|| Chapter Sixteen. ||

Instructions

Paul circled around Tord, staring at him, smiling softly. Innocently. Tord just stared at him blankly. Like he wasn't entirely there. God, he might look so numb, but he still managed to be adorable. It's not even him trying. He's just...special, like that. Paul grinned, stepping closer to Tord slowly and carefully, staring at him, smiling more, before reaching over, gripping his arm, pulling him closer to him, resting his hand on Tord's waist. He felt the Norsk flinch. He noticed the fear in his face. He always noticed every small, subtle thing in Tord's movements. Tord was just...adorable. It was pathetic. Paul pulled Tord a bit closer until he could feel the heat of his breath, smirking. Tord shifted, as if he was about to push Paul away from him, but stopped. He wouldn't dare. If he did... No. He shouldn't worry about that. Whatever Tord did, it didn't matter to Paul. He's just a cute little puppet held by the strings. Paul exhaled slowly, running a hand through Tord's hair, staring at him. They're alone. It seems to happen a lot these days. Paul's not complaining. He loves being alone with his favorite "friend". Everything about him is just so... So... It's amazing what Tord's capable of, really. He's...more than just amazing, actually. Paul never knew what anything "good" was. Tord was always Paul's friend. They were always good friends. But good things just get better within time. It just depends if you have the luck for it. And by God, it seemed that Paul had the luck for everything when it came to Tord. Ever since they met. There was always something...special..about the Norsk. And he didn't mean that like his accent, his personality, or stupid stuff like that. It's never something he could explain. He still couldn't explain it. But he could explain this. Tord was /his./ /His/ obedient puppet to pull around, to sway in front of the pack. As if he could ever truly lead them as he used to. But that's besides the point. However Tord acts. It doesn't matter how he is now. Not to Paul, at least. Paul keeps doing his job. Keeps the others thinking that Tord is still the big bad leader they respect and distance themselves from. And his payment? Paul doesn't care about actual payment. He just needs Tord to keep being...him. That's all that Paul ever needed. That's all he ever will need. Tord will...thank him later. He has a feeling he will. Though, "thanking" isn't really needed. Paul doesn't care either way. He's just always needed Tord to be around. Never leaving. Never...arguing. Obeying and fetching. That's all he's useful for. Well.. that and-- /Knock knock./ Paul froze. Glancing at the door, backing away from Tord. Great. Just great. Right before he could...do...a lot. Oh, whatever. It doesn't matter, either way. Paul always finds his way to get what he wants. And it always works. He's the second in command. It's always...work related with him and Tord. Paul dusted off his clothes, walking over to the door, opening it, glancing out. Patryk stood there, staring at Paul, narrowing his eyes. "Why are /you/ still in here, again?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, holding a control console. "Just making sure Tord's okay." Paul lied smoothly, smiling softly at Patryk. The soldier sighed quietly, shoving the console in Paul's hands, walking past him. Paul stared at it, blinking. "What is this?" He asked, glancing over at Patryk, who was making his way to Tord, but stopped in his tracks. "Uh, something for Tord. Watch it, yeah?" He asked, not even turning his head back to the second in command. "And-- go do what you need to, sir." Paul lifted a brow, before turning his attention back to the console, inspecting it, turning it in his hands, before glancing at the side. His eyes sparked up with interest, smirking. "Paul!" Patryk snapped. "I'm going." Paul said back, turning his head, staring at Tord. Their eyes met for a single second, before Tord looked at Patryk nervously. Paul smiled, clutching the console tighter in his hands and walking off into the base, passing by soldiers. Paul didn't even look at them, he was heading to the medical bay. Once he got there, he pushed open the door. Yuu glanced over at him, blinking. "What are you--" "What is this?" Paul asked, lifting the console, staring at the soldier. "Uh, that's for Tord, it's about Tom--" "Tom?" Paul repeated, a humorless laugh escaping him, rolling his eyes, before glaring back at Yuu. "Are you joking?" "No sir." Yuu answered, staring at the console. "My question is, why do /you/ have it?" He asked, reaching out his hand to take it. Paul pulled it away from him, tilting his head. "Is it an issue that I do?" He asked. "I-- no- sir-" Yuu stammered, looking back at Paul, who grinned. "Then why can't I have it?" "You can, it's just, it's coded to the point where-" "Why is it 'coded' if it's for Tom?" Paul snapped, getting closer to Yuu's personal space, glaring at him.