|| Chapter Seventeen. ||

Instructions

Patryk stood in the room, cleaning up, fixing things that were messed up, all of it. He just wanted to be close to Tord. This whole thing happening with him and Paul is just... Patryk swallowed. He doesn't trust the second-in-command. None one bit. He doesn't think he ever does, actually. Though... Trust was acknowledged. Not anymore. Patryk's going to protect Tord even if it's the last thing he manages to do. Anything to keep him away from Paul. Patryk's /Tord's/ soldier. A soldier for the Red Army. Loyal to the Red Leader. He felt horrible for ever stepping out of line and just deciding not to give a care about him. He swallowed tightly, glancing at Tord, who was just leaning against the wall, staring at the ceiling, ignoring eye contact, not saying anything. Patryk stared at him, his chest heaving. He had to keep an eye on Paul. That's been obvious. And yet Patryk's just now doing it? God, he's stupid. "Hey-- Tord?" Patryk hummed, trying to start small conversation. The leader glanced at him, lifting a brow. "Yeah?" He asked. Patryk stood there for a moment, before clearing his throat. "Listen--I- you can tell me I'm out of line for this-- you can tell me I need to know my place for this but--" He stopped, looking down at the ground. Tord stood there quietly. "But...?" He said quietly, waiting on the soldier to continue. He's clearly hears the worry in Patryk's tone. Great. But Patryk shouldn't just /ask/. He's done that before and Tord didn't...seem to remember about it. Either chose to forget or just...didn't remember. Then again, he hasn't been remembering things lately. It's not his fault. It can't be his fault. Patryk opened his mouth, looking at Tord. "We need to talk. About--" /Knock knock knock./ Patryk's eyes locked onto the door, before his attention drifted over towards Tord. "Sir. You don't have to open it if you don't want to." He muttered, taking a step closer to his boss. Tord glanced over at him, before sighing. "Come in." He said simply, before walking over to Patryk. "Listen, soldier. I get that you're worried about what's happening in the army. But you have a job to do. Stop worrying about mine, and do yours." Patryk went rigid. "But sir--" "There's only so much I can handle without you talking to me about some worry." Tord said, staring at Patryk, before his gaze softened slightly. "Please, soldier." Patryk stared at the leader, before sighing, turning around. "Yes sir." He muttered quietly, walking out as Paul smoothly walked in. The soldiers exchanged a look. Paul smiled sweetly. Patryk narrowed his eyes, glaring at Paul, his gaze cold. He's not going to give in to just an order. Especially not with Paul staring at him like he /knows/ what Patryk's trying to do, only to watch him fail like this is his special soap-opera. He has to know something. He'll figure it out. Patryk looked forward, his shoulder hitting someone. He glanced at it. Tom. Tom just glanced at him with a grin, following behind Paul. ...oh no. This isn't good. Patryk half wanted to turn back around and storm back into the room. But he didn't. He just stood there, staring at the door as it hissed shut, tensing. He shook his head, turning and walking off, staring at the ground. "Ah, Tord." Paul purred, staring at Tord, who stared back. "What do you want, Paul?" He muttered quietly, his gaze soft. Tired. "Oh, nothing." Paul murmured, turning his head away. "Just walked to the medical bay, and Yuu told me to bring a little someone to you." He said, glancing back at Tord. "A little-- Paul, what are you on about?" Tord asked, his voice holding no bite, taking a step closer to the soldier. Paul snapped, and mentioned behind him. Tord turned his attention towards where the second in command was pointing towards, his breathing instantly catching in his throat. Tom kept his hands behind his back, staring at Tord with a soft grin, walking in front of Paul, but not getting in the leader's personal space, dipping his head. Paul grinned. "They fixed your old friend." He chirped, rubbing Tom's back. Tom didn't flinch. He didn't snap. Didn't push Paul. Wasn't yelling at Tord. Didn't seem...mad. Tord swallowed. "I--they--fixed--him?" He muttered, his voice cracking. Paul smirked, before clearing his throat, pulling his hand away from Tom. "Yes, they couldn't have you just--" "I didn't do that." Tord said quickly, glancing up at Paul. Paul stood there, placing his hands behind his back. "Sure you didn't." He muttered, before looking away, then dipping his head. "Well, I suppose I'll take my leave. I'll let you be with Tom." He purred, turning around and walking off calmly. Tord watched Paul leave, his chest aching, wanting to yell back at his second in command to stop. To stay. But he swallowed back down the words, slowly glancing back at Tom. Still bowing. It didn't make sense. Tom didn't look like Tom. He looked...weird. Like a stranger that Tord had never seen before. And yet so familiar.