Shouldn't Have [TomTord]

Chapter Six

Tom made sure to keep lights off as he covered his body in his bed sheets, wrapping himself up in the comfort and blocked himself away from the outside world. He curled into himself thinking about the events that happened just minutes prior.

Edd sitting Tom and Tord down, asking them questions and having too much being said. The hurt in Tom's throat and the pressure of feelings he had no idea to put into words.

Why was this such a big deal to Tom?

So what if Tord said he only liked him for his 'tolerable' catchphrases? So what if Edd felt guilty to bringing Tom to the house? So what if Tom was a black out drunk and everyone knew it?

He didn't need to care and he didn't. He didn't care at all.

Just as he was about to reach for his flask filled with Smirnoff, a tiny knock sounded against the door to his bedroom.

"Not now." Tom grumbled and unscrewed the cap to his flask. He took a swig when a quiet voice whispered out to him.

"It's me, Matt."

Tom rolled his eyes, "I'm really not feeling it right now." He thought of coughing to make it seem like he was sick, but that'd just be dumb. As well as dangerous if it ended up with him accidentally coughing up more flower petals.

"We really need to talk." Matt said through the door, devoid of any light or happiness in his voice. Tom heard the door knob jiggle and turn in different directions, almost as if Matt as nervous and fumbling.

"Hey, uh, Matt? You okay?" Tom moved off his bed, his bare feet meeting the carpeted floor. He thought about opening the door for Matt, but hesitated until he heard his reply.

"Yeah, yeah! Just - please - can I come in?" He sounded so scared, as if someone was holding him at gun point. What had gotten into this guy?

Tom made his way to the door, maneuvering around the piles of discarded clothes and alcohol bottles on the floor. When he made it to the wooden door, his hand reached for the cold-to-the-touch knob, but hesitated to turn it. What was it that was so important that Matt needed to talk about now? Who's to say that when Tom opens this door, Matt won't come in and finish the job the flowers started and kill him?

Tom decided that no, that's silly. Matt would never hurt Tom. So he opened the down wide enough for Matt to get a good view of his room.

And then he was tackled.

Tom thrashed around and kept himself on his feet, his arms being held down to his sides with so much strength that he was too weak to retaliate. He was sure he was going to die. He was going to be suffocated and choked and he'll cough and flowers will come up and he'll die and---

"Woah, wow! Tom! Stop it! Ouch!"

Tom stopped thrashing and let himself become still. He was still standing on his feet and he looked down to see Matt huddled up into a ball at his feet, holding the top of his own head to shield himself from something. Tom realized Matt was shielding himself away from his hitting and thrashing. God, he just kept messing up.

"Oh. Sorry... Matt? Uh." Tom bent down and went to hold the ginger's hand to bring him up to a stand. Matt flinched slightly, but took Tom's hand nonetheless.

"Why did you hit me?! I was just hugging you." Matt pouted.

"I... don't know." In a way, Tom did know. He knew that he was going slightly insane from just being cooped up in his room for the past hour or two with nothing but his thoughts of denial and self loathing. Maybe he was experiencing paranoia, but he was sure that Matt had tried to kill him. Why did he even think that? "I'm sorry."