Andy's Apple Farm: Oneshots/short-stories

Best Buddies.

Disclaimer: I don't own Andy's Apple Farm (Video Game). I don't own the picture (cover). Or the song.

(qwertuno and SilentReadersMatter

(I imagine Claus as a stuck up rich guy cause I can. Wtf have I written?)

(Hope you enjoy.)

Andy felt a certain...affection for Claus. The clock was the most obnoxious, pretentious, richest out off all the avatars in their little neighbourhood.

Often rude, often stuck up toward Andy. He could even be considered a bully a times. His accent rich, a hint of know-it-all snootiness laying beneath the undertones during his speech.

"My dear fellow." Claus clutched his tea cup, yes, tea cup in his hands at the table. "You appear to be in deep thought, is everything alright?"

That damn accent irritated Andy for a reason he couldn't pinpoint. He put on his best smile and nodded to let Claus his answer.

"Don't know, really?"

"What's wrong? Is it Felix? He is most idiotic."

That. That was why he hated him often.

Claus has habits of insulting them all. Little insults here and there. A job directed someone not upto his standards. Putting them down if they weren't qualified to be his friends.

How they all befriend him is a mystery.

"Not Felix's fault." Andy replied. "Just Thinking."

"Make sure your head isn't in the clouds."

Often, Andy wanted to smack him.

***

"Thomas, you alright bud?"

Fingers snapped in front his face. Thomas jumped in his seat before his mind snapped back to reality. Humming momentarily, he glanced at his friend expressing concern on his side of the table. It flattered the man.

"Yeah, yeah." He rubbed a hand over eyes. "Just thinking about them, you know? Kamryn saying I'm literally 'busing our daughter 'cause I blame her for Louis drowning in that damn boat."

He drank a big gulp of the beer. Tears threatened to burn the edges of his eyes. He wiped over them with his hand and refused to succumb to the sadness that came with the overwhelming depression since the day his son died.

Goddammit, he wouldn't cry.

"Tommy." Arthur used his nickname. It worked as the man's eyes focused solemnly on him. "I think it's intentional, but your upsetting Isabella."

"What?" His brows furrowed. "I haven't—she-I—She hasn't said anything-"

"I've seen the girl break, Thomas. She's your child. You taught her to not take no crap. And you taught her a wonderful lesson."

Arthur placed his beer on the table. He decided he needed to be serious. Thomas didn't like this side of Thomas. He wanted to drink some more of his beer. Wanted the drunk. The escape.

The blissful darkness.

"Nobody breaks an EastWood." He murmured, staring at the empty glass. "Unless they cut us to the bone."

Arthur nodded his head. It wasn't the result he hoped for, but it was still something. He'd seen the man torturing his one daughter mentally for an accident she couldn't control.