whoop- not edited of course!

(Tom's POV)

"What happened?" Tord asks, worry extremely prominent in his voice. I stare at him, trying to take in what he said. What happened? Oh, fuck, what happened? How do I explain to him? Oh, yeah, nothing much, just my childhood demon best friend that's possessing me to hurt myself and kill others got angry at me, and now I think it's all my fault that he left. Oh, and I have mental health issues.

Yeah, not happening.

I shift uncomfortably, the throw pillows cushioning my back, nicely.

"Tom," Tord stares me in the 'eye' with a stern look. "Tell me, now."

Ah, shit.

T̸̛̥͖̤̦̤̯̖̯̂́̽̏̅̑̈́͗̓̓̊̚Ę̴̢̪̐͂͘͜L̸̡̟̹̻̦͕̥͓̓̄̀͒̽̾̉͘̕͘͜͜͝Ḽ̵̈́́͗ ̵̭̗͓̥̳͇̖̠̖̻͊̆̏̓̂́̊̉̉̇̿̄̆H̷̛͔̲͑͒̀̈́͑͌̕͝I̷̱̼͆̊͛̓̀̃͋̉̍M̶̧͈̒̄̎̕͝

A sudden, blinding white flashes my vision alongside a sharp pain like a bullet to the head. Oh, Jehovah—

D̷̛̠̰͇̘̰̲͙̭̱̮̯͉̓̂͌̂O̵̡̧̪̤̾͒̃̽̆̾͛̈́̚͠͝ ̷̟̬̰̹̤̱̺͇͚͓́̋̃̇͝ͅͅI̶͎̱̪̘̳͍̒́̍͊̂̉͗͘͜͠T̴̨̹͚̤̹͖̙͇̤̝̂͗͛̈́́́̊͂̋̂͝

"I was cutting myself." I say bluntly, and I dID NOT WANT TO SAY THAT. The pain recedes as soon as it came, the white fading out. I freeze for a moment. He gives me a...worried glare, the best way I can describe it.
"Tom-" he cuts himself off with a sigh. "You can't do this to yourself!"

"Why-"
"Because, I found you, nearly dead, in your room. Hurting yourself isn't the solution." He says with a small growl. "Why didn't you tell Edd? Or Matt?"
"What am I supposed to say? It's kind of hard to explain my 'feelings' to other people, you know." I reply bitterly. I could hear a faint thumping in the back of my mind.

"Just tell them if something's wrong! Is it really that complicated?" Tord elaborates with exasperation. I glare at him. He has no idea. Not a fucking clue.
"You really don't know." I say with an empty chuckle.

"No, I don't. But I would if you would just say something for once, instead of just 'I'm fine'. You can't bullshit your way out of this." He glares back. I stay silent, the thumping in my head becoming louder.
"I don't want to talk about it." I respond stubbornly, the thumping becoming like stomps thundering in my head.

He lets out an exasperated groan.
"Fine! Don't talk about it, then! Be the stubborn little bitch you are, run to Matt for all I care! I am not gonna help you." He growls, punctuating each word with a cold tone. His tone sent shivers running down my spine, the stress on each word seemingly felt like they were stabbing through my heart.

"Yeah, okay," I say in a voice weaker than I wished. I got up from the couch, my mind was fucking storming. I took a few feeble steps, past the couch, not looking behind me. I snatch my keys from a stand by the door and leave the apartment with a slam. I stomp over to Edd's apartment, not caring at all about what happened between us, only a few nights before. I lightly knock on the hard wood and the door swings open to reveal a sunshine-lollipops-happy Matt.

His smile seemed too bright and cheerful for my mood today, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Glad to know at least one person hasn't changed.
"Tim! What brings you here? Edd is out right now.." he asks me with a questioning stare, his eyebrows peaked up in a confused expression.
"I've just been feeling...uh- midnight blue." Code word.

"Oh, come in, come in. I'll make some tea." Matt says calmly with a gentle smile. I give a small smile back and head over to their couch as he gets a pot of water boiling. I'm glad that the damn memory erasure gun didn't delete any memories of Matt and I's childhood. When we were around 9 years old, we created a system of code words to easily tell each other how we were feeling. We chose colors because they were easy to remember, and we could always add more over time.

We added midnight blue in 6th grade, when my dad got shot. It meant, "I'm feeling depressed, but I don't want to talk about my problems." I used that one a lot.

I haven't used it in around 7 years.

"Tom! Do you want one lump, or two?"
"Two, please."

I could always count on Matt, even if it didn't seem like it. So naive and friendly, most of the time at least. He's been kind to me ever since we met. And I haven't done the same.

I don't think I really returned any kind gestures that he gave to me. He's always been the greatest "brother" to me, I haven't been the greatest back to him. I regret that.

"Here, Tam, I got some biscuits too." Matt sets a plate of a few cookies and two cups of tea on the small table in front of the couch. I realize the storm in my head had gone down to light pattering, like rain.
"Thanks, Matt," I say quietly, still mulling over the conversation with Tord. I take the cup of tea and take a sip of the hot drink. The sweet, but not too sweet, taste spreads across my tongue, lingering before it gets swallowed.

"How is it?" Matt asks.
"It's good, just how I like it."
"Of course! I wouldn't forget." He says with a grin. I smile back, just a little bit. We continue to drink and nibble on the cookies, Matt had turned on the telly to our favorite show.

"Orange juice? This ain't apple juice! You tricked me!" We both squeal at the iconic line from the show and continue watching. Once the episode finishes, Matt turns to me.
"Are you feeling better now?" He asks with the ever-present smile. I nod.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" I pause. Hesitant nod.

"Okay, just talk, and I'll forget about it in the morning if you want." He says with a reassuring grin, one that I have become oh-so familiar with.

a/n:
character development? is that what this is called? uh- a look into the paaasst...
sorry if this was kinda short, I was trying to find a way to transition into other parts- that was a bit difficult—