{ silence -- eddsworld tom x reader

whiskey

You took a swig of whiskey, your head swarming with thoughts as you sat on your worn-down mattress. God, how long had it been? You checked the tattered calendar next to the sloppily folded duvet at the end of your bed. You found it while scrounging around the base alongside a slightly dry sharpie. The numbers didn't correctly correspond with the days of the week since it was for several years ago, but you took it upon yourself to re-write all the dates. You looked at the crossed out squares signifying how many days had passed, and you were surprised it had only been a week. It felt like it's been ages mapping out the base and formulating plans, but the sharpie marks disagreed. You shakily stood up from your bed, the bottle of alcohol still in hand. You stole it from Tom yesterday after returning his clothes you had worn from when you first arrived. You slipped on the shoes Edd lent you a few days ago that were loose around your feet, but it was better than nothing. You made your way out into the hallway and stumbled into the dining hall, a common meeting place for the three of you. Tom was seated at one of the rectangular tables, which was unusual. Usually Edd was there first and Tom arrived last. You walked over to him but before you could take a seat, he hissed, "what the fuck is that."

"This?" you chuckled, pointing at the bottle of whiskey in one hand. "It's your precious alcohol, asshole."

"What!? Why are you calling me an asshole? You're the one stealing my stuff," Tom proclaimed.

"Because you're the one hoarding it," you said before taking a big swig in front of the eyeless man. God, it burned, but the aggressive expression forming on Tom's face was worth it. "On that note, where's Edd? He's usually early."

"He's in the back gathering food for your sad ass," he said, blood still boiling.

"Our sad asses," you corrected. "You're still an asshole."

"Productive conversation, guys," Edd called out sarcastically behind you with cans of food and three forks. He put the items down on the table, a few of the containers rolling off the table. Nobody cared to pick them up.

"You have great hearing, Edd," you remarked, picking up a can of pineapple and a bent fork.

"And you're great at being friends with Tom," Edd said, inspecting a can of baked beans.

"Tom's great at being an asshole," you said, laughing at your own "joke."

"You must be really drunk to be laughing at that," Tom added, already digging into a can of a fruit cocktail drenched in syrup.

"It's too bad that Tom's an asshole but nobody would fuck him," you continued.

"I think you're just projecting your personal problems onto me," he shot back.

"DO YOU WANT TO FUCKING GO?" you shouted while standing up, slamming your luckily unopened can of pineapple onto the table.

"Alright, Jesus Christ, calm down," Edd said, pulling you back down by your arms. "I'm taking away alcohol from both of you."

"Edd, you're an asshole too," you mumbled. You poured more whiskey into your mouth, some of it dripping down your chin.

"I'll hang myself before you do that," Tom retaliated, slightly denting the can of fruit as his knuckles went white around it.

"I hate all of you," Edd said, burying his head in his hands. "Look, I just wanted to quickly talk as we ate breakfast, but apparently, somebody insisted on being drunk at seven in the morning."

"Shut. Edd, you beautiful man, shush. We need to let Edd talk," you said, realizing that the bottle had become a little less full. When did you drink more? You looked at the bottle with a puzzled look as Edd sighed.