Shouldn't Have [TomTord]

Chapter Three

They arrived home after a short amount of time and everything had resumed back to normal. They climbed out of the car and made their way inside, going to do their own things.

Matt and Tord escaped off somewhere, probably to their rooms, while Edd went to set up the lamp by the couch. Tom decided to accompany him.

"Hey, so, uh..." Tom stood awkwardly, watching Edd bent over and fumble with the cord that plugs into the wall, "What exactly did I do last night?"

"Heh, that might be something to ask Tord." Edd chuckled lightly as he finally plugged in the lamp.

"...What?"

"Oh," Edd looked up at Tom, "Well you kind of did something to him." He gave a sympathetic smile.

"Is that why he's suddenly pissed at me?"

"I don't know about that, but, uh, my safe bet is yes." Edd got up from the ground and walked over to the lamp to reposition it on the table near the couch. Tom followed him close behind.

"Do you have any idea what I did?" Tom wasn't too concerned about what he did to Tord, but he was concerned about how he's suddenly finding flowers in his throat and feeling something in his windpipe. There could be a chance that whatever he did last night was the reason for all of it. Did he drink something? Eat something? Preformed a witch spell?

"Actually, no." Edd turned towards Tom with a small smile, but it turned into a wide one shortly after, "But I think it'd be a good idea for you to talk to him! He can tell you and you can apologize and you two can get along!" Edd clapped happily.

Tom would never, in anyone's dreams, apologize to Tord. It was Tord's fault for being mad and it was probably his fault for whatever Tom did to him to make him mad. Edd has always been trying to make them get along, doing whatever he can to stop fights from the source and have them apologize to one another. It never works and Tom is pretty sure he's never heard Tord say 'sorry' in the whole time he's known him.

"Okay, Edd." And like that, Tom walked off down the hallway, leaving Edd in the living room with a kind smile on his face.

Tom was halfway down the hallway, making his way to his own bedroom. He had plans to lock himself away from the world and drink his sorrows away with his secret stash of Smirnoff under his bed. But, standing in front of his bedroom door, he considers not going inside. Instead, he thinks about going to Tord's bedroom, the itch to know what happened last night growing with each passing moment.

Fuck it.

Tom turns around and heads further down the hallway, stomping to Tord's bedroom.

Without knocking, he opens the door without hesitation.

"What did I do last night?" Tom gritted out behind clenched teeth. He saw Tord laying on his bed, examining his hand. Once Tord heard him, the Norwegian's eyes went wide and he quickly shoved both his hands down as if hiding a secret.

It was silent for a couple seconds until Tord narrowed his eyes, "What?"

"What did I do last night?" Tom scoffed, irritable to repeat himself.

"I heard you, dip shit. What do you mean by that?" Tord sat up on his bed and glared at Tom.

"I don't remember anything." Tom said simply.

"Okay, cool, now leave!" Tord stood up and walked towards Tom, as if to intimidate him to leave his room. Tom has never once been intimidated by the other male, and this show of action wasn't going to change that.

"Ugh, no. Just tell me!" Tom took a step further in the room. He needed to know if he did something that caused the pain in his throat, the same pain that pushed against his windpipe and stopped his breathing.

"Why do you want to know so badly? What, do you want to brag to my face or something?" Tord's pointed finger shoved into the center of Tom's chest, pushing him back slightly and asking for a fight. If he wants a fight, he'll get a fight.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Tom pushed against Tord's chest with his whole hand, sending the Norwegian to stumble back slightly from the force.

"Don't push me!" Tord pushed Tom back with both of his hands, sending him backwards into the hallway.

"You pushed me first!" Tom stomped to Tord and pushed his stomach. This caused Tord to fall forward slightly and curl up into his stomach slightly. No way did Tom push that hard. What a fucking baby.

"You... son of a... BITCH!" Tord flung out and grabbed Tom by the stomach, his arms wrapping around him. He shoved forward and threw the eyeless freak down onto the floor, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

Pain flared up all over his back, but he couldn't react to the lack of air in his lungs as he felt a punch to his chest. The pain was unbearable and he felt it everywhere on the top part of his body, spreading around in hot pricks of pain, as if he had fallen in a thorn bush.

Tom was afraid he might die.

"GET THE FUCK OFF!" Tom wheezed out as loud as he could, his throat aching and his chest spreading with red hot pain. He voice came out as a whimper mixed with a voice crack, sounding like he burst his voice box.

He was afraid that all his pain would reach to his windpipe and cause it to clog with more objects, pressing down and stopping his breathing. He was afraid that he'll cough and petals and petals of flowers bouquets would tumble out through his mouth and his nose and his ears and his eyes.

Tom's hearing went static as he felt more numb hits to the chest. He heard a distant shout but he couldn't make out the words. The world seemed to slow down as he stared up at Tord, sitting on him and punching his chest. Why was he hitting his chest? Why was Tom letting this happen? Why couldn't he breathe?

He didn't feel anything in his windpipe. Why did it feel like something was stopping him from breathing? Why did he feel like his skin was turning blue and his lips pale? He suddenly felt like his body was aging quickly, leaving him to image his skin disintegrating and his bones showing, his hair falling out, and his lungs shrinking into what looks like dried raisins.

He had to be dying. What were his last words anyway? Who knows.

He couldn't see. He couldn't hear.

He could no longer keep his eyes open.

.:.