Tom was accepted into Pat's home graciously. He had only one person staying with him, that being a druggie who avoided Tom. He didn't know why, not that he made any effort to, and the girl didn't tell him whatsoever.
Pat loved Tordun. He thought the name was just something to remember his lover by. He didn't expect that it was because Tom genuinely thought that the dog could be Tord reincarnated. Tom, of course, didn't tell him the truth. That would harm Pat's thoughts of him. He knew he was crazy, he didn't need others to tell him so.
One breezy afternoon as Tom was in the kitchen checking out the food, Pat was out taking Tordun for a walk, at his own request, and the other chick who lived there was getting either high or drunk or both off in her room, Tom started thinking. All of a sudden thoughts just came to him, thoughts that he couldn't push away.
He seemed to see Tord get up so gently beside his own sleeping body in Edd's apartment. He saw him in the darkness walk to the bedside table and use the soft moonlight and pen to write out his feelings; his last feelings. He saw Tord move out of the building into the sullen streets. Breath created white puffs that would come and go in a steady rhythm. Shoes make soft crunches in the snow and left marks; his last marks upon this world.
Tom clenched his teeth together, knowing where this was going yet unable to stop it. He took a step backwards but the images kept coming. Tord nearing that damned police station. With each step he took he felt heavier and heavier, as if he was on death row. The door opened. He looked up. The officer froze. He knew. He heard. He heard the warnings of that frightened officer but he didn't listen. He kept walking. Walking.
Bam.
Tom groaned and shook. He harshly jammed his hands unto his goggles, as if that would help. His knees buckled and he fell onto the floor. He felt the tears and he let them be. He breathed harsh and too quickly.
A sound came to him as if through water, blurred and unidentifiable. He ignored it, until it came back clearer. "Hey!" The girl stood over him, seemingly not amused and with a bottle of alcohol in her hand. "You alright?" Even though she was asking about his mental health, she had no sympathy in her voice.
"Uh... Do I look fine?"
"No, that's why I was asking," she said, rolling her eyes. She moved the bottle closer to him, gesturing for him to take it. The simple gesture turned into more pain for Tom in his bad memories. He slapped her hand away, yelling, "Get that shit away from me!"
She pulled away and looked at him offended and disgusted. "Rude," she spat, setting the nearly full bottle down on the counter and walking away.
Tom sighed then and got himself to stand up. He steadied himself on the counter, rubbing his temple. His electronic eyes fell upon the beverage that was offered to him. He looked at it a painstakingly long time, feeling an urge to take the bottle and throw it at the wall. Yet he also felt the need to taste it again. To feel the burn, the calm, the nothingness that it gave him.
His still shaking hand fell upon the bottle's neck. Without another thought, as if his body was moving for him, he swept the bottle up. Gazing at it for two more seconds, he brought it to his lips and felt it again. The sensation was amazing and so nostalgic for a moment. He welcomed the burn and relaxed. Tipping his head farther back to get more and chugging the whole thing.
He set it down and at the moment felt his whole body freeze. His gut laced with regret. His head spun slightly as he shook it, shocked at what he had just gone and done on a whim. He didn't know anything else, just that he needed the alcohol out.
He ran into the bathroom, stumbling all the way, and reached down his throat, jabbing to get some sort of gag-reflex going. Nausea filled him then left him in a watery vomit, spitting into the toilet.
He gasped in heavy breaths that slowed gradually. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, not caring about dirtying it. Flushing it, he could really relax. He muttered to himself of how stupid he was and made a mental note never to attempt that again.
He went back to the confines of his room and waited for Tordun to arrive home. He would be safe knowing that Tordun was there, and that Tord might be there with him too.
(IMPORTANT A/N: I honestly have no motivation to continue writing this. I've been forcing myself to for the past few weeks because I know a lot of people enjoy reading this book but I really don't enjoy writing this as much as I used to, if at all. I've pretty much left the Eddsworld fandom and have other things that I could be writing that are more important to me, though none of them would ever see Wattpad.
So I have two options for y'all. Which would you prefer me do:
1) Put this book on hiatus until I feel like writing it again. Keep in mind that I may never feel like writing this again and it may stay on hiatus for a very long time, if not forever.
Or
2) Write out the rest of the plot in one chapter. It would be the same as any other chapter but with much less detail. It may be longer or shorter, depending on how much I feel there is to add, though it likely would be longer. Also, I don't know how long this will take to write.
I'm really sorry and I've been procrastinating on doing this for a while but I feel like I need to. Please leave your opinion in the comments, it would really help me decide on what to do.)
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
Bird Eyes || Tomtord
फैनफिक्शनSequel to "Cat Eyes". Tord's leaving was difficult for both himself and Tom. Tord must trek the road that Tom once strolled down, now with more bumps and turns, along with an always present sense of danger. Tom must do everything that he can to resc...
