❥ tordtom oneshots《

Gold in my Memories

sooo hi

i dont know what im exactly doing since like, i havent written in forever, i can blame it on my decreasing interest in writing or my inactivity on creations as a whole, or school, or whatever shit can come to mind to make it seem like its okay that i stay inconsistent and untrue to my words on this platform LMAO

but honestly ik im being stupid now, i open requests, promise ill write like 4, and never write them because i'd lose motivation after the 1st one

so, i KNOW i should apologize

and i will; im sorry

it sounds like im abt to write a vent i swear im not TAT

ive practically been using you all as a bucket for my tears and it's not very right of me

because i'm acknowledging that, i decided to write fluff

to cheer me up, and others who may just need to read something warm and sweet, i won't be saying what fight i got into this time since it's not about me

i thank the people who have stayed with this book for so long even if my end goes quiet for months on end, so now, i bring you a fluff shot with a quote from zhongli that cheers me up when i'm feeling down

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The air was crisp, freeing in the midst of the comforting sunrise at dawn. Two kids found themselves cradled in each other's arms as they watched the tan light creep out from beyond the mountain at an anticipating pace, licking the clouds with pastels of colors.

One of the boys gazed at the other, watching as he admired the sky. He smiled, opening his mouth to murmur soft words into the other's ear,

"Should the day ever come that we are not together, you will continue to shine like gold in my memories."

The other turned to face his lover, a warm, tiny smile creeping up on his full lips.

However, he said nothing in response. There was no need for words. His expression told everything, and all that was needed to be expressed was a mutual agreement, a glint of admiration and love in those beautiful, black ovals.

And the boy kept that promise.

Years went by, Thomas Rosewell and Thorfid Victor Larkenson (better known as Tord) grew up and graduated secondary school. They spent their summer sharing their time together and preparing to enter college together. They were ecstatic, Tord was accepted to King's College London. Tom was already accepted by Oxford, he was sure to join Tord at King's!

"Kjære? You have been hunched over your phone all day, is everything alright?" The Norwegian asked, watching his boyfriend from his chair.

Tom shifted in his spot on the bed, eyes flickering up to look at him. "Hm? Oh, yeah, I'm just waiting for the email─ I'm okay." He gave a reassuring smile, making Tord slowly nod his head, skeptical,

"Alright.. Say, why don't you lay back, we can watch a movie and cuddle? Trust me, the email will come, you do not need to hurt your neck endlessly refreshing the tab, okay?"

A small sigh left the other's lips, he was right. Tom was overthinking, it'll be fine, he'll relax with Tord, get the acceptance email, and it'll be smooth sailing in paradise (and academic hell) with his soulmate. "Okayyy, you have a point─" he set his phone down and flopped back on the bed, hearing some shuffling before the mattress sunk slightly and he was embraced by a pair of strong arms.

"Good."

Tord kissed his forehead after pushing some soft, brunette locks out the way, flicking on the TV and holding his lover as they rummaged for something to watch.

3 hours of 2 movies past, Tom groaning as he listened to Tord rant about House of 1000 Corpses.

"The gore is the only good part! And when he turns into a fucking fish, there is not a single scar! He looks like a biological merman, not a creation of a maniac!"

Tom huffed "It was 2003! And c'mon, the editing is crappy, sure, but it's Robbb! He was still getting the hang of editing, the movie's a masterpiece!" He retorted before pushing the other down on the bed, climbing on top with a grin. "Shoo shoo, said the maiden!" He squealed, attempting to get his voice to Baby Firefly's pitch.

Tord couldn't help but laugh, holding onto Tom's waist lovingly before he pretended to lay dead. He cracked a smile at Tom's victorious laugh. They held each other before Tom abruptly snapped his head up at the faint vibration of his phone.

He gasped and scrambled to grab it, digging it out from the blankets, he squealed when he read the notification; a reply to his application.

"Holy shit! Tord, this is it!"

The taller sat up, watching Tom with interest, he placed a hand on his shoulder. "Take a breath, okay? You'll start hyperventilating if you get to excited─"

"Right, right." He took his time to catch his breath before slowly typing in his password combination and opening the email.

'Dear, Mr. Rosewell,

This is in regard to your application to the Professional/Creative Writing program in King's College London. We regret that we cannot offer you admission to this program. 

Every year, we receive a large number of applications from extremely well qualified candidates. We are able to accept only a few because of the significant amount of time our faculty members spend with each graduate student. We make our admissions decisions only after reviewing each application very carefully.'

Tom's heart dropped the second he read the rejection statement. His smile slipped away further into the email he read.

This couldn't be happening, right? That 13% acceptance rate sure is stabbing him in the back now.

Tord stared silently, he already knew what was contained in that email. He could see it in his lover's eyes. Just to be sure, he mumbled, "is everything okay..?"

"..I really thought I'd get in." The horn-haired male frowned, forehead creasing as his brows knitted together. "Am I too stupid? Too boring? I really thought that my portfolio was good enough for King's─"

"Hey. You are not stupid. Never, think that, Thomas. You are the smartest, most cunning man I have ever met. You are handsome, brave, capable, and talented, do you understand?" He claimed with a gentle, yet focused voice.

Tom slowly nodded before he leaned forward, face pressing into Tord's shoulder before he let out a choked sob. The other held him close, rubbing smooth circles into his back with warm hands, crooning soothing words as he comforted his defeated lover.

A few weeks passed, Tord insisted he can give up on King's to join Tom at Oxford, but the freckled boy sternly declined, wanting Tord to recieve the best education, as he deserved it with all his hard work. "We're still in Britain. We can hang out still, and chat, and love each other, okay? Please, for me, go to it.."

Tord exhaled but nodded "Alright. For you, min kjære."

"Thank you, mon amour."

And Tord did just that. He still kept his promise. They attended their separate academies, but stayed as glued together as they were in high school. Distance and studies can never tear them apart, no matter how hard the push came to shove.

Even if they did get overworked and their lines fell temporarily silent, they still kept each other heavily in mind. Their love, their longing to stay together in person, cuddle endlessly, embrace and kiss, was motivation to keep pushing.

They continued to shine like gold, in each other's memories.

And of course, they longed for each other.

All that time, waiting to feel each other's warmth for more than a couple of days.

It made it even the sweeter, when they graduated their degree, when Tord got on the train, traveled, and when he walked out the carriage, and in the sea of civilians crowded underground in the subway, spotted a porcelain skinned boy, with big, black eyes, waiting right for him and his embrace.