It's Paul. Paul, your second in command. Someone you couldn't trust since day one. He's been smiling at you for so long. Never once could you understand your fear around him. Do you see it now? Do you see what you have done? You /trusted/ him. You got to see what was underneath that mask. You got to see the guilty pleasure, and yet you still let him around you. Why? Why would you do that? Is it because you can't stop it? Pathetic. /Pathetic./ /PATHETIC!/ So that's why you stay here now, doing what you deserve. "Sir." Paul's calm hum caused Tord to snap out of his thoughts and glance over at him. "How are you?" Paul asked, raising a brow, staring at Tord. He had bandages around his right side of his face, though bad, raw burns still peaked through. Paul glanced over at Patryk, who was just staring at Tord with horror, staring at the bIood, opening his mouth every now and then, but then shutting it, not knowing what to say. Tord didn't answer at first, just stared at them. Paul stared back, eyeing him up and down. Him laying on the ground like that? Looking so relaxed? So...calm? It made a soft chuckle escape Paul as he lowered himself to the ground. Patryk instantly tensed, throwing out an arm to stop Paul, but he stopped himself. "I can take him to the--" He started. "Now, there's no reason for that." Paul said calmly, running a hand through Tord's hair. Patryk stared, his breathing quickening slightly. "Then why'd you want--" "Just go get the supplies." Paul hummed. "Bandages. Get bandages and--" "I know what I need for that!" Patryk snapped. "Good. Go get it." Paul said, staring at Tord. Tord avoided eye contact. Patryk stared at Paul for a second longer, before exhaling shakily, turning on his heel and storming off. Paul didn't move his attention from Tord. Beautiful. Tord didn't look at Paul. Didn't go to stop anything. He never did. He never could. Was he scared? If so...Paul couldn't understand why.. Tord just laid there, staring at the ceiling. It didn't help the raw, aching, gnawing pain. But it did distract. That was the plan. A good plan. So what if he had just-- ...oh, he couldn't even bother to finish the thought. It wouldn't actually help anything, It would just make the pain feel worse sooner or later. And with Paul just... Tord flinched, sitting up quickly and sliding away, ignoring how his head had started to pound. Paul glanced at him, blinking like he didn't know what he just did, but gave a knowing grin, reaching out an arm, grabbing Tord's slowly, gently. Almost comforting. /Almost./ Paul could never be comforting without trying to be. Not to Tord. Then again, it was always like that. Even when they were younger, even when some people might've just shrugged off the "Red Army" as "Redeux Biotechnology." They could never know it'd turn out like this. Hell, Tord didn't even know. Hiding behind this 'Red Leader' mask? It's not doing anyone any good. It never did anyone good. It's just something to do to make himself seem like a bigger, powerful, more scary man than he is. He's not what he thinks he is. He's pathetic. This entire thing is pathetic. He should've just quit when he still could've. Now he's stuck here. Broken. An excuse of a big, strong leader. What has he done? ...He needs to do something about it. Something like k- "Boss." Patryk came back in, holding medical supplies, which was really just a few bandages and aIcohol wipes. Paul turned his head, his smile vanishing, standing up, dusting his outfit off. "Thank you, Patryk. That's all. You should go do your work." "What? No- I should stay!" Patryk snapped back, looking at Paul, then glancing at Tord desperately. Tord stayed quiet, glancing in-between the two soldiers. Both of them want something. Just one of them wants something more comforting. However, the other..? Tord let his gaze go to Paul. Paul kept staring at Patryk, noticing the way he looked at the Leader, and shook his head. "No, don't look at him. I'm telling you what to do." "But you're not our /leader/.You can't just tell me what to do." "And yet I can. I'm the second in command. If Tord's not going to lead and give you orders, somebody has to." "And that somebody is you? I'm not leaving!" Patryk hissed, taking a step closer to Paul. Tord slowly stood up, walking carefully over to Patryk, who glanced at him with that desperate look full of concern. Praying to stay. Worried. Caring. Paul stood there, glancing at Tord, before grinning. "You should leave, Patry-" "Shut up, Paul." Tord growled quietly. Paul instantly went quiet, staring at Tord. Did he just-? Patryk stared at Tord, smiling slowly, reaching out a hand, but stopping himself an inch from Tord's shoulder, staring at him, waiting for an answer. But hope was decreasing as Tord's expression remained indifferent. "Go do your work, soldier." Tord muttered quietly, lowering his head, resting his hands behind his back. Patryk stared at him quietly, not moving, his breathing hitching slightly.
(continued) "I'm pretty sure you have things to do, yeah? Didn't you have to check in on Tom and talk with Yuu?" Tord continued, raising a brow. Patryk lowered his attention towards the ground, clearing his throat to keep his composure. "Right." He mumbled, turning and walking off. Paul watched him, before looking at Tord, smiling. "So!" He chirped. "So?" Tord gave his second in command a glare. Paul wasn't fazed by the glare, just grinned, moving closer to Tord, grabbing him by the shoulders. "I think we have work too, yeah?" he hummed, his voice almost a purr, completely forgetting about what Patryk had brought in. Or just ignoring it. Whether he liked it or not, this is how it was going to be. Fear from somebody like you. And a guilty pleasure for someone like him. You're doing this to yourself. You deserve everything that comes to you.
