Monsters start at coffee

Basic human decency

Tord looked down, his fingers absently tapping on the edge of the table. He shouldn't have said that, Tom was better off not knowing.

"I was on the news?" Tom's furrowed brows made his eyes squint.

Tord's fingers paused their tapping, and their gazes met. "not exactly... just a blur" Tom seemed relieved, a sigh escaping his mouth. "I don't think anyone suspects anything, there's no need to worry, Tom." He lied - the thing he's best at - there's quite a lot to things to worry. But not now.

"Nothing to worry?! Tord! I killed a woman! I'm a murderer, a monster!" Tom acted as if he'd get up, but his injured knee wouldn't let him, leaving the hybrid back down with a groan and a hand pressuring the wound. "and it's all your fault..." this last bit, mumbled incomprehensibly, wasn't loud enough to reach Tord's ears. Tom's tone was less of anger and more of sorrow, diverging from his normal rage and irony and distrust.

Tord didn't really know what to say. He'd been repeating the same thing to the hybrid for so long, that  he regretted every second of that night, that it wasn't on purpose, but it didn't matter, because it was done. And he knew that. Tord felt, since the start, that there was no cure, no way to go back, but had never admitted it. And still won't. He's working on it! It's coming together, surely.

Tord found it apropriate to get closer to the other.

"Were you conscious?"

"hm?"

"Were you conscious?"

"Yeah, of course I, conscious, would mercilessly murder a woman!" everytime Tom mentioned the murder a lump formed in the norwegian's throat. It was more Tord's fault than Tom's, if thought that way. Maybe the sarcasm was an attempt to ease himself, but if the assumption was correct, it surely didn't work, tears threatening to fall down black eyes, voice deseperately trying to sound normal, failing miserably at everything.

"Tom, you didn't kill her. The..." Tord vaguely motioned towards Tom's horns "the thing did it." he was so bad at conforting people it was embarassing.

"I am the thing!" Tom would have yelled if his voice wasn't hoarse and trembling. This was the last straw, Tom facade finally broke, face scrunching up, hot tears finally rolling down his face, making choked down sounds, as if he tried to stop it, but couldn't. Tord watched wordlessly as Tom's body hunched over and sobbed, breathing uneven, looking away from the other.

"Tom." Tord's body moved in instinct, without a second thought. He lightly put a hand in Tom's jaw - just below his scales, making the other flinch - and slowly turned the hybrid's head so he could look into his wet eyes, black as the sky just after the window behind them. "You are, most definetly, not the thing." Tom's stare said everything. No one would say eyes with no irises could tell so much. It hurt, both phisically and emotionally, and it was far too much for a person - much less an inoccent one - to bear.

Much for the norwegian's surprise, Tom reached for his body seeking comfort, colapsing into his chest, letting the tears soak into the red hoodie. Sound muffled by the fabric, Tom continued to bawl and weep and fail to try and stop, lettting everything that has been happening out. His tail wagged unconfortably, much like a cat's. It was strange, seeing the unbreakable man break - not for the first time, but this one felt different, more vulnerable - feeling the other's warmth dissipate into him. Not knowing what to do, Tord put his hand in Tom's back, which initially startled the other, and started slowly caresssing him, eventually going over to his hair and staying there. Maybe, not that he'd ever admit that, it was soothing to have Tom's weight on top of him, remembering him that it's not over yet, and there's surely a way out, two things he had given up before. The setup went on for a while, until the hybrid's cry were nothing but the occasional sob.