TordTom one-shots

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Requested by: Ringmaster_studios

Thank you! Again! You're appreciated greatly and I hope you like this! I'm sorry it took so long!

(1) - translation at bottom

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The blinds were drawn, close to glued shut and the carpet in the apartment looked steamed clean. There was no furniture and the kitchen had no cutlery hidden away in drawers. Everything was stripped clean besides the obvious fairy lights strung around the apartment. They were blue and led towards a lonely, white door.

Inside that very white door wallowed a small male, with curly, mousy locks and unblinking black eyes staring outside his window, at the cars in their early commute. There was no honking, or maybe there was and Tom had finally figured out how to drown all his senses. Either way, it didn't quite matter.

Everything seemed to go by so slow but the days passed by like swooping hawks. It felt heavy, just pressing onto Tom's already weak shoulders as if to mock him.

He gave a single breath, signifying his live state, before turning his head to the clock. It was 11:11 AM.

Tom snickered a bit before finally sliding off the bed and stretching his weary bones. They felt like glass. He felt frail and oh so pathetic.

The blue-clad earned a rumble in his stomach and he perked up. Surprisingly, the only act he's been doing was eating, and brushing his teeth, he wasn't that disgusting.

He patted his pudgy self and retired to the kitchen where he was met with the sight of no food. Like, not even a crumb.

"Wow, I did a lot of emotional eating..." He mumbled cheeks red in embarrassment despite being alone to witness his destructive habit. "I guess a walk to the market wouldn't hurt." He reassured himself, hoping his brain wouldn't interject this time.

He hopped in the shower and once he finished off, he spent a good five minutes looking at himself in the foggy mirror. He gave a mirthless snort and tweaked an eyebrow up in amusement.

"Damn, I'm ugly...wow." That was that.

He set off, after getting dressed in extremely conservative clothing that wasn't a cloak, and tried to spend as less time as he could glancing at people, only smiling to be polite.

He was extremely clumsy today and he felt every hot stare melting onto him, making his movements all the less fluid. He couldn't wait to go back home, unwind, and spend another 5 months inside. He checked his watch again.

12:22 PM.

Carefully hugging the grocery bag to his chest, Tom set for the apartment complex ruefully before letting out a gasp and a scared jump when a jet black car veered onto the sidewalk.

The front brushed against two passerby's whose bodies swayed and took off down the street, the passenger seat flung open and a heavy-set man followed them with near to perfect speed. The pair had no chance.

Another door slammed closed and Tom flinched, scanning the car once more.

He locked eyes with a stormy blue eye that seemed to roll in more clouds of hatred, the face of the man stretched to accommodate shock.

"You! You're the one!" A thickly aggressive Norwegian accent broke through Tom's thoughts, only to beat at his heart with the odd familiarity of the accent and forcing his arms to drop the bag.

As soon as the scruffy man set one foot in front, Tom took off the other way in a hyperventilating rush. The boots that slammed on the concrete synced with his booming heartbeat and drove him to desperate tears.