. “I’ll let it slide, this time.” He warned.

His comment seems to stir Tom’s fury further, and the Brit marched up to him stiff-legged until they were practically nose to nose. “No. There’s absolutely no f#cking way I will ever be another one of your stupid soldiers!”

Tord frowned. “Your future is non-negotiable at this point, Thomas.” He pointed out matter-of-factly. “You signed your life over to the Red Army when you took the deal, remember?”

“To be a test subject for your stupid plans. That’s it. I didn’t know about this garbage when I agreed!” Tom snarled.

“Admittedly, at the time this wasn’t part of my plans either. But after giving some thought on the situation, I realized it’s the best course of action for you.” Tord reasoned coolly. “We can’t afford to transport you out in the middle of the battlefield. What’s the point of a super-secret weapon if it’s impractical? You’ll be of much better use in the front lines, where you may shift if we ever need to turn the tides of battle to our favor.”

Tom stumbled backward, hardly believing what he was hearing. Being the commie’s test subject was bad enough; but now he wants him as a soldier too? Tom shivered in disgust at the thought of being just another one of Tord’s stupid, brainless, and obedient pawns. The image of wearing the ridiculous red and blue uniform made him nearly visibly retch.

From the sidelines, Paul stepped closer to them. “Sir, I sincerely urge you to reconsider.” He spoke up. “All Red Army members joined by choice, and Thomas should get the same rights as they did.”

Tom glanced at him in surprise. He wasn’t expecting Paul to jump to his defense against his own leader’s judgement. However, Tom was quick to crush any presumption that Paul was doing this out of some resemblance of care he may have for him.

Tord turned to his Commander with narrowed eyes. “I already gave him the choice to join us, and he did so willingly.” You forced me into it you prick! Tom bristled at the reminder of the threat put over his friend’s lives. “I don’t see why I have to give him a second chance if he’s already part of our organization anyway.”

Paul shook his head, looking troubled. “Pat’s not going to like that, sir.”

“Then Pat can discuss this with me himself.” Tord retorted through gritted teeth, his patience running thin. Paul sighed in defeat, dipping his head toward his leader and stepping away again.

A sudden pressure increased inside Tom’s head and his gaze darkened. “Shouldn’t you be happy? You’re getting promoted from lab mutt to loyal hound! This is the greatest thing you will ever achieve in your miserable existence. Might as well commit to the position. ~” The voice commented ponderingly with a hint of a chuckle, patting his head forcefully. “Or… you should take this as a bigger incentive to go through with your plan. Whichever you prefer. ~” The hand patting his head grabbed a hold of his scalp, sinking nail like claws into his skull and pulling hard. Tom winced. “Vacation is over! Time to start acting, or else! ~” The heavy weight constricting his brain seemed to uncurl and release him, and his vision dimmed back to normal.

“Now then, if there aren’t any further arguments perhaps we should resume with your exercises.” Tord clasped his hands together, straightening his posture and with his chin raised to assume a more authoritative appearance. His one gray eye gleamed back at Tom mockingly, as if daring him to challenge his power.

Tom glanced back at him, muscles still stiff with outrage- or maybe it’s just from all the exercises he’s done so far. He wanted to argue. He wanted to keep on defying him for every little thing, and throw insults at the commie’s face. But what’s the point of any of it anymore? Not give Tord the satisfaction of obeying him? You would think with the constant desire to die floating around in his head, he would have gotten better on his priorities, but evidently not. Tom’s rivalry with Tord is not something easily brushed over no matter what circumstances they’re in.

Mustering all his self-control, Tom simply sighed and nodded briskly. “Fine.” He begrudgingly relented.

Catching Tom’s gaze, Paul cleared his throat and nodded solemnly. “Two laps.”

Tom took a deep breath and walked over to the starting point, well-aware of the Norsk’s gaze following him. He took position; standing with his feet about shoulder-width apart with his right leg just behind the starting line- and waited for Paul to give the signal.

From the corner of his vision, Tom could see Tord standing off to the side of the tracks next to Paul. Tom elected to ignore his presence, and pretend he wasn’t currently in the same room as him; or that he was standing in such a close proximity of the Norwegian man. He caught a glimpse of Tord’s robotic arm and remembering what happened the last time he’d been present on his physical evaluation, Tom stared at the device intently- silently urging it to glitch again to get Tord out of the room. It’s times such as these Tom wished he’d been given psychic powers along with the rest of his gifts.

“And… go!”

At the signal, Tom pelted away at once as Paul pressed start on his stopwatch. Tord watched Tom race through the tracks, his gaze pinned on the eyeless man as he leaped over the obstacles at a decent speed.

Not taking his eyes off the test subject, Tord addressed his Commander. “Anything unusual happened while I was gone?”

“Unusual, sir?” Paul echoed, raising one eye-brow in confusion.

“With him.” Tord nodded in Tom’s general direction. “Has he demonstrated any odd behavior changes as of late?”

Paul shrugged. “Nothing out of the ordinary, sir.”

Tord pursed his lips, unsatisfied. “Any more fainting episodes?”

“Negative, sir. Ever since his withdrawal subsided, Thomas hasn’t displayed any signs of fatigue or illness.” The Commander fidgeted. “Although he does get sluggish from time to time, and he often complains about headaches.”

Tord hummed thoughtfully, his hand trailing over the designs of his prosthetic one continuously. “And what are you giving him? Pat mentioned you changed his diet according to the improvement of his condition.”

“Normal meals. Mostly what the mess hall serves for the day, with the exception of red meat.”

The additional information caught the Red Leader’s interest, drawing his attention away from the tracks to look at the man beside him intently. “No red meat? Why is that?”

“Tom made his distaste abundantly clear when we served it to him the first time.” Paul admitted. “After that, he insisted on only fish and chicken.”

Interesting bit of trivia. Tord narrowed his eyes. He was brought out of his thoughts when Tom raced past them, panting profusely as he crossed over the finish line. His face was flushed red with the heat of the exercise, and his pacing was slow, if a little sloppy.

As soon as he reached the end, Tom collapsed to the floor; chest heaving as he fought to catch back his breath.

Tord looked over to Paul.

“50 seconds- slightly slower than last time.” He states, showing him the timer on his stopwatch.

Tord frowned. His stamina leaves a lot to be desired. He thought exasperatedly. Then his aggravation gave way to determination. But I know he can run much better than this!

Fortunately, Tord knows just what exactly he needs to bring out the best of the eyeless man.

He walked up to where Tom was splayed on the floor, still panting. Tord loomed over him with his arms folded behind his back and nudged the test subject’s body with one foot. “Get up.”

Tom looked up at him. “Yeah yeah- just uh- just give me a second.”

“It’s already been a second.” Tord stated firmly. “C’mon. The sooner you are done with this, the faster you can take a shower. You smell awful.”

At the insult, Tom’s gaze drifted from the ceiling to glare at the Norwegian man towering over him. Wincing at the effort in his tired limbs, Tom heaved himself to his feet. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.” He spat.

The Brit walked back to the starting point and readied himself into position. He still occasionally swayed from side to side, having not fully recovered yet; however, he patiently waited for Paul to give him the signal.

Watching him intently, Tord managed to suppress the grin the threatened to form on his face as he played his plan over again in his head. Let him have a head start.

“And… go!”

Tom rushed away immediately. He pushed himself forward despite the constant protests of his body for him to stop and rest, but he’ll only be able to do so after he’s done with the dumb exercises. Tom’s chest tightened with the lack of breath, and he felt his lungs practically screaming. The world seemed to close around him, but he pushed onward, his vision narrowed to a tunnel, fixed only on the tracks.

Suddenly, the sound of thrumming and fast footsteps catching up to him reached his ears. Before Tom could fully process it, Tord appeared right next him; matching his pace effortlessly. Tom looked at him in bewilderment.

“What the f-?!”

“Why so shocked, Jehovah?” Tord taunted knowingly. “At the rate that you’re running, even a crippled turtle would outrun you.”

Tom scowled. “Give me a break, you stupid commie! This is my sixth lap today to your first – cut me some slack, will you?”

Tord smirked. “Grouchy much?”

They jumped over the obstacles standing in their way together, with Tord taking the lead by a few inches ahead of Tom. However, despite his lazy speed it was clear the Norsk was only pacing himself to stay in step with the tired test subject. He can ditch him any time he wants but opted not to yet just to aggravate the Brit further.

While Tord leaped over the barriers in his way with smooth precision, Tom was clumsy in his lack of energy and his foot accidentally caught the upper-edge of the obstacle; slowing him down as he staggered forward and knocked the barrier to the ground. He quickly put his hands out in front of him to prevent himself from face-planting the floor.

“Classic stupid Tom! ~” Tord laughed, leaving him behind as he raced on ahead. “Watch your step, or you’re just going to keep eating dust.”

Fuming with anger, Tom hared after Tord as fast as he could. No way he was gonna let the commie get the best of him.

“Take it easy!” Paul called after him. “It’s not a race, remember?”

Tell that to Tord! Tom raced harder.

“C’mon Thomas, don’t be like that. Second best is nothing to be ashamed of!” He heard Tord laugh way up ahead.

His lungs ached. A cramp stabbed his ribs. Tord was already halfway back. At this rate, the Norsk would be able to lap him by the time he reached the finish line. How can he run that fast? He’s a smoker! Tom thought incredulously. He forced himself to keep going. The floor flashed beneath him as he fought for each breath. Tord stopped running and stood next to Paul by the end of the tacks to watch him. Dragging in another breath, he hurtled the last few meters and skidded to a halt beside them.

“I- I did! Ha ha…” Tom cheered pathetically, throwing his arms up but giving up half-way to let them rest by his sides. “In your… face!” He pointed at Tord, jabbing him on his chest weakly.

“The best soldier is the one who’s still fighting at the end of the battle. Don’t use up all your strength in the first fight.” Tord advised coolly.

Tom frowned. “Whatever; just give me the damn water bottle.”

Deciding he had enough fun tormenting the poor Brit for today, Tord obliged to his request and tossed the bottle over to him. He turned to Paul. “How was the time this lap?”

“42 seconds! He did much better this time around.” Paul exclaimed.

Of course he did. Tord thought smugly. Tom would never let me best him without trying. All he needed was a little motivation. And though it was not his intent, he actually had a lot of fun racing Tom; even if it was just to nag him into hurrying up. It reminded him of the good old days when they had physical education together as children.

But Tom can still improve. He pushed the childish thoughts aside and shifted back to his leader persona.

“I think Thomas needs a little demonstration on how it should be done.” Tord decided. “Paul, will you please do the honors?”

“Yes, sir.”

Paul tore away, following the line of the tracks at a steady pace.

Tord beckoned Tom over. “Watch him closely.” He ordered as the Brit neared and stood beside him. Upon closer inspection, Tord realized how completely spent and unsteady Tom was on his feet. He placed one hand on the eyeless man’s shoulder to steady him. He immediately felt him tense in his grip, and Tom tried to brush him away; however, although his grasp was not firm, it was persistent and kept Tom from nearly falling over.

“See how much space he covers with each step. Watch how he stretches forward each time his feet leave the ground. Speed is vital, but you need to be in control of the speed.” Tord murmured.

Tom watched attentively how Paul curved his leg with each stride. The Red Commander was at ease with his movements as he raced through the tracks, and doesn’t appear to be the least bit tired by the time he skidded to a halt beside them.

“One last lap. Got your breath back?” Tord asked.

Tom sighed. “Yeah.”

“Don’t aim for speed.” Tord warned. “You need your strength later.”

Tom dipped his head and walked over to the starting line. As soon as Paul gave the signal to go he broke into a run, not pushing hard at first but gaining rhythm and speed as he crossed the tracks. He focused on each bound, reaching out with his feet a little farther before they touched the ground. He pushed harder with every stride until he was aware of nothing but the steady thrumming of his feet and the way his breath fell in time with his pace. He was suddenly moving with ease and hardly noticed any shortage of oxygen in his lungs.

