.... Something bad happened. Something bad that can't be explained. Something that feels like raw, sore, pain. Something that didn't go away like it should've. And yet...you can't put your finger on it. It's just a feeling that's pulsating in your mind. It's screaming something's wrong. Something worse is going to happen, it's just within time. It's on the tip of your tongue, yet you can't remember who did it, when it happened. Recently? Yesterday? Last year? Maybe it's just that soreness that comes back every now and then. However, that's not the case. ... "Sir." Patryk said, walking towards Tord in just a few quick, long strides, his hands behind his back. Tord glanced over. The hallways were still. Dark. Empty. Silent, other than the sound of both of the men breathing. Tord dipped his head slightly, before turning his head away, looking around. When was he here again..? 'Didn't I come with someone?' He thought, narrowing his eyes. "Where's Paul?" Patryk asked, taking a step closer, the sound of his boot seeming to echo through the hallway. Tord paused, looking back at the soldier. 'Paul. Right, Paul was the one who came with me. Led me here.' "He left." He said. Patryk exhaled through gritted teeth, muttering something under his breath, before reaching out, grabbing Tord's arm, staring at it for a moment, shaking his head, and turning. "C'mon." Tord instantly started walking the moment Patryk did, staring at his arm where he was holding, half tempted to tug away. But he didn't. He didn't need to. Patryk was no threat. He never was. He took a quiet inhale, exhaling through his nose. "Pat." Tord said quietly. "Yeah, boss?" "Is Paul..." Patryk instantly stopped, making Tord bump into him slightly. He turned his head quickly, blinking. "Is Paul what?" Tord shut his mouth, staring at Patryk for a few minutes, before swallowing. His chest felt tight. 'Don't talk about it.' He told himself. He just smiled, slowly pulling away from Patryk. "Nevermind. Where are we going...?" Patryk's arm instantly went down to his side, his chest heaving, before he shook his head, turning away, continuing to walk. Tord stood there for a few seconds, before walking behind him. "We're just...heading somewhere. Somewhere that I think you'll actually relax." "What does that mean?" Tord asked, raising a brow, following at a distance. Patryk sighed quietly. "Look, is Paul...acting weird to you?" "..." Tord's breathing hitched. "No." He answered quickly. "...He's not? Are you sure?" "Yeah. He's just been acting a bit more cheerful recently, and there's nothing wrong with that, is there?" "For someone usually so mean and gruff, you don't think that's /weird/?" Tord stopped mid-step, glancing at the ground for a second. "I suppose it would." "...Look. I was going through work you were supposed to be getting done, and you never had to leave your office. It's just stacks of paperwork. Which means that Paul was dragging you everywhere for no reason." Patryk said, lowering his voice by just a bit, as if he was scared to be heard. But who would hear? It's just them. There's no cameras here. This is a blind spot. Nobody usually comes over here, either. And Paul had left after doing...whatever it was he did. Patryk stared at Tord nervously. Desperately. "You're not going around doing work. Paul's dragging you around like his own personal dog. You're not a pet. You're the leader of the Red Army, and yet you're just..submitting and following Paul around because he said you had to do something?" Tord stood there, his head starting to ache, looking at the ground. Patryk went quiet for a few seconds, before taking a step closer to Tord, extending a hand nervously in a silent question, a silent offer. "Listen, I'm not trying to be mean, I'm just concerned." "Concerned about things that don't involve you." Tord muttered quietly, slowly looking up at Patryk, his gaze cold. "You shouldn't be nosy about things that aren't given to you." "Tord..." "Everything you saw, forget it. If something's wrong, I can figure it out myself. You should be focused on what you were assigned, I can take care of everything I have to myself." Tord narrowed his eyes, pushing past Patryk and starting to walk down the hallway, leaving the soldier there. "I'm just trying to help you!" Patryk snapped- calling after Tord. But he ignored it, acted like he didn't hear it, just kept walking, putting his hands behind his back, his shoulders growing tense. "You know what? If you want to deal with it so bad because you /can/, then do it alone! I'm done!" Patryk called. Tord stopped for just a second, turning his head, just to see that Patryk had turned the other way and stormed off. ... 'God damn it...' Regret started gnawing at Tord. Maybe he shouldn't have said that. Because Patryk was the only guy who made Tord feel grounded. Protected. And now the wall had gotten ripped down. It left Tord feeling...scared. Sick. Dizzy, almost. It started to hurt to breathe.
(continued) Tord instantly turned on his heel, back to where he was walking, walking off quickly, his chest feeling tighter by the second, letting himself think. But all that came to mind was confusing static that never made noise, until it got louder and louder, soon swallowing the sounds around him, making the room spin. He hated this. He HATED this so much. "Tord." He inhaled tightly, looking beside him. Paul stood there, hands behind his back, staring down at Tord with fake concern in his face. "Are you alright?" He asked, reaching out, grabbing Tord by the shoulders, to ground him. Tord didn't even know he was swaying until that happened, but still, he moved away. Paul didn't flinch. Just narrowed his eyes slightly. "I-I'm fine." Tord said, running a hand through his hair. Paul nodded, before smiling. That unsettling, creepy smile that never reached his eyes. "That's good." He hummed, patting Tord on the head. "So...where are you off to?" ....... "My office."
