Shouldn't Have [TomTord]

Chapter Twenty-Four

The storm grew and the sky greyed. The thunder that sounded in the clouds was like loud banging against a closed and locked door. It was frightening to hear such booming noise erupt from above, almost as if the heavens were angry and wreaking havoc across the world because of some stupid little thing.

The air smelled of rain and wetness, plus an addition of wet dog somewhere for some reason. No idea why, but that was something that Tom could smell, and it was slightly unsettling. Where is that dog? Is there a dog? Is Tom the one that smells like a dog?

Tom cringed at himself and tried his hardest not to lift his arm to smell the underneath of his armpit. Lord knows that he doesn't need that shit ruining his reputation, especially with Tord looking right into his direction as if all the answers to life's questions were written on Tom's forehead. Going off that, Tord's expression was intense, as if trying to comprehend and memorize every little detail in the moment. It was unsettling, that much is true, but it was more disturbing when the moment came that they met gazes and neither of them looked away. Tord kept a heavy stare and Tom kept looking right back at him with a look of uncomfort and confusion.

It got to the point where Tom almost broke it by speaking, but then it came to his attention that it would disrupt whatever was going on. Whatever was happening was something that needed no words, but instead a gaze so intense that it would send a shiver down your spine.

Tom sighed loudly, breaking their intense stares.

"Dude, what do you want?" Tom asked, exasperated.

"Me? What I want? For you to tell me why you took us to a park in the middle of a rain storm." Tord answered, his mood suddenly taking one close to a bratty teenager that believes they're the victim of every little occurrence.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Tom took a tentative step forward, careful not to trend on ground that Tord would be angry to have anyone on. With this, his plan was to make it where a Tord could feel safe in his slow movements and open up in a way that would provide all the answers that Tom will ever need.

Instead of Tord feeling safe, he took a step back and glared.

"What the hell do you want, weirdo? God, did you take me out here to kill me?" Tord spoke, his voice raising in levels that might be interpreted as the beginning signs of yelling.

In response, Tom glared and took another step forward, pissed off and hoping to anger Tord more.

"Stay back, you ass! What's your deal? I've been nothing but nice to you." Tord speaks again, taking another step to back away.

At this point, Tom decides to take the low road and, on his way, takes two steps forward. To this he scoffs. He thinks about cussing him out and beating him up at this moment, but then he realizes he wouldn't even win. Plus, sometimes the situation calls for at least one person with a brain and common sense, and if Tom was going to be mature about it he would admit that he was the one that was being an ass, while Tord was just getting defensive.

Half an hour ago, Tord flirted and smiled and ran, and now he's backing away and growling commands and insults.

Breathe.

Breathe.

In. Out.

Inhale. Exhale.

Tom started it, it's his fault. He's the one that got snippy. He's the one that reacted poorly.

But Tord was the one that glared at him as if judging him. Or memorizing him. Or whatever. Tom still isn't sure how he was looked at.

"Okay, fine. I'm a douche. But, I brought you here to ask questions, not be stared at like a zoo animal." Admittedly, his apology was barely acceptable, but he couldn't stop himself from getting the slightest bit stressed and frustrated.