Forget Me Not (TomTord)[Hanahaki AU]

-2-

Tom had trained himself to never fall in love. He would rather be in solitude than be emotionless. But after a while, he realized that the two were practically the same. It may have been a subconscious moment of realization, since he had now found himself to be craving the very feeling he had sworn himself never to feel. And he didn't even know the boy's name. But he loved him. Every time he saw him, his heart would flutter, his cheeks would flush, he couldn't help it.

It was torture. Yet somehow he managed to keep his disease at a minimum. Maybe it was from all those years of nothing.

Though the steps across the hall were few, a thousand thoughts began to drown him, flooding his mind with negativity. He wondered now, if what he was doing was even sane. He didn't even know if the boy would like him at all. And he was well aware of the consequences of the boy not returning the feelings for him. Flowers tickled at the back of his throat, but he forced himself not to cough them up. It hurt. It was a struggle to contain himself, but he somehow managed.

But as he walked into the dimly lit store, he saw a girl with dark chocolate colored curls- he noted that it wasn't even her natural hair color. She wore almost all pink, and almost too much rosy blush on her pale cheeks. She was leaning over the counter, talking sweetly to HIM. She leaned over even further, gently kissing HIM. And he smiled, blushing slightly and returning the kiss.

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Tord liked this new city. He had only moved here three months before, and somehow in that time, he had actually become quite fluent in English, he had made a friend, and now he even had a girlfriend. Steph was really sweet, though she was quite narcissistic. It seemed to run in her family. He had first met her brother, Matt, who definitely carried the same trait; Tord had never seen him without either a compact or hand mirror. And he was ALWAYS taking selfies. But he wasn't mean. Matt and his sister were both incredibly nice, but quite oblivious. Tord simply hadn't quite known how to tell her that even though he was bisexual, he preferred males. 

It was a lot different here than Norway. Back home, he had essentially been the kid no one paid much attention to. But then, his parents, who, unlike him, were actually quite famous in the area, were killed. Tord had been told it had been in a plane crash, but he knew better. His parents had a lot of enemies, and that morning, he had noticed that his father's favorite gun was missing. He asked his mother if she knew where it was, but she did not. And then they had left for the base. They were the only two on the plane, and his father was an expert pilot, so it could not have been an accident. The authorities had found a crash site, but even though the reports claimed it was his parents' plane, he knew it was not. He could see it was a similar model, a fake painted to look exactly like the plane his father piloted. He hadn't been allowed to visit the base after it had happened.

His two favorite soldiers had taken him in- Pat and Pau. Even they hadn't told him what had happened, but it was obvious they knew the truth. It had eventually become a subject they didn't speak of. For almost two years, they had stayed in Norway while various legal battles went on, but by that point, no one even knew what they were fighting over. One day, Pat and Pau had returned home, and he was told they were moving to London.

Those two years had been filled with unwanted attention. Interviews, articles, question after question. He wasn't "popular". He was simply a piece to be used for more information, gossip, money. And he hated it. So he had welcomed the news that they were leaving. 

At the time, he had only spoken a small amount of English. But now he could speak it almost fluently, though his accent hung heavily over his words. Two weeks after he arrived, he met Matt. He had gotten a job at some pop culture and clothing store, and he was happy.

For most of his childhood, he wore either red or black. It was merely because he knew, even from a young age, that he would need to get used to it. The army's uniform was blue and red for regular soldiers, but the leader wore red and black all the time. But now... that didn't matter. 

Perhaps one day he would return to the base; the soldiers liked him, and had told him he could return whenever he wished, and he would be welcomed.

As soon as he arrived in London, he convinced Pat to take him shopping. He never got rid of his red and black clothing. But he never wore it. Every day he matched together outfits that were more expensive than he would have ever expected to own in his entire life. The leader uniform was expensive, sure, but it was the same thing every day. Tord owned at least three outfits in a different shade of every color; and each outfit was worth between 250 and 750 pounds. His parents had passed on a lot of money to him, but that money had not been used to pay for all of this. Pat's twin brother, Cass, was a millionaire, owning one of the top music labels in the world. He had visited them, happily offering to pay for everything. Pat had been somewhat reluctant, but he wanted to make sure Tord would be happy.

The one part of his outfit that hadn't been a new addition to his wardrobe because of Cass's generosity was the flowers he wore in his hair. He had always done that. When he was little, he would make flower crowns with his mother, then wear them all day as he followed her around the base. As he had gotten older, that had turned into a single flower tucked into his hair behind his ear; a more mature, stylistic choice. But thanks to Cass, he now wore more than just red roses. Like now, with the yellow rose that rested in his caramel hair.

Life was finally okay again.

But he had always seen the way that flower shop boy looked at him.