Crimson Red-A TomTord Fanfic

Here at Last

Chapter 15

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Tom's POV

He stops abruptly on the side of the road, several paces down the road from the final destination with the excuse he can't go any farther. I'll have to walk all the way up the hill to the place with all my bags. Great. This plants an unsettling feeling in my chest as I clutch Susan in my hand and lift my luggage out of the back.

Leif nods the whole time, mumbling something in Norwegian I definitely can't understand as I dig into my hoodie pocket for my card.

He motions for me to swipe it on a portable electronic device and I sign my name with the electronic pen, frowning.

Regretting this just a little, I lift my bags up and start up the hill, never looking back at the taxi, which I know has already left by the time I'm one tenth of the way up.

I know where I'm going, because I can see the slick towers of the building rising high and brushing the clouds over the trees, some yards away.

Minutes later...

I arrive at the rust encrusted gates that trap the mansion and peer through the thin spaces between the bars, staring straight at the door. I'm so nervous I feel puddles forming on my skin underneath the hoodie. I wonder who's going to be the one to greet me at the entrance, or for starters, get me on the other side of the fence.

I wait there, gathering up my nerves, breathing heavily.

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Tord's POV

I know he's coming. I keep having fragmented memories of my dream, tears stinging the backs of my eyes.

I know I told him not to come, but I've been wondering when he'd show up. My plan mustn't be stalled any longer and I need him for it.

I sit at the kitchen counter, watching the minute hand tick by while taping my fingers on the marble countertop wearing a pair of pastel blue shorts, a white tank top, and knee-high socks patterned with smiley white clouds floating in a baby blue sky. I smile down at my socks, thankful Pat and Paul are away shopping, and it's a Saturday, so I have the day to myself.

After some time mulling over this whole Tom situation, I decide to give it a rest, get up from the counter, and explore the mansion. After all, most of the rooms are empty and unused.

I run down the main hallway connecting the west side of the building to the east, and stop at the perfectly square glass pane that overlooks the entrance courtyard, catching the shape of a figure shrouded in purple by the gates.

I squint my eyes and look more closely, despite knowing who it is. My stomach drops as I run back down the hallway, reach the end of the stairs, and pause on the landing by the front door. I can feel my heart pounding. I take a breath, slowly moving to the door, my socks scratching against the uneven wooden planks that make up the floor.

Gritting my teeth, I burst out the door in my shorts and socks and run to the gate, key pressed against my fingers. I haven't seen him in so long, and the sight of him makes my heart catch fire. He stares at my socks without even taking a glimpse of my face, hiding his smile. He seems as nervous as I am, maybe even more.

I know I should look angry, or at least embarrassed, but I can't help but be a little friendly for once.

I unlock the gate, fingers running anxiously over the lock, and crack it open.

He moves his head up to look at me, guitar tucked under his arm, bags clutched between his fingers, hood down and discarded. His hair is messy.

"You're not mad..." he starts, looking around. "that I came here to bother you right after you left to get away from me?"