The Fire In Our Hearts (TomTord)

Cardboard Boxes and Familiar Faces

Tom waved to Matt and Edd as they drove off on their way to work. He glanced at their cream colored house, bitterly remembering how their previous home had been burned to the ground by their 'friend'.

Tom but his lip. Ha! Friend indeed.

He straightened his back and began walking to work. He was part of a residential moving company and there was a new batch of stuff waiting in their warehouse to be delivered.

Sure, moving people's junk from one place to another wasn't exactly Tom's idea of fun, but he was glad to have even found a job. He couldn't work in a restaurant or in retail like Matt, who worked at a coffee shop, or be an artist or animator like Edd. So he was happy simply hauling stuff around.

Eduardo and Jon (yes, he survived) were waiting impatiently for Tom when he arrived.

"Heya dingo!" Eduardo called "hurry! We don't wanna be late again!"

Tom jumped in the back of the truck to make sure none of the boxes fell and the three of them were on their way. "Slow down you maniac!" Tom shouted from the back of the truck as Eduardo made a sharp turn, nearly overturning two piles of boxes.

Tom sighed as he felt the truck slowly come to a stop. Jon opened the back of the truck, letting light stream into the dark space.

Boxes began being unloaded as Tom took the clipboard and paperwork of off a hook inside the truck. Jon yelped as a box slipped from his hands and fell to the ground. It's contents could be heard shattering.

Jon began to panic and apologize profusely as Tom picked it up. "It's okay, I'll just go explain when I bring them the paperwork" he offered. Jon nodded and shuffled over to the Truck where Eduardo was for emotional reassurance. Poor guy, Tom thought as he carried the box of broken possessions up to the door and rung the doorbell​.

Tom checked the papers on the clipboard and happened to glance at the slightly crumpled box. The flaps on top had come open, revealing the contents of the box.

The box was filled with nothing but candles. The shattering Jon and he had heard was the glass jars on some of the candles.

Tom jumped as the door opened. "Yes?" An extremely thick accent reached Tom's ears. "U-uh, were the movers. Can you sign these at the bottom." Tom said, the accent bothered him. It hit way to close to home.

The person opened the door more and took the clipboard and pen from Tom's hands and began to flip through the pages, signing on the designated lines. When the clipboard was handed back to Tom he told the man, "sorry we broke some of your er-candles". The man's one visible, grey, eye flicked to the box and he let out a quiet sigh as he knelt down and began picking the big glass shards out of the box. "It's alright, most of these are still usable". Once again the thick accent tugged at Tom.

Tom watched the man uneasily. He had mid-length caramel beige hair that swept down into fluffy bangs that covered one of his eyes. The eye he could see was a stormy grey and he was wearing a white wolf t-shirt over his thin frame.

Tom looked down at the papers in his hand and nearly dropped the clipboard.

At the very bottom of the first page a grey eyed Norski had scribbled Tord L.

"Tord?" Tom whispered roughly. Tord stood up carrying his box of candles and as he moved Tom could see light scar lines on the side of his face that was mostly covered by hair as well as on his arm.

"Yes?" Tord replied calmly as he kicked open his door and placed his box on a small table.

"Uh...where should-where should we put all the boxes?" He decided to say and Tord walked around him saying, "wait a sec, I'll open the garage. You can put them there". Tom only nodded and walked back to his coworkers to get more boxes.

As Tom placed the last box inside Tord's garage he paused and walked up to Tord. He swept Tord's bangs out of his face and held them there, looking at his face intently.

As Tord's skin had tanned it had brought out scars on the right side of his face. Tom vividly remembered trying to stab Tord with a harpoon after he had set fire to the house and watching as Tord rolled and slide painfully down the hill. The Tord from back then was smug, diabolical, rude, and would never let Tom touch him.

Old Tord would have brushed him off immediately and pissed Tom off with some smartass remark.

This Tord only narrowed his eyes slightly. The lack of reaction was unnatural.

Tom let Tord's bangs fall back around his face and walked off, driving away in the white movers truck as Tord watched from his garage.