“Much better! You got 32 seconds this time around.” Tord’s voice surprised him. He’d completed the lap of the running track already, so focused that he hadn’t seen him. He pulled up, slowing to a halt before turning and strolling back to his side.

“Nice work, Tom.” Paul acknowledged him with a dip of his head. “I think we’re done for the day. Go ahead and shower.”

“Yes!” Tom breathed in relief. “Thank god, I thought I was about to throw up my lungs all over the floor from so much exercise.”

Tord rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic, Thomas.” He flashed him a knowing grin. “You’ll get used to them in time.”

Merely scoffing in reply, Tom picked up a fresh change of clothes and headed for the restroom in the back of the gym. Tord watched him leave, getting farther away until he entered the bathroom and disappeared from sight.

“So…”

Paul’s voice jerked Tord out of his thoughts, and he blinked in confusion. “So?” He echoed.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were planning to make Tom a soldier?” Paul crossed his arms, staring at him as he patiently waited for a reasonably good explanation.

Tord sighed. “I had a hunch Tom might’ve grown attached to the two of you, and vice versa, in my absence. I didn’t want to potentially sour this little trust triangle you got going on by having either of you feeding him that information.” He admitted. “Tom has a tendency to take things a lot more personally than they’re intended to be. He’s… interesting that way.” He paused, running his organic hand through his locks. “He wouldn’t have taken it well had you or Pat told him. It’s best to have his anger target someone who already had plenty of experience in the past.”

“Hm, and have three people be disappointed in you as opposed to only one – yes, very good planning on your part if I say so myself, sir.” Paul muttered somewhat condescendingly. “You could’ve just ordered us to not tell him, if that were the case!”

“It wouldn’t have worked – Tom would’ve just taken that as a bigger offence.” Tord stated coolly. “Anyway, It doesn’t matter anymore. What’s done is done, and now you know.”

Paul tsked, his eyes gleaming in anticipation of trouble ahead. “You’re the leader. But Pat ain’t gonna like this one bit. You know how he is with keeping vital information from the two of us.”

Tord shrugged stubbornly. “Patrick will just have to accept the decision.”

“If you insist, sir.” Paul frowned. “However, I must remind you that our schedules are kind of in a tight fit. Between dealing with the formal aspects of the base and evaluating Tom’s condition twice a week; it will be hard for either of us to find time to oversee Tom’s soldier training on top of all that.”

“Don’t worry, Paul. I already took all of that into consideration when I made my decision.” The Norwegian man dismissed his concerns. “Which is why I had my schedule re-organized to fit in time for Tom’s training.”

Had he been drinking, Paul would’ve surely spat it out all over the floor by now. “You’ll mentor him?” He sputtered, staring at his leader incredulously. “Is that a good idea, sir?”

Tord crossed his arms. “Why shouldn’t I?” He asked, feeling annoyance beginning to sour his good humor. “This isn’t the first time I personally train soldiers; and Thomas is a special case.”

“Because you two don’t get along.” Retorted Paul matter-of-factly. “Leaving you alone with him is the biggest recipe for disaster I ever heard. Anything goes wrong, and you’ll immediately go at each other’s throats – you said so yourself! Wouldn’t it make more sense to have either Pat or I to mentor him? You know… someone he actually trusts?”

Tord hesitated. There was some truth in what Paul said, but Tord knew that he couldn’t give the task to any other person. He had to have Tom under his own guidance to keep a close eye on any signs of the serum affecting his performance, and make sure he stayed loyal to the Red Army. He knew the most logical choice would be to have either of his most trusted soldiers to train him. Yet something made him reluctant to give Tom to either of them. They don’t have quite the same extensive knowledge about Tom the way that he does.

“My mind’s made up.” He stated curtly. “He’s part of the Red Army one way or another, so he’ll have to get used to my presence eventually. We can’t keep delaying that, so might as well cross that bridge as soon as possible.”

A curious, and yet somehow teasing hum reached his ears. Tord turned to Paul, blinking in surprise when he noticed the Commander staring at him disbelievingly. He narrowed his eyes in return. “What?”

“Sir… do you still harbor feelings for him after all?”

Tord’s mechanical fist immediately clenched. Paul’s words have probed a Pandora’s box of emotions he’d so carefully locked away and abandoned in the deepest part of his subconscious; buried beneath an endless pile of duties and future plans he would so often lose himself to, in order to feed his ambition and aspirations as an army leader, and thus, keep him blissfully ignorant of their existence.

His mood turning stone cold, Tord was quick to grab a hold of himself before he could be swept back to the contents of that particular box, and fixed Paul with a deadly glare. “No, I don’t.” He snarled, straightening his posture to a more authoritative attitude. “Tom is nothing more than a test subject, who just so happens to be the key to victory to my conquest for world domination. Other than that, Tom means nothing to me. Are we clear on that fact?”

Paul opened his mouth to reply, when another voice cut in.

“Hey Paul! I think the ventilation system in the bathroom is busted – it’s way too hot in there!”

They looked up just in time to see Tom exit the restroom, wearing only pants as he dried the bare upper part of his body with a towel.

Tord’s face heat up at the sight of Tom’s shirtless form standing several feet in front of him, melting away all remnants of his anger as he stared at him in awe. His one-eyed gaze raked over the eyeless man’s features, tracing every detail of his well-built and toned chest. Tord realized with exhilaration that Tom was still wet and coated in water as the tiny specks caught the light and gave his appearance a more radiant look, and the Norsk watched as the eyeless man dried himself slack-jawed in amazement.

“Well, I can certainly see why you’re called the Red Leader.”

Paul’s teasing remark cut through Tord’s thoughts and he immediately blinked back to reality. With greater difficulty than he cared to admit, Tord tore his gaze away from the shirtless Brit, and glanced at his Commander who’s looking up at him with a smug expression.

Tord froze, feeling panic rise within him. “Was my staring really that obvious?”

“You were practically drooling, sir.” Paul replied simply, unable to keep the mirth out of his voice as he gestured toward the moisture coating the Norsk’s chin.

Flushing in embarrassment, Tord wiped away the dampness from his chin with the back of his hand. Despair seized Tord, as the terrible realization that Paul had been right dawned on him.

No… no! This cannot be!

What was supposed to be nothing more than a childish crush for Tom – something Tord had taken great lengths to get over and forget about in order to pursuit his goals, has come back to haunt him. The emotions he worked so hard to shoot dead and bury six feet under, have risen from the grave like a strike of lightning through his body.

He risked another glimpse of the eyeless man, mortified at the notion of Tom having seen his slip up and dumbfounded stare. Tord breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed Tom had been too busy drying himself to really pay attention to what they were doing. His stare lingered a couple seconds longer and watched the Brit put on a shirt; all the while despising the familiar fluttering sensation stirring in the pit of his stomach as he admired the sight.

Anger and frustration flared up inside of Tord, quickly squashing down these invasive emotions with an iron fist. I am the Red Leader, and future ruler of the whole world. He reminded himself solemnly. I cannot be distracted by insignificant emotions – they lead to weakness, and I am not weak! He’d already made an exception for Paul and Pat in his life, he can’t afford to be soft-hearted now.

“First you want Tom as a test subject, then as a soldier… next step I guess would be to have him as your-”

Tord did not let the Commander finish his sentence. He spun around, looking furious, and Paul instantly regretted his words as he was grabbed by the front of his uniform by the Red Leader.

“This changes nothing.” The Norwegian man stated, his voice deadly quiet and yet very clear. “Mark my words; if this ever gets out to anyone other than the two of us, the soldiers will be wondering why we haven’t had a taco Friday for the last two years, capiche?”

Paul blinked at him, more bewildered than afraid by his leader’s threat. “Yes, sir.”

“Uh… am I interrupting something?”

Tord let go of Paul at once, and they quickly composed themselves as they turn to address Tom; who’d been standing there for a while in clear confusion.

“Ah yes! The ventilation system. Right.” Tord cleared his throat, straightening himself. “Paul, would you be so kind to have a look at it while I escort Thomas to his quarters?”

“I can walk there by myself, you know.” Tom remarked dryly.

“Oh, I am sure that you can!” The Norsk grinned, his voice smooth and condescending. “However, there are some things that I must discuss with you.”

Tom groaned in exasperation and appear to roll his non-existent eyes, but remained quiet as he walked past Tord and headed toward the gym’s doors. Tord chuckled softly under his breath and followed suit, keeping pace with the huffy test subject.

Paul hadn’t uttered a word throughout the exchange, but Tord noticed that his eyes were glowing with amusement as his gaze followed the pair leave. His interaction with Tom was obviously entertaining the Commander greatly. Tord felt a self-conscious prickle ripple through his skin, and he looked away awkwardly; keeping his gaze anywhere else as he exited the gym with Tom.

As soon as the doors slid shut behind him, Tord felt instant relief flood through him.

Together, they trekked through the long corridors of the lab level. Tord appeared to have something on his mind, and Tom grew increasingly impatient.

“Alright.” Tom began with a weary sigh. “What’s so important that you just had to make me put up with you for longer than I would’ve liked?”

Stifling the laugh bubbling in his throat, Tord merely regarded the eyeless man walking alongside him intently. Tom already hasn’t taken the news of his soldier training very well, so imagine how he’ll react when Tord tells him that he’s going to be the one in charge of said training? Tord shrugged. No matter what way he goes about it, Tom’s anger is inevitable; so he might as well out with it.

“Paul and Patrick have done an excellent work with your improvement thus far. However, as their duties to the army come first, neither of them will be available to aid in your training as a soldier.” Tord paused and watched Tom’s expression shift slightly as he listened carefully. “So I will be personally in charge of overseeing your training.”

He waited for anger to spark in the Brit’s dark, empty sockets, and a resentful curse to be spat his way as he was pinned to the nearest wall by the neck. But Tom merely looked at him, took a deep breath and said: “Fine.”

Tord turned to him in bewilderment. “Wait… you’re okay with this?” He asked, genuinely stupefied by the reaction he got.

Tom shrugged. “What’s the point of getting angry over something that’s out of my control? Yeah it sucks, but it’s not like I can do anything to change it now.”

Who are you, and what have you done with Tom? Tord nearly said out loud, but curbed his tongue at the last second. Looking closely at the test subject now, he realized how miserable and defeated Tom appeared to be. Even after he’d taken a shower, Tom remained tired. Tord couldn’t help but frown in disappointment. He’d been expecting – anticipating even! – for Tom to revolt like the stubborn little spitfire that he knows and-

Tord slammed the breaks on that train of thought at once. Goddamn it, Paul! Frustration welled up inside of him. Why did he have to say anything? Tord had his emotions and thoughts well under control until he had them pointed out to. Now that he is made aware of their existence one more, Tord is struggling to keep cool and not acknowledge them at any given chance.

Doing his best in disregarding them, Tord jerked out of his thoughts and realized they were standing in front of Tom’s quarters.

The door slid open with a quiet hiss and Tom strolled inside, with Tord peering into the room from the entrance. He was surprised to find that Tom’s living arrangements have gained a lot more character since the last time he’d been here.

There were shelves attached to the wall opposite the doorway, with a limited selection of books. Tord guessed Pat had lent some to Thomas after the latter complained of boredom, and possibly to reward him for his good behavior as well. There’s a simple, cube-shaped, navy blue radio by his nightstand displaying the time and date in neon green numbering; next to a lamp. A stack of blank sheets of paper are kept in one corner of the room, with a few pens scattered around. And glued on the surface of a dart board, hanging on the bathroom door, was a crude drawing of Tord with darts stabbed all over the drawing.

Tord raised one eyebrow in amusement. “I can see you made yourself right at home.” He chuckled.

“Yeah yeah, laugh all you want; but I couldn’t stand taking naps all the time, and this was the best Paul and Pat could do for me.” Tom turned around to face Tord with arms crossed over his chest and sighed tiredly. “When… will we start training?” He hesitantly asked.

