Tord was mid-sentence when it happened.

He and Tom were leaning against the lockers near the stairwell, half-arguing about something stupid.

“I’m telling you,” Tord said, smirking faintly, “back in middle school I jumped off the gym roof because Matt bet me five dollars.”

Tom snorted. “You’re an idiot.”

“I landed it.”

“You broke your wrist.”

“Details.”

Tom rolled his eyes, about to reply—

Then he saw you.

Down the hall.

Standing near the vending machines with Edd.

You looked tired. Smaller somehow. Edd was talking softly, close enough that no one else would overhear.

Tord followed Tom’s gaze without thinking.

His story cut off mid-breath.

A guy approached you. Laughing. Casual.

Tom frowned immediately. “Who’s that?”

Tord didn’t answer.

He was watching.

The guy said something. You didn’t smile. Your shoulders tensed slightly.

Tom pushed off the lockers. “Hey—”

But before he could call out—

It happened.

The guy made a stupid joke. Grinned. Then, like it was nothing, he nudged his fist forward and lightly punched your stomach.

Playful.

Careless.

Wrong.

You gasped.

It wasn’t dramatic.

But it was real.

Your body folded slightly. Your hand flew to your belly instantly.

Edd grabbed you, alarmed. “Hey, hey—”

Tom’s voice snapped through the hallway. “What the hell?!”

He started forward.

Tord was already moving.

He didn’t shout.

Didn’t warn.

Didn’t threaten.

He reached the guy first.

His fist connected cleanly with the side of the guy’s face.

One punch.

Solid.

Enough.

The guy staggered back into the lockers, stunned, clutching his jaw.

The hallway went silent.

Tom skidded to a stop beside Tord. “I was handling that!”

Tord didn’t look at him.

Didn’t even acknowledge him.

His eyes were locked on you.

You were still holding your stomach, breathing shallow, Edd murmuring something to calm you down.

Something shifted inside Tord’s chest.

Sharp.

Cold.

Protective in a way that made no sense.

He stepped closer, not touching you, but close enough to block anyone else from approaching.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked.

His voice wasn’t loud.

But it wasn’t soft either.

It was tight.

You shook your head faintly. “No, I'm okay.” Softly even kind.

He studied your face like he didn’t trust the answer.

Behind him, the guy muttered, “It was a joke—”

Tord turned his head slowly.

The look he gave him was enough to make the guy shut up instantly.

Tom stared between you and Tord now, confusion growing.

“Why are you acting like that?” Tom demanded quietly.

Tord didn’t respond at first.

Because he didn’t know.

He didn’t know why seeing you fold like that made his heart slam against his ribs.

Didn’t know why it felt like more than just you had been hit.

Like something else had been struck too.

Something fragile.

Something that belonged—

No.

He cut that thought off immediately.

You were Tom’s sibling.

Off limits.

Complicated.

And he didn’t even remember that party properly. Just fragments. Noise. Heat. Blank spaces.

So why did his body react like you were his responsibility?

Why did it feel like something in his system had been threatened?

Tom crossed his arms. “You didn’t have to punch him.”

“Yes, I did,” Tord replied flatly.

Tom blinked. “It wasn’t even that hard.”

Tord’s jaw tightened.

“It was enough.”

The certainty in his voice made Tom pause.

Edd looked at Tord carefully.

Because Edd knew.

He saw the way Tord positioned himself slightly in front of you now.

Not obvious, but deliberate.

Guarding.

Tord ran a hand through his hair roughly, frustrated.

“I don’t know why,” he muttered under his breath.

Tom frowned. “Why what?”

Tord didn’t answer.

Because he couldn’t explain why, when that fist connected your stomach, he felt something deeper than anger.

He felt fear.

Instinct.

Like something that shared his blood had just been put at risk and that terrified him more than the punch did.

He looked at you one more time.

Still holding your stomach.

Still close to Edd.

And the confusion in his chest only grew.

He scoffed and walked away, scared, confused, real.