Debts To Be Settled

18

Tommy sits at his desk. He quietly mends the tears on an older jacket, careful not to do further damage. The sun starts to peek between the closed blinds in the window in front of his desk. The other windows down the line of desks have their curtains pulled tight, allowing only tinted light to seep across the wooden surfaces. Tommy considers closing his own curtains, but he decides against such a pursuit. He enjoys the hesitant warmth that seems to linger in the room from the windows. It isn't enough to stop the slow shivers hidden beneath his hoodie, but Tommy is far too used to both the colder temperature and his work to stop or accidentally do more damage. The motions are so rhythmic that his thoughts wander away from his task in his hands without any consequences.

Tommy's attention only snaps back into the moment when he hears a muted grumbling. Tommy nearly pricks his finger with the needle, quickly jerking it away from his skin in time. He looks over his shoulder at the source of the disturbance. Wilbur is slowly sitting up from the blanket and pillow mess Tommy usually uses as his bed. Wilbur drops his head into his hands, making even more noises as he tries to get familiar with the environment around him. Tommy snickers under his breath, turning away when he feels Wilbur's head jerking up to glare at Tommy. The brunette makes a horrible noise, and Tommy hears the creaking of the wood beneath Wilbur's body weight as he moves. "My head fucking hurts."

Tommy barks out another laugh. He shakes his head, trying to smooth over the amusement inside of him. He turns his chair all the way around, spinning until he's facing Wilbur. The man is sitting on the edge of the thick blanket with his legs stretched out off the side. Wilbur puts his cheek into the palm of his hand. He blinks lazily at Tommy, a soft sort of pain humming alongside his irises. "You shouldn't drink alcohol in the future."

Tommy rolls his eyes, gesturing to the messy state of Wilbur's clothes and the grumbling noises he continues to make. "How about you take your own advice, big man?"

Wilbur groans in response. Tommy snorts. He pushes off the arms of his chair to stand up. Tommy walks across the room to the mini-fridge. He pulls out a slightly cooler than lukewarm water bottle. Tommy tosses it over to Wilbur. Instead of catching it, the side of the bottle lands against Wilbur's arm. This knocks his elbow loose, nearly sending his head into his knee. Wilbur catches himself before that happens, but he rubs his arm with several complaints dancing across his tongue. Tommy laughs fully, ignoring the venom-less glare Wilbur shoots his way. Despite the bottle doing him harm, Wilbur picks it up, unscrewing the top. He sips on the water slowly. Tommy returns to his chair, dropping down onto the seat.

"Ugh, it's so cold!" Wilbur continues complaining, setting the water down beside him. He flops back down on Tommy's blanket. He reaches for a pillow, hugging it against his chest. He stares at Tommy with pleading eyes, but Tommy doesn't know what Wilbur is trying to plead for. He looks around, searching for some blanket alternative that would get Wilbur to shut up. When he comes up empty, he shrugs his shoulders and purses his lips. Wilbur huffs. "Turn the air conditioner on or something."

Tommy rolls his eyes so hard that he starts spinning back to his desk. He grabs the edge, pulling himself closer to the surface. He picks up the jacket he was working on along with the threaded needle. "The thermostat is in Madeleine's office downstairs. If you want to be warmer, you can fucking sneak into her office and incur her wrath."

"You are clearly underestimating my eloquent speech," Wilbur remarks. He gets up from the mess of blankets. He places a cold hand against the side of Tommy's face as he passes, even messing up Tommy's hair. The blonde grumbles, reaching to kick Wilbur. The man is out of range by the time Tommy turns to face him. Tommy listens to Wilbur's sinister laughter as he leaps down the steps two at a time. Tommy rolls his eyes, deciding to let Wilbur injure himself without interference or a word of concern. Tommy fixes his hair as best he can, turning back to his desk.