“In two weeks, more or less.” Tord murmured, making a quick mental revision of his schedule for the next few days. “You don’t have to worry about the specifics. I will come for you when the time comes.”

It dawned on him then that Tom wasn’t worried about missing the training, but rather, dreading it. Idiot. Tord berated himself for his mistake, then followed up with a chain of curses for even caring about it in the first place. Why should the Red Leader care whether or not his test subject is happy with his fate? It’s not his fault Tom hadn’t seen this coming when he signed his life over to him!

And yet… how come he felt melancholic all of a sudden?

It is then that Tord remembers how much he despises when Tom became curt and unresponsive, no matter how much he’d tease the Brit. Tom is no fun when he’s like that. Uh yeah! It’s boredom that I’m feeling – no way in hell this could be a sadness of any kind. He tried telling himself that, when an idea sparked inside his head and he grinned. And I know just the thing to get a reaction out of him.

“Ah! I almost forgot. I got something for you.” Tord practically purred. He fumbled with the inner pocket of his uniform, looking for something. Tom’s eyebrows shot upward in sudden interest, but he eyed the Norsk wearily; as if he were expecting the man in red to pull a dirty trick on him. “You behaved so well while I was away, and you did good today. I think you deserve a reward.”

Tom didn’t know what he was expecting to get, perhaps a box of dog treats because that’s how petty Tord is. However, as soon as the Norwegian man pulled out his prize from his pocket, Tom let out a barely audible gasp as he stared at the familiar teddy bear with the iconic unibrow in place of its of eyes.

“Tomee bear!”

Tord held the plushie out for Tom to take, and it took everything he had to not swipe his childhood bear immediately out of the Commie’s grasp. For all he knows, Tord is just setting a trap for him. How did he get this? Tomee bear is back at- Tom looked at his dear plushie for several heartbeats, his expression turning to one of confusion before settling on shock as he slowly pieced the pieces together and looked back up at Tord.

Horror welled up inside of Tom. “You… you went near them?!”

Tord regarded him with a curious gaze and cocked his head to one side. “Define: near.”

Horror gave way to fury, and Tom bristled with rage. There was nothing holding him back from attacking Tord right here and now. Tord broke his end of the deal, and Tom doesn’t have to obey him anymore.

He was about to launch himself at the Norsk and attack, but Tord had predicted his reaction and pressed a button on his robotic arm. Tom blinked in surprised when his body went rigid against his will, his muscles cramping at once, and found himself unable to move.

“Ah ah ah! Let’s not break your streak of good behavior now, Thomas. It would be a shame if I had to take away some of your privileges so soon after my return.” Tord tutted.

A muffled growl of frustration rumbled from Tom’s throat as he tried in vain to move any of his limbs, but they were all unresponsive and tucked close together against his body.

“Don’t bother. It’s another feature of the chip we have implanted on your spine, remember? Be thankful I hadn’t used a controlled shock this time! Your body is completely paralyzed until I decide to free you again.” Tord went on, messing around with the teddy bear in his hands whilst simultaneously mocking Tom, as if to say: I got your precious bear, and you can’t do sh#t about it! But Tom was more furious at the notion that the Commie went anywhere near the friends he was trying so hard to keep safe and was now parading freely in front of him without fear of any repercussions.

“Guess I can’t really blame you for reacting the way that you did. But to be fair; you never specified the meaning of “near” when we made our deal. So as far as I know, “near” could mean one meter of distance.” Tord reasoned with a shrug, stepping closer to Tom’s frozen form.

The test subject could do nothing but watch as the Norsk towered over him. He couldn’t even shrink back to put some space between the uncomfortable proximity they were in. Tom screamed internally when different types of hands, one made of skin and the other out of metal, cupped the sides of his face. Get off of me! Tom desperately wanted to slap the hands away from him but found himself still as a statue despite his attempts to struggle.

“However, though I know my word doesn’t mean much to you, I can assure you I did not interact with them in any way.” Tord continued speaking. “I admit, I did see them… but they were a well good ten meters away from where I was, and they had no idea I was there.” He paused, his tone softening. “It just so happens that they were visiting your grave at the time.”

Tom stopped his futile struggles and listened.

“They wanted to give your precious Tomee bear back to its rightful owner, and so they left it by your tombstone.” Tord went on. “Me, watching the entire scene from far away, thought to myself right then: “Hm… It sure would be a pity to leave my test subject’s most prized possession to rot here when all Edd and Matt want is to give it back. So why not fulfil their wish?” So I went ahead and took it as soon as they left.” He clarified, peering into Tom’s unique, dark eyes. “So you see? I haven’t infringed our deal at all! Even though you never specified the terms of “near”, I did keep my word and never interacted with them. Which means that our deal still stands in full.”

Edd and Matt are still safe. Understanding slowly dawned on Tom, and his temper cooled significantly. And they… miss me? He felt touched by the implication. Unfortunately, he couldn’t quite appreciate the notion with Tord still holding his face and infringing his personal space like that.

As if he had been reading his thoughts, Tord pulled away from him, and Tom breathed a small sigh of relief. “Now that everything is cleared up, I am going to release you from your paralysis, and you won’t attack me.” He instructed carefully. “Then you can either accept the gift I so generously fetched for you or refuse it; whichever you prefer. But one wrong move, and you’re going to regret it. Am I clear?”

An awkward silence met his words. Tom couldn’t speak or nod, so they just stood there until Tord realized that for himself and face palmed. “Uh… make a noise if you understand.” Tord repeated.

He heard a low grunt from the eyeless man in response. Satisfied, Tord pressed the same button on his arm and set Tom free from his statue-like state.

“Ah! You f#cker!” Tom cursed loudly as soon as he could move again. Feeling his muscles were stiff, like he’d just been electrocuted, Tom made quick work to check all his limbs were working properly by stretching and gently massaging them.

Tord grinned, happy he managed to bring out the good old Tom he found so endearing to pester.

Endearing?

Fun! Tord corrected his thoughts, growing increasingly frustrated at himself at this point. This is getting ridiculous.

Choosing to ignore his traitorous thoughts for now and deal with them later, Tord offered the odd teddy bear out to Tom again. The eyeless man paused in his ministrations and regarded Tomee bear with a suspicious stare. He looks up at Tord with the same look; as if to ask him “no more tricks?”

Tord nodded encouragingly.

Tom narrowed his eyes but reached for the stuffed bear regardless. As soon as he had his cherished teddy bear out of the Norsk’s grasp and into his own, Tom was hit with an immense wave of emotions. Tomee bear had been a gift from his father, and since his death, Tom had taken great lengths to cherish the bear by keeping it close to him at all times. Now that he is stuck in this forsaken base, and will most likely die here as well, Tomee bear now serves as a reminder for his friends too.

Tom hugged the plush tightly to his chest and nuzzled it. He could care less if he was being vulnerable in front of Tord right now. The Commie has no emotional connection to the bear whatsoever, and by god, Tom is not going to be ashamed to cherish the hell out of it even more.

Tord watched the scene with growing fondness and a small smile on his face. Even after all these years… He thought warmly. He still loves that stuffed bear with all his heart. He felt a familiar, but not at all unpleasant tingle in his chest.

“Thanks.”

Tord snapped out of his thoughts when Tom spoke to him, albeit reluctantly judging by his low tone of voice. The Norsk flushed in embarrassment. “Oh! Uh y-you’re welcome?” He stuttered, and immediately cringed. Today is not going the way that I expected. He recomposed himself and cleared his throat, lifting his chin with an air of authority to him. “Yes- anyway, I have pressing matters to attend to at the moment, so I’ll leave you be to your peaceful solitude.” He said, recovering from his slip up with what he deemed sufficient grace.

“You do that…” Tom muttered.

Without another word, Tord quickly stepped out of the room and let the door hiss shut behind him. He let out a long sigh of exasperation and pinched the bridge of his nose. Damn it all! Tord cursed, his jaw clenched.

He began to put as much distance between himself and Tom’s quarters, quickening his pace in longer strides as he headed for the elevator, whilst continuously chastising himself for being caught off guard by his weak emotions.

“This doesn’t change anything.” Tord kept telling himself under his breath. “I lived just fine with these emotions before, and that doesn’t mean I’ll go soft-hearted now. I’ll just have to stay as far away from Tom until his training begins; I can easily neglect these feelings again until then.” And maybe Paul, just in case. Tord isn’t taking any chances. He can’t go back to be who he once was – that version of him isn’t strong enough to face the future he’d planned ahead. Red Leader, on the other hand, is powerful. To lead his army to glory and achieve his goals, he must be more like the Red Leader he had envisioned, and less like the weak dork that he had vowed he would never be again.

Friendship and love are worthless to me in the long run. Tord reminded himself sternly. There’ll come a day when I’ll be so powerful, I’ll have no need for anyone else. And when that day comes, the world will bow down to me. He smirked wickedly at the thought.

However, his thoughts came to an abrupt stop when he turned the corner only to bump into a very livid looking Patrick. The General’s eyes flashed at him.

“What’s this Paul tells me?” Pat demanded. “Is it true that you are going to train Tom as a soldier without consulting us first?”

Faen. Tord cursed his luck.

(Meanwhile…)

Rain fell steadily, drumming on the hard pavement that led between unending rows of city blocks. From time to time a car thundered past, its headlights glaring, and people scurried along their merry way to escape the rainstorm.

Wearing the hood over his head and both his hands stuffed in his pockets, Edd looked both ways and hurriedly crossed the street when he deemed safe enough to proceed.

Harsh yellow light angled across him, and he flinched as a car roared around the corner, throwing up a wave of filthy water that reeked of rubbish. Edd let out a startled yelp as the water slopped around his feet and the spray splashed his clothes.

“Argh, great.” Edd muttered sarcastically, looking down at his wet clothes.

Despite his current condition, Edd was excited to be out here. When his disastrous evening with Matt didn’t go the way they had been expecting to, Edd was looking forward to meeting with Reagan and spend some quality time away from all his problems. He really needed to catch a break.

Barely visible through the clouds, the moon was at its height by the time the Harrybrook hotel came into view. Edd hurried his step, eager to get this night going. He reached the foyer of the hotel and looked around for Reagan but found no signs of him anywhere. Edd frowned. Is he getting ready still?

Pulling his phone out Edd quickly began to type in a text.

(EG): Hey!!

(EG): I’m here

(EG): Wh-

“EDDIE!”

A loud voice practically shouted in his ears and a pair of hands came down and clutched his shoulders in a tight, and sudden grip. Edd did not budge or react in any way. He raised one eyebrow, evidently not impressed and looked over his shoulder.

“Hey Reagan.” He greeted casually, not fazed by the Irishman’s attempts of scaring him.

Reagan frowned. “Wha- ? You didn’t get scared?”

Edd shrugged. “Meh. Kind of hard to get scared when you greet me the exact same way every time we go hang out together.”

Reagan placed one hand over his own chest, where his heart should be. “Are you calling me predictable?”

The brunet smirked. “Well, I’m not calling you original, so…”

The Irishman let out a fake, exaggerated gasp before narrowing his eyes. “So that’s how it is then? Well… I guess this means I just have to try harder from here on out.” His mesmerizing green eyes glowed with mirth. “That’s quite alright; I am always up for a challenge. But I’m warning you now – you’re going to regret it.”

Edd laughed. “Ooh! I am terrified!”

A large grin stretched across Reagan’s face. “It’s sure good to see you, buddy.” He chuckled, giving a tap on Edd’s shoulder so hearty that it almost pushed the brunet off balance. “What do you say we go to a pub and drink, maybe eat some fries, and do some stupid sh#t together?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Alrighty then!”

Reagan looped his arm around Edd’s shoulders, bringing the Brit closer to him as they began to head down the street; jovially laughing along the way.

