Hand Guns and Irises (TomTord)

Cherries and Trouble

A/n: Trigger warning!
Tom's P.O.V
I woke up earlier than Tord, so I headed to the bathroom to get ready. I threw on a light green sweater with white overall shorts. I pinned my hair into place with lightly colored star barrettes.
Satisfied with how I looked,I left the bathroom and headed back to Tord's room. I watched the sun rise, a golden glow filling the room. The soft light steadily became stronger.
After a few hours, Tord woke up.
"Tom? How long have you been up?"
I shrugged.
"Since 5-6."
He groaned and sat up, squinting from the sun. I looked at the alarm clock, and saw it was nearing noon.
"Tord, let's go do something! Let's explore!"
I said, smiling.
He did a heavy sigh, but got dressed anyways. We told his mom we were going outside, and headed out. We started to walk towards the center of town, looking around at all the small shops.
Eventually, we were walking around a wooded area, and stumbled upon a cherry tree.
My eyes widened with excitement and I ran up to it, picking some of the fruit off the tree.
I bit into only half of it, being careful not to get cherry juice on my clothes. I spit the pit out, and ate the rest of the cherry.
"Do you want one, Tord?" I asked.
He shrugged, and held out his hand. I dropped the remaining cherries into his palm and grabbed some more off the tree, leaning against it as I ate.
"Do you like cherries, Tom?" He asked.
I nodded.
"I like all fruit, but cherries happen to be my favorite."
We started to walk back to the house, when I heard my dad yell for me.
I ran over to him, where he roughly grabbed my arm. I yelped, but that only made his rough hand squeeze harder. I knew it was going to bruise.
"Thomas! Where have you been?!" He yelled. His breath smelled of alcohol.
"I was walking into town to see what's around." I said quietly.
"I never said you could do that! Get your ass in the house!" He spat.
I did a small wave to Tord before booking it inside the house. I'd have to get my stuff from him another time.
As soon as my Dad caught up with me, the yelling got worse.
I could feel tears prick my eyes, and tried to will them away to avoid punishment. But they didn't go away.
"Crying like a bitch?! Are you depressed, Thomas? Well, do you know what depressed kids do?" He asked.
He smashed his beer bottle on the coffee table, causing it to break into a million pieces. He grabbed a rather large piece.
"Depressed kids cut themselves. Go on, Thomas." He said, venom dripping from his words.
"B-but, Dad! I'm not depressed. I'm sorry! I won't cry again." I pleaded.
"DO IT, Thomas!" He shoved the glass into my hand and steered me towards the door. "And don't do it lightly, otherwise you'll start over." He whispered devilishly into my ear.
I nodded, my throat tight with anxiety.
I sat down on step, and rolled up my sleeve. I shakily brought the glass to my arm, and sunk it into my flesh.
I let out pained cries as I did so. I made a few more cuts before dropping the bloodied glass. My whimpering caused my body to shake. After a little while, I quietly went up stairs and washed my arm off and bandaged it. I went in my room, to change into something that wasn't white.
As I changed, I heard a tap against my window. I was confused, since my room is on the second floor. I looked out, nonetheless, and saw Tord throwing rocks at my window.
I slid it open.
"Tom, are you okay? I heard yelling and crying." He said.
"Yeah! I'm fine, I was just being a baby. Here, I'll let you in. Come to the front."
I ran downstairs to the door, passing my dad on the way down. He gave a satisfied smirk at me, and continued to watch TV. I let Tord in.
"Dad, this is my friend Tord. We're gonna hang out in my room, if that's okay?" I asked.
"Hello, Young Man. I'm Tom's Dad. Pleased to meet you."
He waved us off, and we went to my room.
Tord sat down in my bed, looking at my room.
It was painted a soft yellow, with blue stars on the wall. The carpet was white, with a few things here and there.
"It's calming in here." He said, gently.
"Yeah. I like to be positive."
Tord grabbed my arm, and I winced as I felt some of the scabs reopen.
"What's wrong?" He asked.
"Nothing!" I responded, pulling my arm away. I tried to give a reassuring grin.
"What's up?" He said, taking my arm back and pulling up my sleeve, and undoing my bandages.
He gasped at the sight of the wounds, his eyes searching mine, looking for an answer.
"Tom. Why? What's wrong?" He spoke, his voice uneven.
"When I cried, my Dad got upset. It's okay, though! Really, I was being a baby."
He looked up at me, his eyes hardening with hatred.
"HE did this to you?!" He said, anger rumbling in his throat.
I grabbed his face gently, stroking his cheek.
"Tord, it's okay. Don't get angry! He'll hurt you."
His fingers traced the cuts, rubbing back and forth against my arm.
He stood up suddenly, causing me to stumble backwards.
"Why do you let him treat you like this?" He asked, anger and sympathy mixed into his words.
I could only smile softly and sadly.
"I probably deserve it, Tord." I said.
He just stood there, silent.
"I can't hang around you, Tom. Sorry."
And with that, he left. I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. But I didn't cry, to avoid punishment.
But I sure wanted to.