Teach me, love

Chapter 18

Tord's POV

Meet Tom.

Your basic, stereotypical teenager with braces, messy hair, and an overall anger issue yet somehow quiet as a mouse (discard the eyes, although they're perfect the way they are as is Tom. They just have a minor discoloration causing the void of various universes to be sighted within, ugh, what an absolute dream it is to look in them). Drinking has seemed to suck his interests in, and as you can see from kitchen counter, the savory liquid has overpowered the boy and dolling him around for dancing to American songs.

We now look back into the past of where mindless me was casually finishing up winter homework in the comfort of Tom's dirty sock scented room. The carelessly tossed snack bags have made an impressive towering pile by the Walmart bag marked as a 'trashcan' and Tom was just barely opening up his first bag of 'potato crisps' as we people here in England were meant to call them.

The teenager had creaked the half of his slim body off the edge, the continuous of this act had trademarked in my brain as a cute little quirk. he had his lanky legs sprawled over mine. I have forgotten the feeling of numbness and then the overall sensations of absolute nothing from the minutes pasted.

He looked happy, so I was happy.

And besides, he looked comfortable and that was just so adora-

"Holy shit." The boy exclaimed unenthusiastically at his phone that was held in front of his face.

I perked up at this notion, "What happen, Tom?"

"I just realized that tomorrow is New Year's Eve."

"Cool."

"And that it's gunna be a new year and shit and how time is going waay too fast, dude."

"Well, that what New Year is."

"And Lance just invited me over for a party tomorrow."

The noises of my clicking fingers upon the keyboard bolted to a halt, the pure disgust and disbelief on my face refused to shun away from show. "And you no going, Tom."

Eyebrows being hefted upwards in a picture of three seconds, he tried to end the brief convo by rolling his eyes and dipping his face back into that addictive phone."I swear to god, if you're gonna act like Edd and like mum I'm gonna-"

"You tell me and you cry and you almost die on street from this boy. Boy Lance bad, Tom! Why you still want be friends with him. Why still want to drink?" I scolded, shit, even feeling annoyed by the tone I have decided to use towards Tom. But, really, if you're going to blame me then you must be deaf to not hear my share of rational proof about that terrible stealing teenage boy.

"Ugh."

"Tom, you act like dumb kid sometimes. I hate when you make caveman sound."

"Ugh." As if to mock, he repeats. Obviously louder, with an unfazed sneer.

The twat emphasized the groan of annoyance louder, as would a child.

"I care if you go, but I'll be worry and want you safe. I want you to live life, but.." I scratched the side of my face, watching a body of crumbs burst from below by Tom. "I don't want you hurt. Or cry."