Following their initial meeting several weeks back, with Edd agreeing to be Reagan’s guide for the duration of his cryptic job; they began spending more casual time together. It mostly consists of them goofing about, doing stupid stuff, and Edd showing the Irishman around town.

They walked though the dim, rainy streets for a while, not caring for the bad weather going on around them. Occasionally Edd would stop and point out something about the town to Reagan, going over briefly about the locations they strolled past before carrying on their way.

They came across a bar and decided to settle there. Reagan burst in with vigorous delight, his green eyes bright like a child’s in a candy store as he sat in one of the stools at the bar stand. Edd followed suit a little slower. He checked his surroundings wearily, inspecting the other bystanders in the establishment before taking a seat next to Reagan.

Edd’s no stranger to bars. He just doesn’t go to them very often.

The bartender asked for their orders.

“Beer. Just beer. Any beer. Doesn’t matter just as long is it is beer.” Reagan told the middle-aged man behind the counter.

The barkeep raised one eyebrow, and then turned to Edd.

“Iced cola for me, please.”

Reagan appeared to scoff and throw him an incredulous look as the bartender left to go get their drinks. “Cola? Really?”

“What?” Edd turned to him in confusion.

“Dude, you now that I’m the one paying, right?” The Irishman continued. “You can have anything you want, and you go for cola?”

Edd shrugged. “I am not much of a drinker.”

The blonde man tsked. “Aiight, if that’s what you are most contented with that’s fine by me.” He nudged the Brit’s elbow with his own and sent a wink his way. “But hey, if you ever change your mind I’ll be glad to abide.”

Edd opened his mouth to reply when the bartender returned with their drinks in hand. Reagan immediately downed his drink in one swig and slammed the glass back on the table. “Another.” He licked his lips clean.

Edd chuckled quietly in amusement. Reagan sure likes his beer. He thought, taking sip of cola. He churned the dark beverage in his glass, his smile faltering. He’s a bit like Tom, in a way. His heart twisted with a sudden and terrible ache in his chest.

Thoughts of earlier events that day returned to the front page of his mind, and they soured any semblance of good humor he had. Edd sighed.

“Why the long face, Eddie?” Reagan asked, snapping Edd out of his thoughts. “You look as if you got plenty in your mind.”

“You have no idea.” The brunet mused bitterly.

“Would you like to share with moi?” Reagan offered, tapping one of his fingers against the marble table in a rhythmic fashion.

Edd bit the inside of his lips unsurely. Although they would tend to tap into heavier subjects once in a while; for the most part, these nightly outings served solely as a good distraction. However, its not like he has anyone else to talk to about these things. Matt is too gullible and dim-witted to comprehend what Edd’s main issue is. Reagan is an outsider who could perhaps have a better angle at things.

“Where to even begin?” He breathed out tiredly and rubbed his own face.

Through the gap between his fingers, he saw a glass of beer slide across the counter and stop perfectly in front of him. Edd blinked and glanced at the Irishman sitting by his side. Reagan nodded toward the beverage encouragingly. “Let’s start with loosening up a little bit.”

Edd raised an eyebrow skeptically. Again; he has had beer before, and although he didn’t dislike it was far from being one of his favorites drinks. However, the blond’s offer still enticed him. Surely one glass won’t harm anyone?

Making his mind up, Edd grabbed the glass determinably and tipped back his head and started to consume the bitter beverage.

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” Reagan chanted beside him, edging him on until Edd drank the entire glass. “Wooo!”

The brunet wiped away the foam from his face with the back of his coat’s sleeve, clicking his tongue to taste the remnants of beer in his mouth. Edd sighed. “It’s just… some stupid neighbors moved into my building today.”

Reagan raised an eyebrow, his attention peaked with interest. “Oh? What kind of neighbors?” He questioned. “The lousy type? Party animals? Junkies? The lewd type?”

A shiver of disgust rippled down Edd’s spine at the thought and he cringed. There’s no way in hell he is going to keep the imagery in his head for the reminder of the night. He gestured the bartender forward and ordered a beer for himself. Just in case.

“No. It’s nothing like that.” He explained. “My friends and I used to be neighbors with them before. But we weren’t exactly in friendly terms back then.”

“Rivals eh? Sounds fun.” The Irishman bent forward to listen closely. This information may prove useful, after all.

“Not really.” Edd muttered. “But the thing is…” How can he explain this next part without going into much depth? “There was a gas leak in both of our houses and they blew up.” He half-lied. He wasn’t going to admit the true events of that day to anyone outside of that incident. There were too many risks, and the memory still hurt. “We haven’t seen each other since that day, and now that we are neighbors again I have no idea what our current stand is.”

“Why would it have changed at all since then?” Reagan narrowed his eyes.

Edd flinched. He took a sip of his cola to calm his nerves, but dread was still eating away at him. Had he known his true nature then, Edd would’ve never allow him to return. “Because the gas leak was kind of my fault.” He gulped. “And one of my neighbors – there were three of them then – died that day because of it.”

He waited for a shocked gasp to reach his ears. Instead, Reagan stared steadily back at him and sort of nodded in understanding. “Awkward.” He took a sip of his beer.

Edd looked at him in disbelief. “Woah, you are taking this surprisingly well all things considered.” He pointed out.

“Meh.” Reagan shrugged unimpressed. “Accidents tend to happen all the time. I’ve kind of grown used to it by now, and so nothing really fazes me anymore.”

Truth be told, Reagan knows Edd just lied to his face. The guarded and uncertain tone in the Brit’s voice gave him away. Although he was curious to learn what really happened, Reagan wasn’t about to push his luck just yet. He needs to establish a stronger bond with his target before he can get to the juicy, tragic bits and use them against him. Though he assumes it has something to do with the charred ruins where he first made contact with the brunet.

Still, he’ll let that obvious little lie slide. For now.

“Well, anyway.” Reagan went on as normal. “Can’t say that I blame you for feeling the way that you do with them back in your life.” He grinned inwardly. “What about your friends, what do they think of the situation?”

The reaction he wanted was instantaneous. Although Edd didn’t outright flinch, Reagan did feel him tense up next to him, and it took everything he had in him to keep down the Cheshire-grin that threatened to stretch out across his face.

Edd’s breath wavered and he tried to steady himself. “Matt knew they were moving in.” In Tom’s apartment. He did not dare complete the sentence out loud.

“And he didn’t even tell you?” Reagan exclaimed, pretending to be shocked.

The Brit mentioned his ginger-haired companion to him before, and from what he heard so far, this Matt fellow wasn’t going to be a threat to his goals. But he needed to sever that bond in order to make Edd more susceptible to his manipulation. He doesn’t have to break them apart completely; but where was the fun in that?

Reagan shot him a sympathetic glance. “He doesn’t sound like much of a friend to me.” He observed. “I mean, what kind of friends keep things from each other?”

Edd felt a tinge of defensiveness at the Irishman’s words. After all, Reagan doesn’t really know Matt.

“He’s a great friend.” He responded. “But… well, things haven’t been the same between us since-” He bit down on his own tongue, holding the words before they could get out.

“Since?” Reagan prompted curiously.

Edd shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Could he really say something so heavy and personal to Reagan? The Irishman has certainly been a great deal of fun over these past few weeks; helping him move from his grief and let him forget his problems. But Edd wasn’t quite confident in entrusting Reagan with this information yet.

But I promised I would get over and move on. He recalled. If I can’t even say this out loud, am I doing any progress at all?

Edd tensed, his hands clenching into fists. He knew what he wanted to say, but the words seemed stuck in his throat like a hard piece of candy, and were just as difficult to dislodge.

“Before our friend died.” He admitted at last, thinking longingly of the time when he, Matt, and Tom went in all kinds of crazy adventures together. The tension in his shoulders relaxed as he let go of the long-held grief.

The blond man’s expression fell, and he cast his gaze to the ground. “Oh. I’m… sorry to hear.” He murmured sympathetically. “I didn’t mean to – I mean, you don’t have to-”

“It’s fine.” Edd cut him off. “It’s been a few months since, but I guess neither of us really got over it.”

The Irishman was silent for a while, his green eyes staring at the brunet with a calculating gaze; whilst concealing his true face inside. Wonder how he would react if he learned that I’m the one behind his freaky friend’s death? He mused with mirth. As fun as the idea would be, Reagan can’t let him know that dirty little secret just yet. He needs Edd to join the Red Army first, or he would never get that promotion. Maybe a few years from now, when we’re both deep into the global domination schemes, I could tell him. Ha. He’ll probably laugh when all is said and done.

Recomposing himself, Reagan cleared his throat to stifle the bout of giggles that bubbled inside of him. “Anyways, about the neighbors…” He continued from where the main topic left off. “I understand how weird this situation is, but do try to play it cool and keep a low profile.” Edd turned to him, listening to his advice intently. “I mean, why should you have to feel guilty for what happened? It’s not like you intended to kill the poor guy!”

“Of course not!” Edd snapped. Then he paused, his humor deflating as he recalled encounter with Eduardo earlier. “When I crossed paths with them today, they weren’t hostile toward me. They were… okay? I guess? But the whole thing just felt weird to me, and I have no idea what it means for our stances with each other.”

Reagan contemplated for a second, his lips pursed. “Do you reckon that maybe they know what happened to your friend?” He asked. “And because of that they think you are on equal ground? Like a: “now you know how I felt back then” kind of deal?”

Edd tensed. The Irishman’s words filled him with apprehension. Could Reagan be right? Eduardo does seem like the type of person who would find justice in such situation. But surely even Eduardo wouldn’t find enjoyment in this? Edd shook the thought away. “I d-don’t know.” He stammered. “Everything’s so confusing at the moment.”

Reagan chugged down his third glass of beer. “Don’t sweat it, buddy.” He gestured toward the untouched beer Edd had ordered a while ago. “Just tip back your head and drink your worries away. You seriously need to relax.”

The Brit glanced at his drink then back to his companion. “God, I’m so sorry.” A flash of guilt flared up inside of him. “We came out here to have fun and I spoiled the whole evening by rambling about my problems.”

He was about to apologize again when a finger came up to his lips and shushed him. “Less talking, and more drinking.” Reagan told him playfully stern.

They clinked their drinks together, sat back, and drank their fill of the bitter beverage. By the time he got all of it down, Edd was feeling tipsy and he swayed a little from side to side.

“By the way, you never quite told me what your job actually is.” The brunet pointed out, his words slurred.

“I haven’t?” Reagan put his elbow on the table and leaned against his hand, looking at the Brit though half-lidded eyes as the alcohol started to take effect. “I am an entertainer. I thought that much was obvious by now.”

“Oh! Like a comedian or a magician?” Edd asked, taking a sip of his cola next to balance out the alcohol in his system.

Reagan grinned slyly. “Not that type of entertainment, silly Eddie. I mean that I am a stripper.” His smile grew wider as Edd choked and spat out his drink. He burst into a fit of laughter and slammed his hand repeatedly on the counter. “Haha! Oh man, you should’ve seen the look on your face! Haha!” He wiped away a stray tear from his eyes.

“H-ha- haha yeah.” Edd laughed weakly whilst coughing. He could feel his throat burn badly from the intensity of choking on soda. He beat his own chest a couple of times to clear the airways. “G-good one.”

Reagan’s laughter died away. “But seriously though, I can’t tell you what it is.” He told the brunet. “I would if it were up to me, but since it is kind of a work policy not to reveal it out in public, I can’t.”

“Woah, are you a secret agent of some kind?”

“Can’t quite answer that either – It goes against the company’s policy, remember?” Reagan shrugged and laughed, teasing the Brit further.

They went back to drinking and chatting merrily. Reagan kept urging Edd to drink more and more, making the brunet relax and put down the sealed tight, steel walls he surrounded himself in. The Irishman payed very close attention to Edd’s ramblings about his life; especially the part concerning his friends and his fears of losing every single person he ever cared about, and how he won’t be able to stand if anything happened to the ginger doofus.

