Overwatch One Shots and Imagines

Torbjörn Lindholm- Something Fishy (a)

You sat on the hard stool in the cafeteria. The jolly chuckle of Reinhardt in the distance, he had a very heart-warming laugh that bellowed and echoed through the halls.

You sat opposite Torbjorn, the short man cleared the halls of people with his daily lunch of pickled herring, you were pretty much the only other member of the over watch team that could take the smell, your blocked, stuffy nose helped. He opened the Tupperware container, you heard his belly grumble from the other side of the table. He excitedly rubbed his hands together before pushing the box towards you.

"Don't be shy, come on, tuck in, there is plenty to go around!" A hopeful smile appeared on his face, he always enjoyed getting people to try the atrocious meal so he can watch them revolt in terror and disgust, it was somewhat of a past time and always grant him great delight. You would always get a:

"Hey, Angela, wanna share me lunch again today?" Whenever him and Angela would pass in the corridors, the day she took him up on the offer is a day that people are banned from talking about, those poor poor janitors.

The dwarf reeled back his lunchbox and licked his lips, his eyes opened widely and his nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply.

"To each their own." He shrugged and looked at the fork that was clutched in his short, chubby fingers.

"Could you do me a favour and hold this?"

He leant across the table and help the for, towards you, cautiously you grabbed the fork and placed it on the table next to your own, luckily you had already eaten your lunch, a ham and cheese sandwich. He picked up one of the fish and held it above his mouth, glaring at it in a way only a swede can love pickled fish. He placed the fish in his mouth and pulled out only a fish skeleton, the only thing that made it past his wraith.

You tried to get his attention "Did you ju-... How did you-..." but he was not listening.

You didn't quite know the ingredients of his meal but whatever was in the box was currently dripping down his hairy chin and splashing on the table. Small chunks of fish were getting caught in his moustache and beard. He slurped down the rest of the box with incredible haste and expertise before releasing a monstrous belch that left a cloud of green gas you were sure was visible. "Maybe I'll cut lunch short?" You think to yourself before standing up.

~*~

Written by Aaron.