Archive of Our Own ^beta

Tord believes it hurts to love.

It’s already hard enough having to see Edd every day. Having to look at him. Having to hear him. Having to talk with him. Having to interact with him in general.

Just- god. His smile that never fails to warm Tord's heart. His laugh that only intensifies the tingling feeling in his stomach, often flustering the Norski. Just- everything about him. Everything about Edd, Tord loves. He just wants to lean closer to the boy, wrapping his arms around him, letting him know how much he loves him-

God.

He really is in love, isn’t he?

Maybe, just maybe, it could have been possible to win the brunette’s heart. If the Norski tried his utmost hardest, it probably would have been possible. But of course, Tord has to ruin everything.

After he came back. After nearly eight years. He ruins his chance to make everything right again just because of a stupid army that he would regret even being the leader of.

Everyone’s hurt. Including Tord. Some physically, Some mentally. Some both. Tord happens to be hurt in both ways. He’s positively in agony. Of course, it hurts when he gets his burns and cuts treated. Just his luck; some are infected. It’s going to be hell trying to take care of them. It’s pretty safe to say that the entire process of his wounds healing is going to be painful. Perhaps it will be the most painful thing in his life.

He’s wrong.

The pure hell comes when he’s trying to sleep. He just

He can’t

Stop

Thinking

About

Edd.

He tosses and turns. He tries to block his thoughts out. He even tries to inflict physical pain on himself to make it stop.

But

It
Just

Won’t.

He can’t get the image of the horrified look on Edd’s face. How betrayed he looked. His eyes welling up with tears.

“But I thought- I thought we were friends.” the brunette had choked out, looking up at the other male in his giant robot with pleading eyes.

It completely tore his heart apart. But Tord had replied with a menacing cackle. “Friends? Ha! No. What would I need friends for when I’ve got this? I’m unstoppable!”. It still tore him apart to even think about the smaller male’s reaction to his reply. God. God help him. God, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts. Make it stop. He can’t get the image of Edd crying out of his head. His love. The one most dear to him. The one he wishes to protect the most. The one he truly wants to be happy- make it stop. Make it stop. MAKE IT STOP.

It’s early morning. And Tord has not slept a wink.

Of course, Pat and Pau are worried for his mental state. They follow their leader all day, asking questions every now and then, asking if he’s alright, if he needs to rest, etc etc. Tord would usually be annoyed by the amount of attention; however, today, he’s almost glad of the distraction they’re bringing him.

But night comes.

Oh, how he shudders, burying his head in his pillow. Trying to shield himself from the looming darkness that seems to whisper things in his ear. That he is useless and pathetic. That he is a disappointment to everyone; to his soldiers. To Pat and Pau. To his...old friends. To Edd. He curls up into a ball, on the verge of hyperventilating as his eyes dilate, intensely shaking. God, he’s so scared. Of what? He- he doesn’t know. He’s just so insignificant. Useless. A disappointment. Someone that should not exist. Someone that would benefit the world more if they just died. Vanished. Removed from existence. Dear god, if only someone, anyone would save him from these thoughts.

But no one is here.

He doesn’t know how, but he somehow manages to fall asleep. He even dreams. Oh. Who’s this boy he sees in front of him? A boy with messy, brunette hair, clad in a green hoodie that fits him snugly. A boy whose eyes sparkle like a lake on a beautiful day in spring. A boy with a smile that seems to be capable of lighting up the whole area- no, world. My god. He's so beautiful. Precious. Tord feels as though he’s falling in love with the boy. Again. All over again.

He shakily reaches out a hand towards the brunette’s face. It’s so warm, the skin soft. The boy somehow manages to smile even brighter, leaning into his touch.

“Tord.” the Norski can’t see the boy’s mouth move, but he can hear the word clear as day, the British male’s voice ghosting over his ears like a tantalising butterfly.

“Tord,” he repeats. “Come see me again. Us. Come see all of us again.” his tone is merry, lighthearted, ringing out as clear as a bell.

The Norski tries to reply. He really does. But it’s like he doesn’t possess a voice. The Brit continues to talk.

“We’re all waiting for you. Come back to us. We can be friends again.” Tord wants to reply. To at least say the boy’s name. All he can do is look at him and try in vain to, just- say something. Anything.

And he wakes up.

He blinks, looking confused for a moment. It’s not even 5 am yet. It was just a dream. But- the dream helped him calm down. Made him feel a little more happier. A bit more safer. But the longing for Edd only intensifies. And the guilt. And the self-loathing. He turns to his side, gripping the mattress.

And the tears start to fall.