Finding

(3) Conversation [Part 1]

"I'm not a mind reader, Jehovah," the shorter quipped in impatience and closed his eye as the eyeless man's hand was gently rubbing his neck

"It's been eight years since I've stayed by your side, Commie. Five of which we spent together as rivals with benefits. These five years definitely made me understand how I feel about you. It made me understand how I love you."

Eye widening in revelation, the scarred man was momentarily speechless at such an admission. To be frank, it made him wonder if something was wrong with the other man's head.

After all, this was never supposed to happen.

Thomas Rodgewell was not supposed to have feelings for him.

This is just some huge joke the Brit made, right?

Tord then shook his head to gather his thoughts and sat up as he placed a gentle hand on the other's forehead, "Either you're joking or must have some kind of illness with you right now, Thomas. If it's an illness, I could have your schedule cleared for the week and have the best of our army's doctors attend to you.

To be exact, maybe you need a vacation. A month would suffice, right? Somewhere warm and a lot of men and women for you to mingle with."

At that, an obvious frown graced Tom's face and the silvernette's human wrist was tightly held in a bruising grip. "I am not ill, Commie," growled the brunet as he pulled Tord forward and had the shorter man pinned underneath him.

"But what you're saying is impossible!" Argued Tord as he tried to release the other's grip on him. However, it seemed like Thomas had no interest of letting go.

"What makes you think of that?"

"Isn't it obvious, Thomas!? I manipulated you. Used you.

Heck, maybe what you're feeling is some kind of messed up version of Stockholm Syndrome that made you think you love me," Tord retorted in pure disbelief.

"Is that how you see things, Tord? Seriously!?" The Brit questioned in incredulity and rising anger.

"Yes!" Tord all but screamed back. The action making a part of him feel like what they've been doing these past years were all the more wrong in nature.

An unreadable look then flashed before the taller man's face before it became an impassive mask that gave nothing away. Thomas' grip on Tord all the more became tighter and a warning grumble came from the eyeless man's chest.

"You didn't manipulate me, Tord. You never did as much as you should have those years that I lost my memories. Instead, you were there and did your best to tell me the unbiased truth. Even admitting the fact that we were enemies and the only reason you saved me was because of our history as childhood friends.

You didn't lie to me about not knowing where Matt, Edd and the Resistance were since you were even looking for them. You didn't lie about me and about the things I had done. You never did.

You didn't even make yourself seem like a good guy. But instead, you just left me cold and hard solid facts which you had allowed me to think over and gather evidences to know whether they were true.

You usually kept yourself at a respectful but close distance and would only come closer when I had the worst of the pain and relapses. You've healed my wounds and aided me in fighting the cancer; resulting me to not lose my sight but instead regain it.

You never even had any of your men threaten or harm me. Instead you made sure that that whenever one of them was to be there near me, they were to be friendly and have me feel like I'm not being guarded.

When my injuries and illness were already healing up and gave me the capacity to move around as a normal person was capable of, you openly told me that I could leave whenever I wanted. Providing me with the necessities that I would have needed, you told me I was of my own person and could choose if I ever wanted to leave.

Those two years of being an amnesiac may have been difficult for me but with you by my side it didn't matter. Never really did.

It made me understand more about you instead. It made me understand more about your cause."

Tord snorted at the Thomas' long speech and closed his eye. "Classic stupid Tom. To think that's how you thought of those two years of loss.

I was the way I was because I find it unreasonable and a waste of my time to lie to you. I did my best to send you away since I didn't want to be near you. Yet, you persistently stayed and decided to be part of my army."

"I stayed because I chose to, Commie.

I stayed not because you manipulated me.

I stayed because I thought that I wanted to know you more and why we became enemies." The taller man countered as he leaned down to decidedly fiercely bite down to the scarred side of silvernette's neck.

The Norwegian gasped at the pain and had his robotic arm unconsciously clinging unto the Brit's broad shoulders. "You fucking idiot."

Tom then slightly pulled himself away to gaze at his bleeding handiwork and licked his lips.

"I chose this, Tord. I chose to be part of your army. I chose to be of use to you. I chose to remain by your side.

I chose you.

So, stop thinking of otherwise. I know what I feel and it definitely isn't Stockholm Syndrome since you never even made me your captive during my whole stay as an outsider. If anything, I was a VIP guest and you did your best to cater to my every need even if you hardly did it intentionally.

After all, you were always like that even when we were younger. As much as you'd think and move according to your plans, you would still subconsciously do nice things that aren't necessary for you.

You would just move and it's what brought people near. The only difference is that you'd make sure to keep them up a distance and hardly let them in past your defenses."

"And yet we are here," Tord tiredly supplied as he finally opened his lone gem-like green eye whilst idly drawing small circles at the brunet's back.