All that vital information Reagan saved away for later reference.

#Tomtord #eddsworld #my little test subject #MLTS #ew tom #ew tord #angst #mlts Reagan

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nyacat39 · 8 years ago

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Things Forgotten Chapter 2

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After seeing a Dead body, Ray and her friends try to cope with what they had seen... while something from Ray’s past bubbles to the surface.

Rachel was frozen on the spot, her friend’s voices seemed distant and muffled as she stared at the body. The only thing she could hear was the pounding of her heart in her ears. She could barely registered anything that she was doing either. She was vaguely aware of walking towards the body.

“Rachel!” the sound of her name and someone shaking her snapped her out of it and the blonde was finally aware of what she was doing. She saw her fingers pressed against the body’s neck as if checking for a pulse, her other hand seemed to have been inches away from her own hand bag… What had she been doing?

“What the hell Rachel?” Glancing over and finally registering the voice in her head, Rachel had noticed that it was Katie who had been the one to run over to her side. She then looked back down at her hand and almost instantly the words just seemed to come out.

“... I was... making sure if they were really dead or not… just in case an ambulance was needed.”

“Why?!” Katie exclaimed, though Rachel thought that she had answered that already… she actually wasn’t even sure herself why that seemed to be her first reaction… it was also then she started noticing Eric’s panicked ramblings in the background and Nick trying to tell the police exactly where they were… While Barry seemed to be getting closer to giving into his urge to punch Eric just to get him to shut up.

“....”

“Fucking hell. You see a dead body and your first reaction is to go up and get your fingerprints on it…” Katie sighed as she rubbed a hand down the side of her face. Rachel remained silent, staring down at the body before finally noticing something.

“... Why doesn’t the shirt have any holes?”

“What?”

“Their shirt…. Shouldn’t it… have holes in it?”

Katie looked on in concern for her friend before noticing the same thing. The person had clearly bled to death and there were a few darker areas on the shirt showing much more blood coating the area… but from the fact that the shirt didn’t even have a single hole to show a bullet wound or even a knife wound was… off.

“Guys the police are on their way now… Eric calm down already!” Nick called to them, only to quickly snap at his panicking friend.

“WHY?! There’s a dead body! The sun is still out! No police are even here! For all we know the killer could still be here! We might as well-” Eric shouted, having a major panic attack until Barry grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him just a little.

“Calm down for Pete’s sake!”

It was one of these times the pink haired boy’s friends were glad that he had a strict policy of “No punching or Hurting friends” otherwise Eric would have a broken nose… or even a lost tooth or two. Though at the moment… Rachel was more lost in her own mind with questions… yet no answers. Despite Katie being right by her side… it almost felt like she wasn’t really there. The blond felt like she should be feeling something like the others.

Fear, shock, disbelief… but really she didn’t feel anything.

Is… that why I feel alone at the moment? No… that’s not it… the blond haired girl thought to herself, staring at the bloody body. Her eyes going darker as if the last bit of life in them was snuffed out as they moved away from the body and into the shadows of the alley.

Someone is watching me.

….

The rest of the wait was spent with unease as the small group was finally able to leave off the hook seeing as they only found the body and nothing else… though Rachel did have to tell them about checking for the pulse so they could rule out her fingerprints.

There was a tension that was strong though as none of them had seen a murdered body before… though Rachel couldn’t help but feel like that wasn’t true. That feeling was practically killing her with confusion.

“... Alright someone’s gotta say it,” Barry finally spoke up while throwing his hands in the air and wanting to get rid of the tension. “That was the most horrifying thing that’s happened since the New Year's incident two years ago.”

“... Y-Yeah you know what… it kinda was,” Katie stammered, her right arm across her body and rubbing her left. A silence followed soon after once again enveloping the group in that uncomfortable embrace. The obvious attempt to try and get people to talk and move on from the incident… didn’t really work.

“... Hey Nick…” Rachel spoke up, catching more than just the black haired boy’s attention.

“What?”

“.... Um…. Are you… still going to go for your law degree?” Rachel questioned. Before Nick could answer Eric butted in, his face still pale.

“C-Can we please avoid anything involving this topic?” Eric stammered, fear clear on his. Nick himself was quiet before he decided to speak up.

“Gotta finish what I started. Besides… I think I should head home anyways,” Nick sighed as they stopped at an intersection crosswalk. The Red light telling them to not walk was clear and no one made a move to push the button after Nick spoke.

“You don’t have to leave Nick!” Barry exclaimed.

“Barry’s right… Why...?” Katie asked clearly wanting to say more but the words not coming to her.

“I-I think I’m going t-to head home as well…” Eric stammered, his arms wrapped around himself with a shudder. Barry whipped his head over to the brunette male, but Katie seemed to keep her focus on Nick. The boy turned his brown eyes to meet with her hazel.

“... I’m going to be going to meet with Reverend Black… you know get somethings off my mind,” Nick explained. Barry shuddered at the mention of the priest, while the other three just simply nodded not knowing to much about the Reverend who their friend talked about sometimes.

“I still don’t get why you visit him…” Barry muttered, looking kinda uncomfortable as he spoke while Nick turned to Barry with a deadpanned expression on his face.

“For the last time Barry, his church isn’t haunted. You just had a prank pulled on you,” Nick stated while Barry shook his head.

“You didn’t see it Nick!”

“Um… haunted?” Rachel asked, confused just as much as both Eric and Katie as the two boys conversed.

“You never said anything about your church being haunted before Nick,” Katie pointed out, with a raised brow while Nick groaned.

“It’s not. Ghosts don’t exist after all.”

“Do so! Guy looked like he must have been killed!” Barry argued, Eric shivered again at this and promptly said a quick good bye… wanting to be as far away from the topic as possible as he left. Guy never could handle horror movies let alone horror stories… especially ones involving ghosts.

However the two girls were curious about it… after all Barry never did tell the story and it seemed to them that this would be a great way to get their minds off the murder victim.

….

Nick had actually parted ways with his friends a little while ago… he heard the story before and had even been there when the pink haired boy freaked out over it, he didn’t need to hear the bull shit again. He had called his sister to pick him up nearly twenty minutes ago and she hasn’t arrived at his location yet. Then again that’s to be expected he supposed… it was a nearly fifty minute drive if there wasn’t much traffic.

Sighing to himself he pulled out his phone and decided to play around on there, while walking around the nearest store to wait. He didn’t really pay much attention on what store it was, just that it was the closest to where his sister would be picking him up. About ten minutes had passed before he finally did… taking quick note he was in a bookstore of all places.

What are the odds? Nick mused to himself as he browsed the store shelves to see if he could find something to keep himself busy. Once he did find a book he found a place to sit close to a window and began flipping through the pages. Even as he did so his mind kept wandering back to what he had seen.

Nothing he was doing was getting the image of the murdered victim out of his head. Nick knew he had to try and get over it… be the responsible one and show the others that it’s not something to worry over. Sure he was a year younger than the others… but even then he’s always been the rational one.

How long have his hands been shaking now? Nick didn’t know, but now it was really messing up his reading to the point he just closed the book and looked out the window.

The building across the street didn’t seem as busy as it probably should have been… but that was just from an outside view after all. Unless one could get a better look inside no one would know for sure. From Nick’s view point, he could only see so much and the setting sun’s gaze didn’t help that much either.

It was a red sunset after all… and the image of the blood pool came back to the forefront of his mind. Nick closed his eyes tight at the thought.

Don’t think about it… stop thinking about it…

Ring Ring!

Jumping at the sound of his phone Nick quickly answered.

“H-Hello?” Nick cursed himself internally from stammering.

“Where the hell are you?” It was his sister… and she didn’t sound happy.

“The… The bookstore on the corner of 7th and Sycamore…”

“Jesus Christ…. Hurry up I don’t want to pay for parking.”

Nick didn’t say anything as he sighed. Hanging up he went to put the book he grabbed back and then left the store. Ignoring how some people had stared at his shirt for a bit as he hurried to his sister’s waiting red “death wagon” he and Barry called back when she first got it since it looked rather worn down.

“Aren’t you normally Mr. Punctual?” His sister ask. Her normally long wavy black hair was tied up into a braided ponytail, showing off her pierced ears, painted lips and annoyed brown eyes. Nick was quick to notice she was dressed rather nice like she was heading off to a party or a fancy restaurant. Not that she could completely afford going to a fancy restaurant or anything.

“Aren’t you to fancy for this junk heap?” he quipped as he slid into the passenger's seat. His sister just flipped him off.

“I was just getting ready for a date, you jerk.”

That would explain her attitude. Nick thought as he buckled up and his sister began driving.

“Did Barry do something stupid again to make you ask for a ride home?”

“Not this time Joan… I need a ride to Reverend Black’s. There’s something I need to talk to him about.”

Joan groaned but kept her eyes on the road.

“More like play chess all day… Couldn’t you have asked mom or dad to drive you? Or Hell even Barry?”

“They were busy. Plus you know Barry’s a wimp when it comes to the Reverend.”

“Of course…” She moved one hand from the wheel and turned the radio on, knowing this was going to be a long drive.

….

The trio had now made it back to the girl's apartment and were getting settled in. A silence had come over the small group all on the way there. Katie had sat on the sofa with Barry joining her and Rachel went to grab her second pill for the day and some water.

“... So what happened?” Barry asked, the silence making him uncomfortable again.

“... What?” Katie asked, quirking a brow at her pink haired friend.

“Between you and Eric… You guys were on much better terms before graduation.”

“... It’s nothing…”

“Bullshit.”

“Seriously Barry… it’s nothing. I thought we were going to talk about ghosts not this…”

“I’m not going to tell until Rachel’s ready… What happened?”

“Just drop it Barry,” Katie muttered as she avoided Barry’s gaze. Rachel came walking back in at that moment.

“... You don’t have to tell if you don’t want… Just… Know we’re here,” Rachel said as she took a seat on a chair for the small dining room table they had. Katie glanced up at the blond for a moment before giving off a grin.

“Hey, don’t worry alright? It’s nothing!” Still holding onto her smile, Katie turned to Barry. “What are we waiting for? It’s story time!”

Both Rachel and Barry didn’t seem convinced but Barry sighed and gave in. Katie has always been stubborn after all.

“Alright… It was four years ago, I was bored and I wanted to hang out with Nick. He said he was going to his church to visit with the Reverend. I remember asking him why if he didn’t actually believe in God. He just said that the old man didn’t treat him like he was just some kid… Pretty sure that wasn’t exactly how he said it but, probably pretty damn close. Anyways moving on, I followed him to this Gothic looking church, and DAMN does it look like a place out of a horror movie,” Barry laughed before shuddering. The two girls glanced at each other for a moment before Barry continued his story.

“So we went in and I’m pretty sure I was making a few jokes here and there about vampires or something when some of the people there, other priests I think, said hey and told us the Reverend was in the back. Well more like told Nick that and I just followed. Pretty sure I almost kicked the door open to the room because DAMN that would have been awesome… but Nick stopped me ya know.”

“Pretty sure you don’t want to get kicked out of a Church anyways,” Katie snickered, knowing full well that’s what would have happened following the door kicking. Rachel simply sighed at that.

“I think Nick said the same thing actually! Moving along, I was actually surprised that the old man was in a wheelchair! Don’t see many priests like that after all… guy also had a few almost healed scars if I remember correctly. I almost wanted to fight him but quickly realized how much of a dick move that would have been, so I punched myself instead. Not my best idea cuz I’m pretty sure the guy thinks I’m crazy now.”

“You? Crazy? I would have never guessed,” Katie fake gasped with Rachel trying to hold back a light giggle. Barry pulled off a large grin in response.

“I know right? Totally the sanest guy in the world right here! Eighth wonder of the world and all!” Barry laughed while Rachel had a pondering look.

