What Are We?

Awkward

Morning came, and the blinding sun rays that past through the curtain made Toms 'eyes' squeeze with discomfort. He sat straight, groaning as he grumbled under his breath. He stared around his room, lost in thought; until he remembered yesterday night.

The memories replayed in his head. The warm feeling, the tension breaking, and a moment where they didn't hate each other. When Tom thinks about yesterday, he can't help but feel the corners of his mouth being pulled into a soft smile, that he forces himself to stop.

The warm feeling from yesterday felt distant, but familiar; like deja vu. Has that warm feeling happened before between them? Tom tried to put his chin on it, but he couldn't exactly remember when else they've had a moment like that.

Then he remembered that Tord was going to say something before Matt barged in. He sighed and flopped back onto his bed, his arms flared out. What was Tord going to say? It seemed like a mystery— a case that he has to solve.

Yeah! He has to just figure out what Tord was gonna say. But how can he do that? It's not like their best buds now because of yesterday. He couldn't just walk up to Tord and ask, "hey bro what were you gonna say last night before that dumb ginger barged in?" Hell no.

"God, what do I do..?" Tom groaned to himself, lifting his hands to his face and covering it. He then heard a knock on the door, making him peer through his hands as he heard the door opening.

It was Tord.

Oh, wow. This is lovely.

Shit, what does Tom say? Does he insult him? No, it's too early. Wait— it never bothered him before how early it was, why start now?!

Should he start a conversation? No, there rivals bro. What does he do? What can he do?

"Tom?"

Tom snapped out of his trance and looked his voids into Tords dark grey eyes. He started to use the blankets to cover himself up completely out of nervousness. Why is he even nervous? Why was he even covering himself up? He didn't have anything to hide. He was wearing his clothes, why is he covering up?!

Tom cleared his throat. He had to think of something to say. He could try to be nice? No. No, just be casual.

"What do you want, fuck-face." Wow.

Tord rolled his eyes and shot them back at Tom. "Hurry up, breakfast is ready. If you don't get your lazy ass up your foods gonna get cold."

Tom scoffed and threw the covers off him. "Yeah yeah, gimme a minute." He mumbled as he ran his hand through his messy hair, giving Tord his infamous middle finger, which Tord did the same before closing the door behind him.

As soon as Tord closed the door, he quickly got rid of his attitude. He was concerned— he's never seen Tom so... skittish. Maybe this has to do with not having alcohol in a while? Maybe, he's heard that there's side effects with not drinking for a while.

He wanted to shrug it off, but for some reason he couldn't. He started to walk back to the kitchen. Hopefully Toms strange behavior would eventually go away.

When Tom saw Tord leaving his room, he let out a sigh of relief he didn't know he was holding in. He sat on the edge of his bed with his elbows on his knees, his head in his palms.

Maybe he was overthinking this whole thing. If anything, the thing Tord wanted to say last night was an insult. He just had to act like everything is normal. Well, everything is normal.

Right?

Tom stood and wiped himself off as he headed out his door, and almost immediately his eyes caught onto Tords. They both quickly looked away from each other as Tom sat down to eat his breakfast that was already prepared for him.

"Breakfast is actually quite this morning." Edd thought to himself. That's very unusual. "So, how did everyone sleep?" Edd asked while digging in into his eggs, a welcoming smile on his face.

"Shit." Tord and Tom said simultaneously, causing the both of them to look at the other for a moment, then looking straight back onto their plates, a red peachy color painting their faces.

Edd, being Edd, quickly got suspicious of this odd behavior. He squinted his eyes, eyeing the both of them.

"Well, I slept wonderful! I had this amazing dream whereiwasaprinceandiwascapture—"
Matt began to ramble. It's something he tends to do a lot when talking about himself. And by a lot, I mean all the time.

Edd occasionally threw in a "that's nice, Matt." Or, "that sounds wild." Tom and Tord forced themselves to agree, to avoid any sort of attention drawn on them.

...

That had to be the longest breakfast ever. Matt would not stop talking about his dream where he was a prince, got captured, and a sheriff and some other guy had to save him. Super unrealistic, would never happen.

Worst part is, Tom didn't even have the guts to talk to Tord. "Fuck, what the hell is wrong with me?" Tom mumbled to himself, starting to remove his shirt and tossing it somewhere.

Tom would have never had the problem to talk to him, insult him, fight him at any given chance— but why was today so difficult? He rubbed his eyes out of frustration and sat down on his desk. He thought for a moment, how he would approach Tord with the question that's been boggling his mind all day.

Wait, why would Tom even have to think how we was gonna talk to Tord? Just act how he normally does: cold. Yeah! They could just hopefully argue and start an argument, and things will go back to normal.

And that's exactly what he did.

...