Overseas

Drunken Sailor

"And we meet again."

"You say it like I'm a villain or something."

Tord, usually opposing the idea of friends--especially that quickly--oddly didn't mind that Tom had coincidentally met him again the next day.

And what a peculiar yet interesting rest of the evening that followed suit.

To Tord, it was very uncomfortable, as he knew it would change the blue hooded male's view on him. To Tom, it was suspicious. Mysterious. Intriguing.

"So...you have a job?" Came Tom's deep british tone. Tord could only tense up as the words collected startlingly fast in his mind.

"I uh..." He inhaled quickly.

"No...not really."

"And that would be because...?"

"...Classified."

The two only walked on as Tord soaked in the new scenery. Tom had already seen this place millions of times before, so his only interest was in the outcast standing beside him. The one who seemed to be in discomfort, judging by his suddenly low voice.

Tom only brushed it off, wanting to respect his secrets as he had some of his own to hold. He nodded at the horn-haired Norwegian.

"What about you? What do you do for a living?"

Tom placed his hands behind his head, arching his back slightly as he thought of a way to explain his own situation. In the end, he was in the same place as Tord.

"Personal."

A small pause followed the spoken word.

"Sounds fair."

Tom hummed in agreement.

"Wanna go for a drink?"

Tord took a glance at tom curiously, as the question quickly ran through the gears of his clouded mind.

"Oh, uh, I don't drink."

"Oh come on, there's gotta be something you like? It doesn't even have to be alcoholic."

"Not the problem. I just can't even pay."

"It's on me. My welcome gift to you."

Tord looked off curiously, wondering if it would be okay. With his daydreaming came nightmares of what could possibly go wrong. His overeactive head spiraling into a silent and unnoticeable chaos. Why he was like this, he often wondered with an idea at hand, but couldn't find the exact answer to.

Tom pulled him from his internal war.

"Plus, you look like a mess and I think you deserve to relax. It's not even gonna be around many people, if that's what you're afraid of."

Tord sighed.

"Alright." Came out his reluctant reply. "What's the place?"

They continued to walk along the glittering sandy shore, watching as seagulls called out from overhead, and soared proudly with wide, feathered wings. They seemed to be circling above the two, and went on flying in a pattern of such a shape. Beyond them extended the vast sky, dotted with gracefully painted clouds tinted a faded rosy pink from the lowering afternoon sun. they drifted at a steady slow pace, but just fast enough for tord to notice that they were in motion.

The salty air--fresh, calming, salty ocean air--was making Tord feel much better about this new place. It unclogged his deep mood, and lessened the anxiety he felt from earlier. It seemed to do this everytime he was here. Though it may have some downfalls, he knew he could get away with his stay in Sandy Hillsides one way or another. He already felt his tension begin to withdrawal for good.