“I don’t know… Nick might be more sane than you.” The hint of a smile is what really made Barry laugh.

“Alright Yeah he probably is… Where was I again?”

“Punching yourself in the face,” the blond provided earning her a thank you from her pink haired friend.

“So yeah, pretty sure he thinks I’m crazy now. So a little later Nick and the guy sit around this table… and set up a chess set. I got bored really quick and decided to explore the church. I found this really big Library and decided to see if it really had every Christian book known to man there or not. I found a Syfy series on the tenth book I pulled out. I wanted to know how many other books there were that weren’t speaking about God so I got to work…. I accidently knocked over a vase in my search and heard footsteps coming my way. I panicked and grabbed the closest book and opened it at random.”

“Good job Barry,” Katie clapped once before noticing the uncomfortable look Barry had and stopped as she was halfway to her second clap. The brunette glanced over to the blond, who had a worried look as she leaned in a little more.

“I had heard... A man’s voice. ‘Ah, excuse me. I heard something break in here... Did you break something?’ he asked me… He sounded polite but I shrugged it off and kept pretending to read. ‘Nope, just reading.’ I heard the guy laugh a little… it was kinda creepy. ‘An upsidedown dictionary?’ God was I embarrassed at that. I put the book down… only to actually see the guy. The guy looked like some kinda doctor covered in blood… he had… he had slashes on his clothes… but his eyes… God those eyes freaked me out! W-When he saw my eyes… h-he had this creepy ass smile before vanishing. I had never run from anything as fast as I did then.”

Barry had pulled his knees up to his chest by this point. Neither girl had ever seen Barry this shaken up before, nor the spark of fear that clouded his blue eyes. The closest they had ever seen that type of fear was earlier that day… and even then it wasn’t as much as he had now. Rachel got up and moved to the other side of Barry. Both she and Katie placed a comforting hand on each of Barry’s shoulders and felt him trembling.

“... I told Nick about it but… he didn’t believe me. I… I had nightmares for weeks… each one featured the bloody doctor with that creepy smile… I did try going back to the church on my own once but... I looked through one of the windows… and I swear I saw him again. I never went back… and no force in the world will get me to even go back to the STREET there.”

Barry felt his own heart pounding in his chest just talking about this. He swore the girls could hear it as well with how loud it sounded.

I guess… that would explain his freakouts at ghost movies. But… why can’t I shake this uneasy feeling that… something seemed familiar? Rachel thought to herself, just as Katie pulled Barry into a full on hug. The blond felt a headache beginning as she tried to think about what felt so familiar…

He mentioned the eyes… something about the eyes that truly terrified him… eyes… bloody doctor…! Rachel’s eyes widened as a sudden sharp pain shot through her head. Green and Red, a twisted smile, eyes… so many eyes.

“Rachel… your peepers are truly the most beautiful.”

“Ah how I long to live by those peepers forever!”

“Rachel… How about I take YOUR peepers!”

“-chel…?”

“They’re waiting for you… in hell!”

“Rachel?”

“Oh I was just catching him up to speed… he knows everything now!”

“RACHEL!!”

Katie and Barry both quickly got up and over to Rachel as she fell forward, her eyes fogged and unseeing as she fell. Barry being the closest was able to hoist her up and see the unseeing look in her eyes.

“.....” she seemed to mumble something quietly before her eyes closed and she went completely limp, shocking both her friends.

“W-Was that one of her blackouts?” Barry questioned, his already pounding heart not slowing down thanks to his worry. He had never really seen one of Rachel’s infamous “blackouts” but he knew both Katie and Nick had seen enough of them to know. However Katie shook her head, her own eyes wide.

“I-It was similar… b-but she’s never passed out like that before!”

The two were to preoccupied with their panic neither of them completely thought about the words she mumbled… even though only Barry heard them due to his close proximity, his mind wasn’t cognitive enough to think much on the name she had muttered.

Doctor Danny.

….

Nick stepped out of the car, giving a quick thanks to his sister before turning to the large gothic church. His family visited the church itself every Sunday since he was a baby, though now that he and his sister were older they didn’t have to be dragged to the sermons every time anymore. However Nick still went, not for the sermons, but to talk to the Reverend of the building.

Reverend Black had always been a kind of mystery to the church itself. The black haired boy remembered a time a little more than six years ago when the wheelchair bound priest was able to walk around. He had a slightly more intimidating aura to him that prevented the boy from ever wanting to get close to the man. Not to mention he would disappear for a few weeks at a time back then with little information on when he would be back.

After the man’s accident though… it was almost like he was a different person. He wasn’t as intimidating now, but he still didn’t seem to get to close to others until the day the other priests had had enough of Nick asking so many questions about God. The injured man had wheeled over to him and listened to his questions… and answered them in a very surprising fashion.

“...I’d like to believe God is as flawed as any human.” was the main line that had surprised Nick, and how he seemed to be open to the different interpretations of God that existed. Nick actually found that he enjoyed talking with the old man… an old man who didn’t completely treat him like a kid and actually listened to him.

After about two or three weeks, the Reverend had brought him to a back room that had a bunch of board games the church had for kids. He did ask him if he knew how to play chess… to which Nick responded with a negative. The rest was kind of set in stone as every time he visited they would do a round or two of chess and talk. Sometimes Nick would even ask for advice and he would usually get it… mostly in riddles which Nick didn’t mind at all. Kept him thinking and “Using that big brain of his” as Barry would put it.

Taking a slow breath Nick went right into the church and wasn’t really surprised to see a few of the people who normally worked there, leaving for the day. The only one who ever really stayed was Reverend Black. More likely than not because he actually had a home there… or at least close by. Nick was never really sure which one it was.

Nick knew of a few places where one would normally find the Reverend. One was the main area where the sermons would be held on Sundays. Another was the Library, this was one of the more common places to find the old man usually. His office was an option, though surprisingly he’s not seen as often in that area as he is the main two. Finally was the small building out in the back of the church. No one was really allowed in there often except for funerals… and even then only a few people ever go in, the main one being the Reverend himself. No one really knows what the building’s truly for thou.

Not seeing the man in the main area, Nick wandered down the halls to find the door to the Library. That was one of the other areas he could think of where the Reverend was. The Library itself wasn’t that big but it was sizeable enough for at least thirty people to all sit in there and enjoy the silence. There was no sign that the person Nick was looking for was in there, so he sighed and left the room.

It took him a few more minutes to walk to the Reverend’s office. It wasn’t that spectacular looking, with a simple desk, a bookshelf on the far left corner that had few books and more decorations… but no pictures. The Reverend never had pictures in his office, none of himself, none of his family, nor his friends… not even decorative photos were on the walls. There were a few potted plants here and there, but the biggest thing he had were a few candle stands around the walls. Still no sign of the Reverend though...

“Nicolas… You’re here rather late don’t you think?” Nick jumped, but let out a sigh from the familiar voice. He moved away from the doorway and let the older man wheel himself in. The wheels surprisingly silent on the wooden floor.

“I… I just needed to talk something out…” Nick started not looking towards the older man at all. He heard the tell tale sigh from the Reverend.

“Yet you come here to a place of a God you believe not. Do you not have peers to converse with?” Nick could feel the older man’s gaze on him. This was a common question by this point whenever the black haired boy came by more than twice a week.

“... They… They know what it is already… I… just need someone who doesn’t know… to tell,” Nick answered, his voice sounding like he was close to breaking. The shivering came back and he wanted to curse himself for letting himself seem so weak.

“... Very well then.”

Nick turned his head back to the man. The serious look on his angled face, his slicked back greying hair showing it off well. The scars from the accident he was once in were now faded and barely noticeable from the long purple coat he usually wore as well as his well dressed suit. His clear colored eyes, ones that many had once mistook for as being blind, staring right at him.

“Tell me what is troubling you, Nicolas.”

…

Katie paced across the floor to her apartment. Rachel had been taken back into her room leaving both her and Barry alone with their thoughts and worries.

“M-Maybe we should have called an ambulance…” Katie stammered, worry coming to the forefront of her mind. Barry shook his head.

“S-She’s going to be fine… she’s… she’s had blackouts before…” Barry responded, nerves all on end.

“She’s never fainted from one Barry!”

“Well maybe… maybe she did something different?”

“What could she have possibly…!” Katie started before realizing something. The brunette stopped her pacing and hurried into Rachel’s room. She saw her friend was still passed out, her expression making it seem like she was having some kind of nightmare.

Frowning at this Katie wished she knew some way to get rid of those nightmares… if only to help her friend. However she shook this off and went back to her mission. Strolling over to Rachel’s bedside table she grabbed the orange pill bottles and shook each one before finding the one with the pills in it. Looking over it along with one of the empty ones… she noticed there was a slight difference between the current medication and the old one, along with the instructions.

Taking that along with the empty ones to be thrown away Katie cast one last concerned glance over to her friend, before leaving the room.

Acquired Rachel’s Pills.

“... She got a new medication last month…” Katie said as she walked back to the confused Barry, holding out the medication she took.

“Okay, so what?”

“She’s had more blackouts since then, that’s why!”

….

The rain was falling once again. Rachel didn’t recognize where she was at all. She was clearly on a sidewalk in a city… but why did she have this uneasy feeling in her gut? The people’s faces that passed her by seemed blurred or were covered by hoods or umbrellas. Some seemed like they were talking but she couldn’t hear it… only the sound of the rain falling.

What’s… going on? Where… where am I? Rachel thought, wanting to hurry out of there and find a way home… but something seemed to be stopping her. Or rather it was like her body wasn’t responding to her.

“Ray hurry up would ya,” her head turned to the voice to what seemed to be a man in a hoodie… his face was covered in shadows and voice was distorted. He seemed to tower over her as she only made it up to the middle of his chest in height. She felt his hand grab her wrist and he quickly started to drag her.

“What’s wrong?” the words slipped out of her mouth. That wasn’t what she wanted to say at all… she wanted to know what the hell was going on… and why she felt so comfortable with this guy. She wouldn’t see his face but she could tell he was angry… and scared?

“Are you a fucking idiot? Move your ass and run!”

Something was very wrong… she felt her own fear rising of it’s own accord. What’s going on? Why are we running?

Who is this guy…?

That’s when she heard sirens going off. Her own eyes widened at the sound while the man she was with swore.

“Take the left quick!” she exclaimed.

“Don’t gotta tell me twice!” They turned quickly down an alleyway and kept running. For some reason she felt like something was going to go wrong… very wrong...

Rachel opened her eyes, confused on where she was and how she got there… and why she felt like she was in a cold sweat. Looking down at herself she saw that she wasn’t dressed for bed… and wasn’t under her own covers for that matter. Glancing over to her bedside table she saw the time was 9:56 pm… and her pill bottles were gone.

Maybe… I cleaned up?... but… why did I sleep in so late? Confused she got up carefully and left her room. Outside the room in the living room there was Katie and Barry.

“... Alright I’ll… I’ll see what I can do,” Barry spoke. Rachel watched as Katie handed something to the pink haired boy, who put the item in his pocket.

“... Um…” She spoke up, causing both her friends to look over in her direction in surprise. Katie was on her immediately as the blonde found herself pulled into a tight hug.

“You okay? Everything alright? Do you remember what today’s Date is?” Katie questioned after pulling out of the hug, her hands still on Rachel’s shoulders. Lifeless blue eyes stared with confusion into concerned hazel.

“I’m fine… It’s Saturday the… XX of XXX right?” Katie sighed in relief at her answer… only to blink at Rachel’s next question.

“... Why is Barry’s hair pink?”

#angels of death #angel of slaughter #satsuriku no tenshi #rachel gardner #fanfiction #things forgotten au #angel of slaughter ray

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dubujeongguk · 8 years ago

Text

three minutes

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: fluff

length: 5k words, oneshot

summary: in which your friend hoseok is great in every way possible and only ever single for short periods of time, unfortunately for you.

