"I have to go now Edd," Tom says to his friend, Edd, as the Yuber sits outside their house to drive Tom to the designated street he will meet his new friend. Tom holds a grin as he says, "I really hope the rest of the party goes good!"
"Wait Tom!" Edd says as Tom is about to leave out the front door. When Tom turns back toward him to see what's up, Edd hugs him tightly and Tom hugs him back and pats his back. Edd then lifts his head and says, "Please be careful." with a soft smile.
"Come on Edd, I told you I can take care of myself," Tom replies with a light chuckle. He knows his friends worry about him, even though they know Tom can keep himself safe.
Edd steps back and says, "I know, I know. I'm just reminding you to be safe."
"I'm always safe."
"We both know that's not true," They both laugh a bit. "Well, have fun too though."
"I will do my best Edd.
"Friends to the end?" Edd asks Tom with his pinky out toward him, Tom smiles and he gives out a small exhale.
Tom intertwines his pinky with Edd's and says, "Friends to the end, Edd."
Matt runs from the kitchen toward Tom with his apron and one of his oven mittens still on, he holds out a red velvet cookie and says, "This is for your new friend! You said he wears a lot of fancy red clothes, so this is the cookie that came to my mind when you spoke of him. Please give it to him!"
Tom shakes his head as if he were saying "Silly Matt..." before taking the neatly paper wrapped cookie from Matt and saying, "I will make sure it gets to him Matt."
Matt smiles and says, "Thanks Tom! Now I have to go keep decorating Ringo's birthday cake! Have fun!" Matt then runs off back into the kitchen, ever since last year when he got a job at the local bakery he just can't help himself from making great desserts for every occasion, no matter how small it is.
Tom then waves goodbye to Edd as he gets into the Yuber, he closes the door and the Yuber immediately starts driving. The driver asks, "Sheesh what're you doing on Denson Street that's so important that your friends said goodbye that dramatically? I'm almost jealous of that kind of attention!"
Tom laughs a bit and says, "I'm really only seeing a friend far away from here, they're just dramatic as you said. Great friends- annoying roommates."
"You are one lucky kid."
"I know."
After a twenty minute car ride and only a few mistake turns, he arrives at Denson Street where he says thank you to the driver before the car drives away. It's very dark even at dusk because of the thick clouds in the sky covering the dim sun; of course he isn't afraid of the dark, but only a psychopath could enjoy being outside in pitch black... Well excluding the person that just pulled up to Tom in one of the first cars Tom has seen that somehow looks old fashioned and modern at the same time.
The window rolls down and there sits Tord, he asks him, "Ready to leave, Tom?" The black eyed human nods and opens the door to the car before getting in. The outside of the car has a 1800's feel to it while the inside looks as though it were made by one of the top brands in the car industry. "This car must be custom made, there's no way someone sold it like this..." Tom says in his head, somehow feeling inferior to the car itself.
The horned male then begins driving and Tom almost forgets to buckle his seatbelt from the pure astonishment of the design the car has. Tom asks his new friend, "So... was this car custom made?".
The sharp toothed friend almost forgets that Tom has probably never in his life rode in a car this fancy before until he revealed his curiosity. Tordssen, who is relaxed because the sun is nowhere in sight at this point, replies, "I inherited this from my grandfather when he passed, and since I had the money I decided to renovate it to be more appropriate to the latest style in cars. Why? Do you like it?"
"Do I like it? I would sell my kidney and guitar pick collection for this thing!" Tom says with a "Isn't it obvious?" look on his face, which is funny, since it is and Tord is only acting oblivious for fun.
"I'm glad you like it." Tord keeps his eyes on the road and Tom leans back on his seat as he stares at him with a new look of interest; he knew this guy was interesting, but he wasn't expecting him to be this interesting.
"Where are you from? Your accent sounds kinda... Russian?" Tom says and Tord abruptly laughs, which makes the passenger flinch from the sudden reaction and furrow his eyebrows a bit. "Hey! It's a serious question!"
