sorry for the delay, i was relatively busy w/ finals and then ap exams lol.
in any case, i'd like to remind readers that this fic will contain dark themes. so please do not me alarmed in the upcoming future if you stumble upon on it. i will be sure to mention it prior in case some are uncomfortable with it.
you may or may not notice a change in writing, but that's mainly because i haven't been writing in a while and decided to change the tone a bit, so don't hesitate to give me an honest review about how you feel about it.
reminder that the reader is only a year older than both tommy and tubbo.
not edited.
𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐘𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐎𝐘, were it not for his constant and unwitting stares towards your direction. Of course, you could only pay this notion to his existence as a bodyguard, however, the young boy seemed nothing of the likes of his role. His limbs were thin and built of lanky structure, merely towering over you with a hunched spine that would seemingly worsen with age, you presume.
"Do you know the reasoning for being my bodyguard?" You ask the blonde male, tearing your gaze of suspicion away and back towards the streets in front of you, "You'd think there would be no danger for a speechwriter."
Your arms curl around themselves, danger crackling alongst your skin. The belief that there were leering stares, specifically of one above, was hard to shake off.
Tommy sighs, glancing side to side as he follows after you. His shoulder brushes against yours, and you refrain from jumping at the wintery touch. In the summer heat, it'd been refreshing yet you found yourself coated in an unrefined silver touch. A contrast to the greed of Midas, but neither making it pleasant in return. As if a being clawing from the depths of hell continued to conquer with no remorse nor greed: a simple man filled hollow.
"I don't know much in all honesty. I only do what the Bossman tells me to do," he hums. His pace slows to meet yours, keeping in mind the difference in height. "Where are we heading?"
You look sideways at the younger boy. There's certainly an odd factor to him. If you were to discuss appearance alone, it was certainly apparent that you were of older age. His cheeks were still full, contrasting the thin figure you first encountered, and hair curled as if a crying babe just born from the womb. And yet, having grown somewhat accustomed to Tommy's presence, you felt as if you'd been conversing with a cryptid of some sort. A foreign being that did not fit the suit of his body.
His chin moved upwards, eyeing you with a downcasted look that flashed a peculiar sentiment of curiosity. "Is there something wrong...?"
You blinked, turning away quickly as heat swept across the tips of your ears in embarrassment. "No, sorry. I tend to daydream a lot, so please pay no mind to that," you clear your throat, shaking your head. "But, to answer your question, I'll be taking you home for the time being I suppose."
"Pardon? Home?"
His pupils tremble, and you find yourself growing uncomfortable under his confused and flustered expression. "Well, yes. I am your client after all, am I not? Shouldn't you know.. where I live?"
"Yes, I suppose you're right." He laughs shakingly, bringing a hand to his face as his shoulders tremble.
The corner of your mouth perks upwards. Yes, Tommy was still surely young and just entering adulthood. While still apparent of his youth, you'd forgotten he had only been a teenage boy just a few years prior.
Plus, this formal conversing tone you had with him was rather odd considering you were of older age. Although, you couldn't stop yourself in speaking in that manner. It came almost instinctively. As if speaking to one in higher age or power. You shook your head at the thought, and continued on the streets of the SMP with a sigh.
ʚ ❂ ɞ
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑. It's quiet, yes. Eerily so, and you cannot seem to remember how you ended up woeful. Tied in your bedsheets, interlocked with the thin shuffling fabric and staring ahead at the depth of lacking emotions in the marbled sky that bore at your figure with pretentious sneers.
The darkness laid thick and the crickets that normally played an interlude of sorrow that wept of your exhaustion seemingly remained unheard in the midst of the night. Even the moon has waned to nothing, no presence of the gods above that spat out silver tears.
The second knock resonates. However, this time, you grudgingly push away from the warmth of your bed. A low groan escaping past your chapped lips, the drowsiness lingering. Turning towards the wall, you lean forward as your feet kiss the wooden floorboards. It creaks only slightly under your weight and your eyes crinkle, wincing at the sound.
It's okay, you think to yourself, paranoia easing into your mind. It's okay. Your fingers twitch, stealing away at any warmth.
The third knock sunk in like a last warning before you can cast uncertainty at the sudden frigid coldness of the room. It's firm, but the remnants of the sound are reluctant. Hesitant and doubtful in it's response. "I'm here," you call out, clearing your dry throat, "just.. give me a minute."
Before your confidence can flicker out like a dying light, you swing the door open.
"[name]?"
There he stands, the devilry of the night bypassing the body of a man, avoiding even a single graze of his skin. Stark crimson leaks into the budding pond of blue, his changing colored gaze sweeping by in a flitting second before you can question it.
"Tommy," you breathe out, a huff of laughter releasing into the sullen air. Your hand that remains on the brass knob curls against the object tightly, swallowing down the rising suspicion of the boy in front. "You scared the living hell out of me, I was about to kill you."
He raises an eyebrow in mock surprise, proceeding forward. "Yeah?"
You glance to his moving presence and at the prelude of darkness that bounced against the hallways, "Yeah."
In all truth and finality, you'd forgotten about the boy. You assumed that for the visit towards your home, he'd leave shortly after. In contrast, he'd announce his stay informally and you could find no complaints in hopes of appeasing the embarrassment of declining.
"You never know, hell hath no fury to a woman scorned."
Tommy laughs. His knuckles stroking against your bed's frame with a softness that would rival even the sounding of a virgin's sigh. You instinctively leaned backwards, an uneasiness coiling in your stomach at the scene of his touch. It was only the smallest of movements, but you'd taken notice of the hum of satisfaction rumbling in the male's throat.
For fuck's sake, he was seventeen. Why must he carry himself as if of older age?
"I thought you were someone who was gonna hurt me," you joked hesitantly, covering the nakedness of your skin with your arms. By no means were you truly naked, but in the gaze of a male and especially amidst midnight, surely one would be wary.
The bodyguard pulled his hand away, "I would never let anyone hurt you."
You gulp. The solemnity of his tone prevents you from responding. Like a bloody mouth with shaking hands, he stood in front of you with a burning fever. A heaven's glow that rivalled prophets and worshippers.
"You shouldn't be coming at such a late time," you whisper, changing the subject at hand.
Silence sits between the two of you like an unwanted third part. You could not consider yourself bewitched by his mystifying presence, and despite this eagerness to understand more of a man who had laid at your feet that one sudden afterness, there'd been an overwhelming crave to protect yourself.
He did not respond. The same flash of crimson countered against your halting gaze, inclining you to look further and find the nightmares of cities falling and war rising.
Perhaps, had you been younger, you'd been enamored at the sight of meeting such a foreign being with peculiar eyes. However, with age, the soft glow you once mentioned could truly be distinguished as aflamed barbed wire.
A seventeen year old boy with a craving mouth and a restless hunger. Such danger forged in fire and raised in halcyon winter would only result in walking devastation. You worried for his lover who'd encounter obsessions of a wannabe god. For now, you could only wait until the night is over to decline Schlatt's proposal of a bodyguard.
Surely, it wouldn't be too late to submit your resignation papers?
ʚ ❂ ɞ
Believe what you will about what happened that night. That is up for you to decide.