Things That Need To Pass (passerine!Technoblade x OC) {COMPLETED}

Intents

(Eryn POV)

"I don't remember much about her," Tommy admitted as he rolled his apple between his palms, as if that could somehow make her distant laughter clearer in his head. "But I remember how much she loved those apple-picking days. We would be there until midnight, if she got her way. She used to gather the apple blossoms and toss them at us just to make us laugh whenever we complained we were getting bored."

"No," Wilbur said quietly. "That was Father." I stilled. 

Tommy seemed as if he wanted to kick himself. "Oh. Well. I'm sorry, I guess, I told you I don't really remember—"

"It's alright, Tommy, there's no need to apologize." Wilbur tossed his apple high into the air and caught it gracefully with one hand. "He abandoned you, too.  And you, right?" he looked at me. I nodded silently.

They polished off the rest of their apples in silence, neither of them saying another word about the phantoms that had been hanging over them for nearly a decade. It seemed to Tommy that people were haunted by two types of ghosts: the ghosts of those who died, and those who left. It was just his luck that he had both. I kind of felt sorry for them.

When they were both done, Wilbur silently wrapped the cores in an extra sheet of parchment and placed it on the edge of his table for later disposal. As he did, Tommy's attention was drawn back to the letter Wilbur had been working on when he entered.

"You didn't answer my question," Tommy said, idly kicking his heels against Wilbur's desk. "What does conscription mean?" I let out a laugh.

Wilbur sighed as he took up his quill again. "You don't need to know, Tommy."

Tommy bristled at the careless dismissal. "I'm a prince of this kingdom, Wilbur. I deserve to know."

Wilbur quirked an eyebrow at him. "Oh, suddenly you're interested in the affairs of the realm?"

"I've always been interested."

"What's our highest-earning exported product, then?" 

"Uh." Tommy scanned the table. "Apples. Tea? Parchment." I rolled my eyes.

Wilbur seconded the motion. "You are a ridiculous child." He began scribbling away at the letter once more.

"I'm not a child," Tommy murmured.

"You are. Look at yourself. You're supposed to be a prince, and yet you spend your days play-fighting with Techno, or annoying the guards, or annoying me. What part of your behavior isn't childlike?" I quirked an eyebrow. "Wil, I don't think you should be saying things like that in front of Toms. Remember what happened to you two-" 

Wilbur's quill stopped in the middle of a sentence as his, and my, words settled over them. Tommy felt heat rise to his cheeks and hurriedly got to his feet before Wilbur could see. His gut churned at the insult, and the lingering taste of apple on his tongue turned rancid and bitter.

"Tommy—" Wilbur called, but Tommy was already making his way towards the door. "Tommy, wait."

"You're not the fucking boss of me," Tommy spat without turning, lacing his words with venomous anger.

"I am, actually, but that's besides the point." Tommy heard Wilbur's seat scrape against the floor, but no footsteps running after him. "Tommy! Gods. You're proving my point if you walk out that door." "And your proving my point by saying that." I mumbled.

"I don't care. Screw you, Wilbur, screw you!" Tommy threw the doors open, startling the guard outside. He marched past the threshold, slapping at his cheeks as if that might somehow dissipate the shame gathering there.