death hotline (tomtord)

sleepless thinking

9:54 pm was when the coversation ended. tord said his shift was ending soon.

that wasnt all of it,

"i would love to talk to you all night, but my shift is ending. call me tommorow. promise?" tord said, an audible yawn following after.

"promise."

the conversation repeated in toms mind as he pulled the thick, checkered blanket over himself. each time, making tom happier. if each cut would be erased each time tom felt happiness inside, each cut would be gone today. 

this was the first time in a while that tom slept in his bed. he usually was knocked out and sitting at his desk or at the table surrounded by vodka. his bed was untouched for about a week or two. tom stopped keeping track of time a long ago.

no one ever wanted to talk to thomas. so this moment was very special.

sitting slightly upward in his bed, tom thought of tord. if they ever would meet in real life, instead of talking though the phone. would tord change his mind about tom?
tom had already experienced how judgemental people could be just by looking on the outside.

tom looked like a wreck.

his hair was messy, he hadnt brushed it in a while. he had bags under his eyes from never sleeping. sleeping only happened on special occasions. crusted tears stuck to the bottom of his eyes from crying so much.

and the wrists, they were just the worst part. covered in cuts. not just on the inside of his wrist, they covered every part of his arms.

come the day, tom would prepare himself.

but, tord deals with people that do that a lot. probably. if he met the callers, which didnt happen much, tom assumed.

is that even allowed? for the hotliner to meet the caller?

tom didnt care at this point. he just wanted to meet tord. he wanted meet this enigmatic man behind the screen.

"dont talk to strangers." tom remembered his mother saying to him when they were at the mall. young thomas had been approached by a man asking if he wanted to go for a ride.

at this point, tom didnt care if he died. after all, he did have a death wish.

checking the digital clock, it was now 10:37. even though it was not really late, tom needed rest.

just minutes later the dream world consumed tom, leaving him in a deep sleep.

// time skip: 12:36 pm // pov change //

tord sat at his desk, waiting for a call from tom. swiveling from side to side, tord stared at the phone and tapped his pencil against his notepad, impatiently. tord usually never cared as much for the callers as he did with tom, why was that?

did tord feel something other than friendship for tom? surely no, tord had just met tom a couple days before.

tord did enjoy talking to tom, though.

tord was snapped out of his thoughts by his boss yelling, "(lastname), get the damn phone!"

his boss usually called tord by his last name. the boss said it 'fit him more than tord did.'

tords hands snatched the telephone as he held it to his ear.

"tom..?" tord said, knowing thats not the way to greet the caller. it might not have been him. but he knew this was tom.

"i promised." said the familiar british boys voice on the other end of the line.

"yeah, you did." tord added, unsure of what to say.

"i was thinking," tom stammered, "i want to meet you."

tord was surprised, yet not stunned by this statement. this hadn't happened before, but tord had a gut feeling.

"today. i want to meet you today." tord said, in a demanding kind of way.

even though tord couldnt see tom, tord knew tom was smiling. he knew when people were smiling and it made him smile too.

"i have a place. you know the dock that got half of it torn off?" tom asked, referring to a small boat dock that got wrecked during a storm. it was illegal trespassing to go on it, but it wasnt reinforced all that well.

"yeah."

"there. when does your shift end?"

"i have two more hours. i dont have to work late today."

"sounds good."

// time skip; 2:45 pm //

tord was in his bedroom, standing infront of his mirror. he was attempting to make the two tufts of hair that stuck up, stay down.

everything he tried didnt work.

gel. all eight ounces of it.

brushing it. five times.

shower. twice.

nothing seemed to work.

he might aswell just leave it the way it is, despite how weirdly odd it looked. 

tord was dressed in his normal, everyday attire.

a red t shirt and ripped black jeans. a thin gold chain hung around his neck. he stuffed it in his t shirt.

seemingly good enough, he hopped into his small, trashy 2006 sedan and left for the beach. that was where he would meet the boy behind the screen.

//

tord sat on the dock, swinging his legs over the side. he watched the waves crashing under him. they hit the support beams holding up the dock, shaking it.

tord did fear for his life, but surely tom wasnt aiming to kill him.

he pulled his phone from his pocket and visited his social media(s.) he got a text from his friend, patryck. he didnt care much about it, though.

he heard someone a soft, quiet voice say, "tord..?"