Pack [Eddsworld]

CHAPTER THREE

It was dark. Shadows crept over Matt's creepy novelty toy collection and stalked around the room. The ginger himself was cuddled up in Edd's bed, leaving the brunet to doze on the sofa downstairs.

Tord and Ylva were both lying in Matt's bed, on their sides and turned away from each other. The purple duvet was barely enough to cover them both, and they were practically hanging off the sides of the mattress due to their unwillingness to make contact. Moonlight spilled through the closed window and across the wooden floorboards, turning it into a silver river.

"Is it time yet?" She whispered to him, growing restless and turning over to face her leader.

"We need to be sure they're all asleep before we leave." Tord hissed to her, pulling the covers up to his chin and bringing up his legs as far as he dared.

There was a moment of silence, punctuated only with the faint sounds of their breathing. Being in the attic meant that they were unable to hear if anyone else was on the move downstairs.

"...what about now?" Ylva stared intently at the back of his head, noting how messy and ruffled his hair was.

Tord grumbled under his breath, rolling over and coming face-to-face with her. "You've been spending too much time with Matt, soldier."

"He's not that bad, sir." She pointed out, a smirk tugging at her mouth. "He's nothing like my brothers- he's so much sweeter, and far more innocent."

He couldn't help a chuckle escaping his lips, although he tried his hardest to seem tough and cool. "Yeah, I can't believe the first thing he thought of was 'bed trampoline'. At least his gullibility means he's incredibly easy to fool."

Ylva felt an admission on the tip of her tongue, I feel guilty for lying to them, but she stopped the words before she showed weakness. Instead, she blanked her expression and drew away from Tord's face, sitting up in bed and glancing sideways to the window. He cleared his throat and did the same, raising his hand to fix his hair, only to wince as his fingers brushed across his scars.

"Uh, right. Okay." Tord slipped out of bed after Ylva, both of them standing in front of the window in only their underwear. "We need to go incognito before we leave. Any ideas for a disguise?"

"You could tie your hair back, sir...?" She suggested hesitantly, her robotic hands curling into nervous fists as she wondered how he would respond.

His eyebrow raised. "I'd look like a girl, soldier."

"Precisely, sir. No one would think a girl would be a threat." The ginger elaborated on her idea, crossing her arms under her boobs, consequently pushing them up tighter against her bra.

Tord suddenly became very interested in the poster on the wall above Matt's bed. "Ah, yes... Good thinking, solder. Could you bring me some..." He pinched the bridge of his nose, barely believing what he was about to say. "...feminine clothes of yours?"

She nodded and padded, barefoot, over to her bags at the foot of the bed. From inside one pink rucksack, Ylva withdrew a smaller bag, just a little too big to fit in her hand. A pair of loose, white jeans were thrown over to Tord and landed at his feet for him to pull on. He slipped a v-neck grey T-shirt over his bare torso; the fabric was tight around his abs but incredibly loose around his chest.

Confused, the Norwegian looked down, only for a bra to be thrown into his face. He caught it with a blush rapidly spreading across his cheek, meeting Ylva's amused gaze and becoming even more flustered.

"I am not wearing a bra!" He said in a hushed tone, trying to convey his indignance without yelling.

"I'm your designated bodyguard, which means I control your safety. For the sake of your safety, I say you must dress like a woman, bra and make-up included." She stated in a calm tone, picking up a bundle of clean socks in one hand and her make-up bag in the other.

"Oh my God..."

Thirty minutes of complaining and squirming later, Ylva had finished with Tord. He had become as feminine as she could possibly make him, contouring his face and making his jawline appear softer with shadows and highlights. His lashes were longer and darker thanks to mascara, his lips were reddened with lipstick, and his cheeks pink with blush. The scars had been hidden with layers of concealer. Socks had been stuffed in the bra that had been forced upon his toned chest, and for anyone but them it would look like he had an impressive bust. A red coat was worn over his shirt, fastened with large, gold buttons. The nails on his human hand had been carefully painted blood red.

"Okay, but I'm not wearing heels." He attempted to defend the shattered remains of his masculine pride.

"No, you'd probably break your ankles. That would be inconvenient." Ylva agreed with him, smoothing down his spiked hair into small pigtails and tying it back with a red hairband. "Now then, what's your name and story?"

"Uh," Tord rubbed at his throat, coughing and taking a deep breath, "hi, my name is Tori, and I'm a lesbian."

"What?!" Ylva spluttered, quickly shaking her head and regaining her resolve. "Seems decent enough. That will help keep guys away from you, I suppose."

"We need to leave, soldier, we've already wasted too much time." He commanded her, heading over to the window and unlocking it.

"No."

"Excuse me?" Tord turned around to glare sternly at her. "You've been hired by me, therefore you obey my orders, soldier."

"I'm not going until you get into character, sir. We can't have you accidentally giving us away." The Norwegian girl crossed her arms across her pink hoodie and stood her ground, naturally taller than him.

"You've got to be-" he snarled, scrunching up his face and letting out an angry huff of air. He raised the pitch of his voice, faking a sweet smile. "C'mon, girl. We need to get going."

"Better. We'll improve on it on the way." She walked over to stand beside him, trying to move as softly as she could with her pink stiletto heels clicking on the wooden floorboards.

"Great." He pulled up the window and motioned towards it, leaning on the wall casually. "Ladies first, Ylva."

The ginger girl poked her head out first, scanning for a good foothold. She drew back and sat on the window frame, balancing precariously for a moment before edging out and scooting along the narrow strip of roof, holding the wall. Tord emerged after her, both of them peering down at the dark grass far below them.

"Regretting the heels yet, girlfriend?" He couldn't help but murmur to her, earning a light smack on his chest. "Ah! My breasts!"

"Shut it, Tori." Ylva threw off her heels and jumped off, landing in a successful roll and swiftly standing back up to slip her shoes back on.

Tord blinked in surprise. He leapt down after her, landing as silently as a cat.

Together, they crept off down the road, heading towards the depths of London.

~

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