Hoseok is a lot of things. He’s hilarious, beautiful, kind, compassionate, hard working and talented, if you could say so yourself. But if his name and any form of compliment slipped out of anyone’s mouth in the same sentence, he’d be nothing but humble; cheeks pinking and words of denial muttered under his breath. Although, everyone knew that deep down, he knows that it's all true. Something you’d say Hoseok didn’t know he was, though?

Your crush.

He’s hilarious, beautiful, kind, compassionate, hard working, talented and quite possibly the love of your life. And god help you, if he did know.-

It’s a bright and early Friday morning that sounds like robins singing from the trees and breakfast sizzling on the frying pan. You wake up to the sound of your alarm that is your favourite song at the moment and you grumble, literally rolling out of bed, your hair disheveled. You quickly tap on the phone’s screen before setting it down to carry out your morning routine.

As if on cue, your phone vibrates numerous times. Jin, you roll your eyes as you leave it to vibrate for what seems like forever.

Your best friend was talented. He could sing, act and could pass as a good dancer if you looked from afar. His fourth talent? “Double” texting (that was more like twenty-texting in his case).

Jin: hey Jin: are u awake Jin: ??????? Jin: why aren’t u replying to my texts Jin: ???????????//////// is this Jin: what 6? 7? Years of friendship means? Jin: not replying to tests Jin: texts* Jin: lmao tests Jin: ????????? I need to talk about something important Jin: ok fuck u I’ll ask someone else to come with me to Namjoon’s party Jin: binch

By the time you checked your phone, you were in front of your locker, putting your binders away and being glared at your by supposed mature, senior student best friend.

“All I’m asking is that you send your messages in sentences and that you don’t break up every word and send them as an individual text,” you said plainly, causing Jin glare at you even harder. “Anyways, why is Namjoon throwing a party?”

“Taehyung and Jimin somehow convinced him that people throw really late parties for Easter,” Jin replies, walking you to your class.

“A party for the lord that involves alcohol and possibly inappropriate dancing?” you ask, incredulously.

“…Yes.”

“…Nearly two months after Easter?”

“Okay listen, Namjoon is whipped for those kids,” Jin sighs in exasperation.

You shake your head and laugh at the idea. Surely there’s no way Namjoon could back out of this now that word has spread. There hasn’t been one party that Namjoon has thrown that wasn’t influenced by Taehyung, Jimin or Jungkook. The other thing that his parties had in common was that they didn’t involve you. Ever.

You were never a party animal and you pretty sure that you’d never become one. You didn’t drink, let alone grind at your school’s semi formal. Despite being invited to every single party, not once have you ever actually gone to one. “No thanks,” you reply curtly, pressing your lips together. “You know I don’t party, so I don’t know why this time’s any different,” you sigh, hanging outside your classroom’s door

“Morning,” you hear a voice behind you say, causing you to blush. That bright and welcoming voice could only belong to one person.

“Morning Hobi,” Jin greets back as you curse under your breath, turning around to face the man that God spent extra time in creating.

“Good morning,” you smile at your classmate, cheeks still tinted.

It wasn’t like you were so infatuated with him that you couldn’t hold a proper conversation. It was never like that; not once in the three years that you’ve liked him. It was difficult not holding a proper conversation with someone like him. Not to mention the fact that he was one of your closest friends.

But no matter who it was, Hoseok always made sure they were comfortable around him. He was like a grocery store’s automatic doors, as strange as it sounds; open and inviting.

“Ah sorry, I’d love to chat but I need to talk to the teacher,” Hoseok laughs, ruffling his brown hair. “Can I squeeze through?”

The two of you nod and allow him to pass, standing beside the door now.

“This difference is that Hoseok is going,” Jin whispers, smirking slightly, “as a single young man.”

The bell rings and Jin is suddenly running off into the distance, shouting something along the lines of see you at lunch. Sighing, you take your seat by the window that is conveniently right beside Hoseok.

A single Hoseok was rare and for good reason, seeing how beautiful he was, inside and out. The mere thought of having a chance with him made you red all over again. You slammed your face down on your desk and whined.

“You okay?” Hoseok asks, poking at your cheek and smiling.

You whined louder.

Today was going to be a long day.

It’s Tuesday evening and you have two multi-unit tests scheduled for Thursday. You’re beyond stressed and a part of you wants to give up, both on life and cramming. That is, until a certain someone comes to disturb you.

“Studying hard or hardly studying?” you hear Hoseok’s voice along with the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.

“Studying hard until you came,” you giggle, flipping to the next page of your book. “What are you doing in the library?”

“To see you,” Hoseok winks, nudging your side. You scoff and turn away, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling like an idiot. “Just kidding, I have a test tomorrow and my family was being way too loud.”

“And sitting with me will increase your productivity?” you raise a brow.

“Maybe,” Hoseok grins, showing off his pearly whites.

It doesn’t even take an hour until you’ve closed your books and abandoned all hope of learning. You somehow end up sharing a pair of earphones with Hoseok as you stream a horror movie on your laptop (the same one that you intended to use to create a study guide for an upcoming test).

You aren’t sure whose idea it was to do this, but you don’t think you care anymore if it meant spending time with your crush. Especially when you two were gripping each other’s hands so tightly, fearing that monsters would jump out of the screen.

By the end of the movie, you’re clinging onto each other in an involuntarily hug, cheeks practically pressed against each other’s. The end credits roll and it occurs to you just how intimate the two of you are. You clumsily peel yourself from the boy and mumble something about going home, pulling the earphone out.

Hoseok clears his throat and quickly collects himself, as if he wasn’t internally screaming thirty minutes ago. “Want me to walk you home?” he offers, beginning to stuff his things in his bag. “I mean, it’s getting dark out and I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

In your three or so years of friendship, this was the first time he ever offered to walk you home by himself. There were many instances when Jin walked you home, and even Taehyung and Jimin from time to time, but Hoseok was a first.

It’s the same old kind and caring Hoseok, you tell yourself. Always helping others. Nothing worth getting emotional about. He would do the same for anyone else.

“If it’s no trouble, I guess,” you grin, slipping on your backpack.

The two of you walk out of the library with his arm resting on top of your head and his pace slowing to match yours; just as he always has.

He’d do the same for anyone else, but that didn’t mean you felt any less self conscious.

“He’s never walked any girl home that he wasn’t interested in,” Jimin answers your question the following day, taking a bite of his sweet bun.

“Are you sure?” you ask again, grabbing the bun from his hands. “Isn’t he like? Mr. Nicest Guy on Earth who treats everyone like royalty?”

Jimin lets out a whine and snatches his lunch back. “I’m pretty sure. I only ever recall him walking home his girlfriends.”

You blink at Jimin in utter confusion, causing Taehyung and Seokjin to laugh in response. The gears in your brain were whirring in attempt to process what your friend just said. You weren’t a girl of interest to Hoseok. Sure, he had some interest in you, due to your status as close friends, but definitely not in that way. You were overcomplicating things and you knew it.

“Why do you want to know who Hoseok walks home anyways?” Jungkook muses, scratching his head dramatically. The tone of his voice seemed to be laced with more sarcasm than curiosity.

Seokjin shoots you a knowing smile while Taehyung and Jimin snicker beside him. You simply pout your lips in response and cross your arms.

“Yeah, why do you want to know who Hoseok walks home?” Taehyung teases, poking your side.

“Who wants to know what about Hoseok?” the man himself inquires, placing a carton of strawberry milk in front of you. You hide your face with your hair as he pulls up a seat beside you, Namjoon and Yoongi following behind.

You turn away from him and grumble. “Nobody wants to know anything about you!” you hiss, fed up with everybody (including yourself). Picking up your bag, you stomp away in embarrassment in attempt to find a place to think.

There’s a hint of confusion and hurt written on Hoseok’s face when you leave the cafeteria without accepting his tiny act of kindness. “I thought you guys said she likes strawberry milk,” he grimaces.

Namjoon can’t help but to crack up at your outburst and Hoseok’s defeated posture.

“Could they be any more obvious?” Yoongi complains to no one in particular, propping a hand underneath his chin.

“You know what I hate? Math,” Jungkook complains loudly, as you all walk to your regular snack shop. “And English and science and social studies and…”

“So you hate school?” Yoongi interjects, browsing through his phone, tripping over a twig.

“No. I like P.E,” Jungkook retorts with a furrow of the brows, paying no mind to Yoongi’s condition.

Your friends talk over each other as they always do and it feels like you’re in the middle of busy down town. You walked slower than they did and for some freakish reason, you were the only girl in their circle of friends. Occasionally, they’d have conversations that you had no idea on how to contribute to. It’d be a lie if you didn’t feel excluded sometimes, but it couldn’t be helped.

This time you didn’t think minded as much, your thoughts elsewhere; that somewhere being the concept of having a chance with Hoseok. Jin’s suggestion at lunch resonated in your head. Just pull him aside at the party and confess,” he had said. “It’s almost the end of school and I’m not going to be here next year. It’ll just be you and Hoseok.” It all sounded ridiculous to you still.

“You seem kind of down today,” Hoseok comments, adjusting his steps to walk beside you, tilting his head to catch your eyes. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you smile. “Just thinking.”

“Want me to think with you?” he offers, throwing an arm around you and drawing you closer. Something he often did to remind you he was there if you needed him. “You seem stressed. What’s on your mind?”

You.

“I was just thinking about my assignments due after the weekend,” you lie through your teeth.

“I see,” he pouts a little. “I wish I could help you, but I’m swamped too,” he laughs. A sound that you’ve become very attached to.

“But speaking of weekends, are you going to Namjoon’s next Saturday?” Hoseok asks, catching your eyes.

“Maybe.”

You weren’t the only one who found Hoseok captivating. In fact, everyone did. This was common knowledge around the school. But when you heard your friend talk about him after class one day, you suddenly felt uncomfortable.

“He’s really cute,” your friend said to you. “I’d date him, no hesitation.”

“Well, I mean he’s been single for a couple of months. You definitely could,” another classmate added. “I was thinking about hooking up with him, to be honest.”

“Do you think he does hook ups though?”

“We’ll see about that,” the girls laughed.

A feeling of anxiety washed over you the more your peers spoke about him. It didn’t take long for you to excuse yourself from the conversation due to what you called a forgotten guidance counsellor appointment.

Hearing others talk about Hoseok made you feel unnecessarily jealous. He wasn’t your boyfriend. What right did you have to be angry at those girls?

None.

It still hurt though.

“I don’t think I want to go anymore,” you tell Jin over video call, burying your face in your favourite plush toy. It’s Friday night and the more you thought about the party and confessing to Hoseok, the less you wanted to go. There were only two ways things could go; either Hoseok accepts you or rejects you. But the very idea of him rejecting you made you dizzy.

Jin reprimands you in more ways than one, but you’re not sure if you can handle the heart ache if Hoseok doesn’t reciprocate.

“Listen, I know it’s overwhelming, but you have to do this eventually,” Jin softens, seeing you in distress over video call. “So what if he rejects you? At least you’ll know to stop wasting time and affection over him.”

“I hate you,” you mumbled into teddy bear, slouching in your chair.

You often hated Jin when he was right.

“Can you just throw on some jeans or something so we can go?” Jin groans loudly, laying in your bed as you rummage through your closet.

“Listen punk, this is my first high school party and I intend on looking good at it,” you hiss, taking out the tenth shirt of the night.

“You know we still have to pick up our three children right?” he reminds you, as he rolls off the mattress to help you look for an outfit. “Taehyung has texted me three times already asking where we are and I’ve told him three times that we have yet to leave your house.”

You let out a cry and drop to the floor. Parties weren’t your thing; they stressed you out and you knew that better than anyone. But how was it that you were stressed about a party before you even got there?

“Okay here,” Jin says, shoving a pair of cute shorts you forgot you had and a crop top into your lap. “Nothing says summer like showing some skin,” he deadpans, as he shoves you into your washroom. “If you come out and you don’t look as nice as I thought you would, just throw on my jacket and let’s go. Got it? Good.”

