Dianthus Caryophyllus

alstroemaria , companionship

One week, one day, seven hours, fourteen minutes and six seconds. It is one week, one day, seven hours, now fifteen minutes and ten seconds ever since Thomas Innit Craft introduced Ranboo Beloved to the Craft household. It has been two weeks, three days, seven hours, eleven minutes and seven seconds ever since Tubbo Underscore and Ranboo Beloved first met. Tommy hates every second of it.

You can say that he's being selfish. In fact, he knows he's one. But you can't blame him for being internally hurt. If you're seeing his own perspective then you can see how every hour, no one gives a fuck about the youngest Craft, especially his own family. Ever since his mother died due to a sudden car accident, the only remaining light of the family turned shut and off, the household began to change. The once loving Wilbur Soot Craft who's usually singing his little and baby brother to sleep became distant and cold to Tommy. The once caring Technoblade Craft who's helping Tommy's homework and reading him different stories that even Tommy can't understand turned ignorant and not even sharing a single glance towards Tommy. The once laughing Philza Watson Craft, now buried himself in paperworks and only focused on his favorite twins. Tommy can't blame his father though, his older brothers were more successful than him, even in their first freshman year in high school. Good grades, handsome faces, popular, respectful, obedient. Whereas Tommy?

Although, Tommy tried his best. When Tommy was still in his early elementary, he had straight A's. Joining academic clubs that can help his academic reputation. Pay attention to class. He did it all just to make Phil proud of him. Was it worth it? A bit seeing as he learned different things such as being independent and practiced himself to study alone without any help. He even learned how to cook when he was eight when his family 'accidentally' left him to go to a museum the twin always wanted to go with no food to eat and money to use on. He learned how to wash his clothes when he was nine. Such things, he learned at such a young age.

No one knows about this. Neither does his best friend, Tubbo Underscore. He wants to keep it that way. He doesn't want to be receiving unwanted help and pitiful looks that will throw right on his face.

Speaking of Tubbo Underscore, both went on different challenges and passed victorious together. When Tommy was called to the guidance office when he misbehaved in class several times the first time, Tubbo didn't tell his father nor his brothers. When Tubbo failed his math test that he worked hard on, Tommy lied to his father that he got a high and a passing grade.

But when Ranboo Beloved, a new first year student in Esempi High, entered Tommy's life. All happy things changed and the worse one became much worse.

Techno ruffles his brown, fluffy hair. A simple act Tommy remembers when Techno used to do that when they were younger. Phil laughed at Ranboo's rather bad jokes. Wilbur let him listen to his band's songs that weren't even yet released. Tubbo hangs out with him a lot, declining Tommy's own offers to hang out.

Tommy did not say a word about it, though. Not wanting to cause any more problems, leaving it as it is. Tommy was baffled. Why did Ranboo also become distant when Tommy was his first friend in Esempi High, once he introduced him to Tubbo then hesitantly to his own family?

He's not going to be surprised when Phil will adopt Ranboo at this point.

Lying on his bed at eight in the evening, with a distant laughter heard probably from downstairs of the Craft manor, Tommy has a lot of things to do. Homework, cleaning, studying, all kinds of productive things that his father expected him to follow or to make it a routine. Instead, the youngest just stared at the room's ceiling. His huge room was filled with clothes on each corner of his black, marbled, floor. His study table and corner is filled with scattered school materials. Random papers, whether clean or not, pencils, crayons, pens, clips, fasteners, folders are laying on the circular small table with its drawers not closed. His second desk, where his PC, laptops, mouse, keyboard, were in are not even better. Small bits and pieces of crumbs were in between different keys in the keyboard as well as on the far left corner of the tall, wooden desk. He had been playing Minecraft, a game his father had invented with the help of his employees, while eating junk foods by himself considering the decline response from his best friend, earlier at noon till six since it is Sunday, last day of the weekend.