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(Not my art

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(Not my art.)





Hours have gone by, it is extremely late at night. Tom couldn't sleep. As soon as Tord left the room, he actually left the entire house.

Tom tossed and turned, he couldn't get to sleep. He is much too concerned. Extending his arm out, he grasped his phone and turned it on.

Glowing phone light shined on his face. Illuminating the only light in the room.

Some rain can be heard in the background of the atmosphere. A soft sigh escaped out of Tom's lips as he opened up his contacts.

Scrolling with his thumb, he made it to Tord's contact. Biting his bottom lip out of nervousness, the brit clicked the call button.

He pushed the speaker button. Allowing the unnerving sound of the phone ringing sound can be heard in the bedroom.

It rang for several seconds before going back to voicemail. Tom huffed softly as he redialed.

Tears began to roll down his face as he mumbled,

"God damnit, Tord. Pick up."
"Why'd you leave?"
"I miss you."

The sound of the phone went back to voicemail. Tom clenched his teeth as he redialed for now the third time.

It rang for a few seconds before it picked up. Making Tom's stomach drop when he heard that the Norwegian answered.

"Hallo?"

Tom felt chills go down his spine. He cleared his throat as he kept his voice in composure.

" 'Ello, Tord..." He hesitated, hearing the pinch of his voice crackling. "What do you want?" Tord asked into the phone.

"Where are you." Tom snapped the question. Gripping his phone tightly in his hand now. His knuckles turned snow white.

"At the bar." Tord replied.

The phone hanged up.

Tom shoved the blankets off himself and got up. Grabbing his checkered Vans and slipping them on his feet quickly.

He picked up his phone and slipped it into his blue hoodie pocket and left his dark bedroom now.

Leaving the house with a slam of the door.

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