The moment you arrive at Namjoon’s castle of a house, the place is already half trashed with a good quarter of party goers wasted. Music is blaring in all directions and you aren’t sure how none of the neighbours have made a complaint yet. Or maybe it was because they were attending the party too. Who even knew at this point?

Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook practically jump out of the car and run off to god knows where once the car is parked, leaving you with your best friend. The scent of alcohol and perfume is heavy in the air and you’re pretty sure you want to go home, but you came here with a purpose and you refused to leave without fulfilling it.

“Come on, let’s go find your man,” Jin jokes, taking your hand and dragging you into Namjoon’s home. Your best friend holds onto your hand tight so you don’t get lost in the mess of people, as you whip your head around looking for him.

Unfortunately, Seokjin’s tight isn’t tight enough and suddenly you’re surrounded by mostly unfamiliar faces and some you rarely interact with, never mind the only one you wanted to see tonight.

“Hey,” someone greets you, pulling you in from the crowd for a quick side hug. You look up in shock, letting out a breath when you realize it’s just Namjoon. “You look good. How’s your first party going? I only throw the best.”

“It’s… going,” you reply, scrunching up your face. What Namjoon considered the best parties probably meant the worst experience for you. “I lost Jin and now I’m just kind of… here.”

Namjoon ruffles your hair and chuckles. “Go socialize,” he lightly chides. A voice calls for him from across the room and your conversation is cut short, much to your dismay. “Hold on,” he shouts back. “I have to deal with something right now but if you need anything, text me. At least try to have fun, okay?” Then he was off, ditching you in the corner of the living room.

To say that you didn’t try to have fun would be a lie, because you really did. But despite how hard you tried to mingle with drunkards and dance to the extremely loud EDM blasting from the speakers, you just couldn’t. You felt uncomfortable, lonely and far too sweaty for your liking. You were out of your element and soon enough, out of Namjoon’s home.

You rub your hands against your arms when the summer air hits and frown. You wonder just what on earth you would do now, especially considering the unlikelihood of finding your crush in a house of what felt like a thousand people. Perhaps you would confess another day—or maybe never, you think bitterly.

Sending Jin a quick text letting him know where you are and to not worry, you proceed to go wherever your legs would take you. Just as long as it wasn’t here.

“Hey,” someone calls out to you, not even a second after you reach the sidewalk. When you turn around, you find a slightly out of breath Hoseok in front of you, dazzling smile and all.

“Hey,” you blush, slightly embarrassed that you’ve been caught leaving the party before its climax and partially due to how gorgeous your crush looked.

“I’ve been looking for you all night,” he confesses, shoving his hands in the pockets of the black bomber jacket you liked so much.

“Why?” you laugh in response, timidly running your fingers through your hair.

“I figured you would want company at your first party. But I guess you don’t need me anymore,” he answers, noticing that you were trying to leave. “Are you alright?” Hoseok softens, concern apparent on his face.

“Yeah, just a little overwhelmed,” you bite your lip, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. “What about you though? You haven’t been looking for me all this time, right? What are you doing out here?”

“I guess I got overwhelmed too,” he admits, voice quieter than before. You aren’t sure how someone as extroverted as Hoseok could possibly get overwhelmed by a party, mostly since he’d been to them tonnes of times before. It doesn’t make sense but you don’t question it; not when the enthusiasm in his voice returns.

“Let’s leave,” Hoseok beams, catching you off guard.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he chuckles.

“Are you sure? Won’t your friends miss you? And like, basically every person in Joon’s house right now?

Hoseok bites back a smile and shakes his head. “Nope. And besides, there’ll be other parties. I’m not too sure about parties involving you though.”

“Where would we even go?” you mumble.

“Why don’t we find out?”

“Stop! You’re so ugly,” you screech, rolling around the grass from laughing so hard.

Hoseok doesn’t though. He continues to dash towards the huge oak tree the two of you have been laying under for the past hour, trying to run up it.

“You won’t do it, Hobi,” you shout, sitting up. “There’s absolutely no way that you can get up to that branch without using your hands.”

When Hoseok slips down for the third time, you can’t help but to crack up again. “Okay fine, maybe I can’t do it right now, but just watch! One day, I’ll climb this tree and you’ll rue the day you doubted me,” he argues, sitting back down beside you, leaning against the tree.

“Alright, jungle-man Hoseok,” you snicker. “I’ll be waiting until then.”

Night has fallen and the stars have begun to make their appearance on the stage that is the sky, joining the moon in its performance. The summer air is crisp and smells like a medley of flowers. It’s a little chillier than it was before so you pull your legs in and wrap your arms around them, trying to conserve whatever warmth you had before.

“Are you cold?” Hoseok questions, not even waiting for an answer to drape his jacket over your shoulders.

“I was,” you laugh. “Thanks.”

“No,” Hoseok stares at you and smiles. “Thank you.”

A part of you swears he was looking at your lips, even just for a second, but you rid your head of the thought. “For what?” you prompt.

“Tonight,” he grins, shifting his gaze to what lies above. “Whatever tonight was, I guess.”

You lean back and let out a contented sigh. “I feel the same way.”

“No, but like seriously. Thank you,” he continues, eyes still focussed on the sky. “Truthfully, I’ve been feeling really lousy lately with all this stress building up and I think today it just got too much. Too many people, too many conversations, too many fears, too many emotions, too many things to keep up with… I think I burned myself out from trying to stay so positive all the time,” he whispers, closing his eyes.

Hoseok’s smile finally falters for the first time tonight and what feels like the first time in forever. There was not even a trace of a smirk on his lips. Hoseok smiled a lot and that made you smile too. Everything he did subconsciously made you smile. Hence, with his face was void of any emotion at this moment, only having dark circles and shut eyes on display, it dawned on you.

Perhaps you were too blinded by your own happiness that you didn’t notice that his grins were just a forced tug of the lips. He feels lonely sometimes too; he faces hardships just like anybody else. He isn’t obligated to feel certain emotions for the sake of others.

Hoseok is a lot of things, but a robot is not one.

“Then don’t,” you blurt out. Your hands clench into fists from frustration; frustration that Hoseok refused to express. “Don’t burn yourself out. If you’re unhappy, say it. Do something about it. You don’t owe anything to anybody.”

“I’m sorry, I think I got too heated,” you grimace, relaxing your body. “I just… want you to be happy.” you trail off.

“Thank you,” Hoseok whispers, as he gives a small smile. A real one, you think.

It’s probably midnight by now but you don’t think you care. You thank Seokjin in your head and watch clouds float by, wondering if you would ever be blessed with another night like this. Everything felt perfect.

Hoseok hums your name and you immediately turn to face him, awkwardly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

Every time he said your name it felt like your heart would jump out of your chest. It was a foolish wish, but whenever you heard it come out of his mouth, you wanted him and only him to say it.

“Your friend confessed to me the other day,” Hoseok says all of a sudden, your face going pale. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot but it’s like, what have I got to lose right? What do you think?”

A silence falls between the two of you, save for the sound of your heart shattering resounding in your head. The park is calm as the moon shines down on the earth, all of the stars in the world shimmering from the distance. When you look at Hoseok, it looks as if a halo forms at the crown of his head as he’s basked in moonlight, eyes fixated on the glistening sky above.

Everything is beautiful and you hate it. It’s as if the heavens were reminding you of things you never forgot. No matter how close you are to perfection; you’ll never have it.

Hoseok would never be yours.

“They say that if you look someone in the eyes for three minutes, you’ll fall in love,” you mutter under your breath, drawing Hoseok’s attention away from the stars.

“Yeah?”

“So why is it that every time I look at you, it feels like my heart is breaking?”

The night is far too stunning for you to hurry back to Namjoon’s house; too wonderful for you to call your best friend in a shaky voice.

Tonight is too magnificent for you to have your heart broken, after finally believing you had a chance.

Life was too cruel sometimes.

It’s been a month since you last spoke to Hoseok. After the weekend of Namjoon’s party, you went ghost. You sat at the front of the class and left immediately when the bell rang. You avoided the cafeteria for the most part, opting to eat wherever Hoseok didn’t. You took the long way home and stayed in on weekends. Every time you made eye contact, or came within five feet of Hoseok, you ran.

The first week was the hardest. Wherever you went, he would go too. You didn’t want to hear what you already knew. It was bad enough hearing about his interest in your classmate. You didn’t need any more clarification. You didn’t need to be rejected twice.

By the second week, you took extra care in avoiding him. You walked exceptionally slow in hallways to check the surrounding area and practically sprinted, leaving the school building.

The third week went by quickly. The loneliness began to settle in, but you did whatever you could to keep your mind off of it. Loneliness was better than heartache. You hated the way you were acting, but it felt like the only thing you could do was cut off all contact with Hoseok.

Your only saving grace from total isolation was Seokjin.

“It’s been like three weeks, you can’t keep running away from him forever,” Jin said to you one night, standing over your bed.

“As long as I still have legs, no chance,” you protest, as you hide under your covers. “I’m not having this conversation.”

“Everyone’s been wondering where you’ve been,” he continues, rolling you out of your blanket cocoon.

“Let them.”

Seokjin huffs at your stubbornness. Despite anything he had to say, you would remain static. There was less than a month until summer vacation and that was all the time you needed to get over Hoseok. Your only issue was waiting for the time to arrive. Summer vacation meant two months to do whatever you could to get over Hoseok.

That’s what summer vacation was supposed to be, at least, until one fateful night, days before school ended.

“Where’s Jin?” you ask with a practically shaky voice, legs pulled close to your body as you sat on the grass. You felt a sense of déjà vu that you desperately wanted to shake off.

“Not here,” Hoseok answers apprehensively, looking at the ground.

“Oh I see,” you mutter, immediately standing up. You weren’t stupid; you knew what was happening. You thought it’d be easier seeing him after all that time, but it wasn’t. If anything, it hurt more. It made you wonder if all your efforts were futile. Your heart was wavering again.

Hoseok scrambles to hold you back, willing you to look at him. “No wait,” he pleads, retracting his hand from your arm. “Give me five minutes. No, I lied, ten. I just need ten minutes of your time. Please.”

Your brain was screaming at you to walk away, or to better yet, run, but none of that mattered if your feet were planted to the ground. “Okay,” you whisper. Hoseok gives you a tiny, appreciative smile; something that still makes your heart flutter, you notice.

“I’m sorry I thought I was being obvious about how I felt about you for the longest time,” he apologizes, clutching the back of his neck. “I guess not, huh? Here’s me being as clear as I can be then.”

Taken aback is an understatement of how you feel. Your voice is stuck in your throat, every word ready to spill out just on the tip of your tongue. You couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

“I like you. I’ve always liked you. And at this moment, I really, really like you and I hope you still mean the words you said that night at the party.”

“You mean when I told you it felt like my heart was breaking just looking at you?”

“No,” Hoseok shakes his head, taking your hands into his. “When you told me if you look someone in the eyes for three minutes, you’ll fall in love.”

It feels like your heart is about to explode, when he locks his eyes on yours and starts counting from one. There’s a certain glint in his eye that speaks volumes, but you can’t seem to understand with the sound of your heartbeat drowning everything out.

By sixty seconds, you’re sure your cheeks are on fire and that your hands have become clammy, but Hoseok never breaks his gaze or releases your hands. If anything, you swear his grip tightens. You want to look away but you’re frozen in place and lost in his everything.

By a hundred and twenty, Hoseok steps closer, intertwining your fingers with his. His voice is low and smooth and music to your ears. As if that wasn’t enough, you’re drowning in the scent of his cologne and his very existence itself.

“179… 180,” Hoseok whispers, resting his forehead against yours. “Do you love me again?”

It doesn’t take you another three minutes to kiss him.

“I don’t think I stopped.”

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