Flower Picker || c!Tommy Angst

III: Like a brother

Tommy wondered if Tubbo had ever cared.

Of course, he had to have, at some point. Maybe he did. Maybe. Tommy thinks it doesn't matter now. What matters is the present.

At that time, the present signs pointed to 'no'. Still. If he did...

Tommy does not dare ask Dream. Though he is the closest thing to a friend at present, those thoughts are buried in the deepest parts of his mind.

He keeps pictures. Important ones. One of Tubbo and him. One of Tubbo posing by the ocean. There's also trinkets. And a few diamonds he salvaged from Dream's daily resets.

He does not trust himself to look at them, hidden under carpet and trapdoor.

Absentmindedly he tears out a bit of grass. The color reminds him of that old, worn button-up Tubbo was so attached to. Tommy remembers the day Tubbo folded it up and placed it neatly at the bottom of his enderchest. Tommy wonders if it's still there.

He finds a daisy. Boring flower, is what he used to think. He likes the simplicity now. It's constant.

He hesitates on plucking the petals this time. A flower like this should be preserved, not...

...Maybe part of Tommy also doesn't want to know. It'd hurt too much. Or give false hope.

He's unsure which is worse.

Tommy takes the daisy in his hand. After ensuring Dream isn't anywhere nearby, he sneaks under the Logstedshire van and into his hidden room.

There's a book he's kept with him, always. A gift from someone important to him. Someone pressed it in his hands and asked him to write, for fear that their stories would be lost.

Tommy was never a good writer; that was always Wilbur's thing.

But a book could work for other things.

By the time Dream calls him, Tommy's set the daisy delicately between sets of pages and covered that book with heavy items. He exits out of the room as carefully as possible.

By the time Dream finds him, he's long been sitting by the sea.
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344 words