Masquerade

Finale

The Brit closed the space between them, kissing Tord.

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His lips were chapped, rough, but perfect. They tasted like alcholol, was that Smirnoff? They tasted like cereal, like pills from rough hangovers, like the salty breeze by the ocean shore. He made his heart feel like someone took a rope and tied up his heart in an attempt to suffocate him. He felt like someone was attempting to slowly dig a knife through that same heart. He felt the Brit who was kissing him had temporarily lifted the weight off of his shoulders, allowing him to breathe. It was perfect.

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His lips were smooth, as if he smothered them in Chap Stick almost every day of his life. He seemed to take decent care of himself. Much better than the Brit did to himself. His lips tasted like cinnamon and a mix of other spices. They tasted like smoke and cigar ashes. They left a bittersweet metallic taste on his own lips. He felt like his heart was going to explode, he felt if he stayed any longer, his heart would give out, but he didn't want to pull away. He wanted to stay safe and secure like this as long as he could.

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Tord was in total bliss. His arms wrapped around the Brit's waist while the Brit's travelled around his neck. Hands ran through his honey brown hair as the Norski pulled him closer, their chests almost touching. Tord smiled, and he could feel the other smirk. Almost ready to take it further, unaware of how slippery the sleek floor of the corridor was.

The Brit could feel The Norski subtly slipping forward, obviously not on purpose, and took a step back to balance them. But in doing this, he stepped in a puddle and slipped backwards. His feet jerked out from underneath him and he felt himself flying backwards. In a desperate flailing attempt to catch himself, he grabbed the front of the Norski's shirt and pulled him down with him into the nebulous waters of the cavern's lake.

Water enclosed the space around him, and the still waters pulled the two apart. Fresh water seeped through the fabric of Tord's closed and temporarily blinded him. He could hear the water rush past his ears as he was pulled down and could feel his body temperature slowly lowering. What he didn't feel, though, was the mask adorning his face being pulled off, swallowed by the misty reservoir.

Suddenly, the lack of oxygen in his lungs struck him, and he flailed his arms until he was able to propel himself upwards, breaking the surface of the lake and spitting out the water clogging his throat. He sputtered and coughed, as he rubbed his eyes, attempting to regain his vision.

"Tord?!"

A shocked voice shouted his name from behind in front of him. Blinking, he looked up in surprise? How could they know his name, he was wearing a mask? And even if they could see past it, how did they know who it was? Besides, the only deep voiced, alcohol smelling, argumentative British male he knew was-

Wait...

"Tom?!?!"

Opening his eyes, a blurry image of a short, lanky, tawny haired man with void eyes that absorbed light yet seemed to glitter themselves. His suit clung to his thin frame and his hands brushed his hair out of his face. His mask was absent, betraying a look of astonishment and horror. The Norski figured he must look the same, and his hand only touching his bare face confirmed that the mask was long gone.

But Tom said he wasn't coming! He said he had better things to do, right? But does that mean Tord had been transfixed with, not a stranger, but Tom when he walked through the doors? Does that mean he spent his night dancing and flirting with his abhorrent roommate? Does that mean Tom had saved him from the fire, and Tom fought with his over the petty topic of going the wrong direction? Does that mean Tom kissed him?

Not that he didn't enjoy it,-

"I-I thought you said y-you weren't coming..!!!"

"And I came anyways." Tom's response was calm, but his face still held surprise and he was trembling, either from the cold or from horror of kissing his enemy and enjoying it. Probably both.

"Where did you even get your outfit?!" Tord asked before he could even register the one place either of them knew to get a costume like that.

"Matt." They both said at the same time.

Suddenly, Tom sloshed out of the reservoir and onto the sleek floors of the tunnels passages. He refused to face Tord and started walking away, shaking. His arms were wrapped around himself, but untimently failed to stop his trembling. To Tom, this was all too much to take in all at once.

"Tom, wait!"

He stopped, but didn't turn around. Not yet.

"I... don't hate you."

"Wow, thanks commie." The sarcastic reply and sadistic nickname were almost instantaneous.

"No, I mean, I never have. You've been annoying, yes, and a nuisance, of course, but tolerant. But you've always been funny and witty and I can even agree with you! I know I start arguments a lot, but I don't mean them. I... I've been wrong! I admit it, I was wrong. About you. Every time. Your stupid smile stays in head all day, my heartbeats faster the closer you get to me, and I had to bite down a blush whenever I saw you. I guess I couldn't tell you to your face, and recognized all the qualities of you in the stranger I met tonight, even though it literally happened to be you, and was only able to admit it to someone without having to really face them."

Tom sighed. He felt the same. Tord wasn't bad, and he never hated him. He just never thought about loving him. But what he said about not being able to tell the other and telling it to someone with the same traits who they'd presumably never see again really did strike him. It hit home, and he felt the same. He did love Tord all along; his stupid smirk, his thick accent, how he'd switch into his mother tongue whenever Tom frightened him. Everything.

"Tom?"

"Yeah?"

Tord spun around, kissing him softly. It was chaste and genuine.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

(A/N: AHHHHHH I FINALLY FINISHED IT! After chapter four was released, I knew I just had to finish this while I had the inspiration (and the time). I am sorry if this feels rushed, and I will probably come back to this and fix mistakes that I find necessary to fix. Thank you so much for all the support you've left me, for all the comments, for all the votes, and for all the reads. I am so unbelievably grateful. I couldn't have done this without you all supporting me all the way through.

Until next time, SecretlyASnake.

(Or preferably, just Snake. Or author. Either is good.)

Bye!~)