It must be nice... (Jamilton)

'You're just fucking crazy'

~~~~~~~~

Thomas was confused as he replied to the message he had gotten from John. 'I got home a while ago'  he replied, 'Why?'

'You're fucking dead' - John

'What?? Why??' - Thomas

'You know why.' - John 

'I don't' - Thomas

'???' - Thomas

'John?' - Thomas

'ffs' - Thomas

John stopped reading the messages. With the lack of reply Thomas let out an annoyed groan, quickly scrambling up from the bed he'd only just laid down in. The boy left his room - the house was unusually noisy with Martha in her room, on the phone to someone, giggling at something. Jane was helping his mother take care of the small twins downstairs - his mom wasn't quite happy about him not attending their family supper that day. 

Thomas quickly rushed down the stairs, opening the front door. At the noise his mother snapped her head towards him, crying little Anne in her arms, "Where on earth are you going?" she asked. Jane stuck her weary head out to peek at him through the doorway, little Randolph in her arms, much calmer, chewing on her silver necklace. "I'm going on a walk" he said. "You've already been out today" she reminded, her tone stern as she lightly rocked the toddler in her arms. "I know but I've got to go" commented Thomas, standing before the open door, wind lightly blowing inside. "Why?" she asked rhetorically, "You've already been out today" she repeated, her voice growing harsher as she commanded him inside. Thomas decided not to listen to her - he knew exactly what she meant though. "Thomas get back inside" she ordered, but the boy quickly shut the front door, his adrenaline spiking as he made a run for it, leaving his garden and neatly cut bushes, walking out into the plain road, across from his large garage. He turned left and sighed as he stood not too far down from his home - waiting. The boy's nerves caused his hands to shake as he looked at his messages, trying to call John - but it got declined. "For fucks sake..." he muttered under his breath, before looking up from his phone. He glanced around and upon looking to his right he noticed an angry figure in the distance, heading towards him. 

Thomas quickly stood up straight, slipping his phone into the pocket of his blue zip-up hoodie. It wasn't too much of a deep pocket so he slipped both his hands in too, keeping a grip on his phone. Jefferson watched as Laurens approached with bitterness and fire in his eyes, which were fixated on him. "Why the fuck would you do that?!" spat John as soon as he reached at least five feet away from Thomas, who was still very much confused. "What are you talking about?" he asked, searching John for an answer as he furrowed his eyebrows, completely taken back by this bizarre and nerve-pumping situation. "You really don't know?" John paused, his anger too untamed for him to recollect for even a second - "I have no damn idea what your crazy ass is on about!" exclaimed Jefferson. John scoffed, putting both his hands on Thomas's chest to shove him - the other buy felt a sense of agitated disbelief as he felt himself stumble back ever so slightly. "Are you trying to fucking fight me?" asked Thomas, his voice slightly rising in anger as he narrowed his eyes at John, sounding almost like an angry mother in disbelief. "Fight you?" asked John, undoubtedly losing his mind with rage as his breath hitched momentarily. It was safe to say Thomas had never seen him this mad - his expression was an odd contortion of stunned consternation and acrimony rooted from anger.  He took great umbrage to John's actions but he was unsure of how to react in that moment as his freeze, fight or flight mode kicked in. "I'll fight you." spat John, taking a step towards the taller teenager who instantly put up his hands in defence, watching the other like a hawk.