"No no," Tord says with a few smaller laughs as he wipes a tear from his eye. "It's just that I get that question a lot from Americans, but I never thought I'd get it from another European," The tall male looks toward him with his golden eyes almost glowing in the dark as he grins and says, "But to answer your question, I'm Norwegian. I lived in Norway for many years before moving here; I wanted to meet more people and see new things. I'm sure you could understand."
Tom knows all too well how hard he can relate to that last statement. He's lived with Edd and Matt for god knows how long now, and he'd really like to go to more places; but if you saw the way they said goodbye to him earlier, then you'd realize how much they really want him there, and Tom doesn't have the heart to say he's leaving for a unknown amount of time or worse would be forever. He decides it's easier to just keep things simple and stay in place, at least until he gets married and has a real reason for leaving.
The black eyed male looks back at the dark road and asks, "You've had quite a life, even though you're this young... Actually, how old are you?" Tom looks back at him, and sees Tord's back to safely looking at the road with a little smile.
"Well, I like to say I'm 25, so I'm 25," Tord replies very simply; the normal person might question his answer, but Tom doesn't care as long as he isn't an old guy trying to probe him.
"Cool by me, still, how could you do so much at 25?" Tom asks as he looks out the window.
"So much, as in?" Tord asks with an amused smile, he's having a more fun time talking than he thought he might. "I don't think I've said too much about myself, have I?"
Tom then begins to think, it's true that he kind of assumed Tord has done a lot. How could you not assume? Formal wear in public, hot car, lots of money, probably got a mansion; what's there to make you think otherwise? Of course he could've just been born in a rich household, but there's just something about him that says otherwise...
"I guess that's true," Tord looks toward Tom. "but you just have that aura that makes people think, "Damn, this guy is experienced" without any evidence to prove it. I mean, it convinced me without thinking, and I'm a huge skeptic."
Tord looks back toward the road and thinks, "Well, I guess it's true... I mean, I have seen and done a lot of things in my life; but still, out of all the things I know about myself, I never considered myself experienced. Maybe I just don't feel that way because I've never seen myself as old even after living so long. It's such a simple concept, but it's still a realization that I feel like I should've known many years ago."
After around 28 minutes of more driving, they arrive at the fancy winery. It's a little past a large neighborhood where only high class citizens and their household servants live, and they're not all just humans either.
"I feel like I should've worn better clothes, this place looks too nice for me," Tom says and looks down at his hoodie that's years old now and ripped jeans that were obviously 50% off at Martwal. "I'm screwed."
"Don't worry about that Tom, it's much more lowkey than it looks. Just relax and have fun," says the one who looks as though he were sparkling even in the dark. Tom sighs and figures some bull will happen there even if it isn't a big deal, he has that kind of luck.
They walk into the place and the area actually seems pretty casual even though the ceiling is high and the room automatically tricks you into thinking it's the size of a gala. Tom can imagine if he were working all day at some rich person's house he'd want to come here often like some of these poor people probably do.
Tord points to the bar and says, "Let's get some drinks over there, the stools are super comfortable." Even from all the way at the entrance you can't help but notice the large doorway next to it where a large man in black stands still, protecting whatever is inside.
The two walk over to the bar and sit down; Tom gets a surprised look when he finds out that the stools really are comfortable, especially for a three legged one. The experienced friend holds up two fingers and says to the Bartender, "Two glasses of red wine please."
"Actually, I would like a shot of whiskey if that's cool," Tom says to Tord and is returned with a small smile; it's the first time someone spoke up to a decision he made. Tom's really making him think today.
"On second thought, we'll have a glass of red wine and a shot of whiskey," the fan of red says to the Bartender and is given a gentle nod as a response from the suited worker.
The bartender places down their glasses and asks Tordssen, "Would you like a tip of Red Syrup?" which Tom pays no mind to the unfamiliar phrase since he's not cultured in fine wines and figures it's some sort of fancy alcoholic topping he's not aware of.
"I would love that," Tord replies to the professional drink mixer and the man then picks up a black spray bottle with a red strip wrapped around it from under the counter, then proceeds to squirt a bit of the mystery substance into the yellow eyed man's glass. "Thank you very much." The bartender responds with a small nod and places the bottle back under the counter before walking away.
Even when Tom receives his whiskey, he still can't stop glancing at the guarded door a bit too close to them. He hasn't gotten a chance to at least look in from the outside to see what is making him so unnerved about it, he figures this might be a good time to ask his friend before he decides to get wasted.
"Hey Tord," the black eyed male says as he turns his head toward his buddy, who has already taken a sip of his wine. The pointy eared man looks toward Tom who sits right next to him, his attention fully focused on him. "I was wondering what's in the room that the security guard is very closely watching?"
Tord almost forgets about the room as he lets out a surprised, "Oh!" and places down his wine to explain. "It's a party room for VIP members and their guests to attend, they hold extravagant events in there every month."
"Is there a party happening right now?" Tom asks. "The guard looks pretty intense."
"No no, sometimes VIP Members hang around there on regular days as well if they're bored. There's usually a visitor limit on the room around now though, so even I'm a bit curious as to why the guard is so tensed up. Still, it isn't our business, so we shouldn't intrude," Tord then takes another sip of his delectable drink.
Tom knows now what the room is about, but yet, he still is very on edge about it all. After a deep breath he decides to relax, he figures it's just him being nervous about being in a town far out of his league.
The blood hooded man looks down at his drink and says in his head, "Fuck it, I'm just gonna down some good shit until I forget I even have a brain." Tom then proceeds to down several types of hard liquor, to the point even the bartender is impressed.
After many drinks and a few curses toward the bartender that everyone just finds funny, the amused friend begins silently listening to Tom's shit faced stories that never reach a proper conclusion or really an ending at all. Tord's actually having quite a blast watching his new buddy act hysterical from the influence of alcohol.
"And then my grandma began crapping from the smell of the microphone, it was just too musky for-" Tom stops talking and starts wheezing, which his contagious laughter makes Tord chuckle every time.
The drunk male places his cheek on his arm, his eyes struggling to stay open as he slightly drools on to the bar counter. Tord figures it's time to bring his friend home, which he might just drive him all the way to his house since he has the time anyways.
As the well dressed man starts to get up, Tom catches his attention, "Hey Tord..." which Tord looks toward him as he freezes in place to listen. "I love you."
The usually pale man's face and ears very slowly blush a saturated red, as he feels a warmth in his chest. He usually doesn't ever get flustered by these things, so he decides to ignore it and say, "L-let's get you home, Tom..."
Tord then lifts his almost unconscious friend onto his back and says to the bartender, "Put that all on to my tab, good sir." then turns and walks out the door. He places Thomas into his car and puts his seatbelt on for him before sitting in the driver's seat.
The nocturnal man exhales before going to put on his own seatbelt, but then realizes that this would be the perfect time to taste the blood that interested him in the first place. Of course he had been planning to do so this entire time, but he had completely forgotten until now.
Tord looks toward the passed out man in the passenger seat, who is now dead asleep and in perfect position for the driver to just lean over and swiftly bite his neck for a quick taste. The male in red tries not to think about anything as he sits up in his seat and holds on to Tom's shoulders to make sure it's a clean, stable bite. He closes his eyes and leans in only a inch away from Tom's tender neck with his fangs prepared to grasp the flesh, but before his teeth and the man's neck can make contact, the quote instantly comes back to his head... "I love you."
His body then freezes in motion before he slowly but surely closes his mouth, he opens his eyes and realizes he doesn't feel as hungry as he did just a second ago.
He pulls back and slumps back in his chair, his fluster then kicks in as he covers his eyes with his arm and his entire head flushes with the same color as his clothes. His embarrassment then hits as he finally admits to himself that what he's feeling whenever he's around Tom isn't illness...
Tord lowers his arm with furrowed eyebrows as he says to himself, "Goddamnit..!" in a frustrated whisper. He then grabs the wheel and hits the gas, surpassing the speed limit in the first ten seconds of driving out of pure emotion...