Tord was just casually bored, slouched deep into the couch with the TV droning on about things that barely registered. Some assault, some political nonsense, a murder that sounded more like a paperwork problem than anything remotely exciting.

Boring.

He sighed heavily, rolling his eyes as his fingers idly fiddled with the drawstrings of his hoodie, tugging them back and forth while the afternoon dragged on.

Days like this always felt longer than they should, stretched thin by nothing happening and the unbearable lack of explosions to justify getting off the couch.

Then Edd’s voice tore through the house from the kitchen, loud, sharp, and dramatic enough to echo down the hallway.

“WHO DRINKED MY COLA?! I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SAVING IT FOR TODAY!!”

Tord barely reacted.

Across the room, Tom and Matt exchanged a glance. Matt looked entertained, already smiling like he could smell chaos coming, while Tom put on that fake-neutral expression he always wore when he was absolutely guilty. Without lifting his mug, Tom muttered casually, dripping with sarcasm

“Probably the dumbass commie.”

That did it.

Tord tensed immediately, twisting around to face him, grey eyes narrowing with a mix of irritation and exhausted fury.

Matt leaned back and let out an exaggerated, teasing “Ooooh,” enjoying the tension a little too much. Edd appeared in the doorway clutching an empty bottle like it had personally betrayed him, his glare snapping straight to Tord as if the verdict had already been reached.

“Shut your bitch ass up, Jehovah,” Tord snapped without hesitation. “I didn’t. You probably drank it yourself—because you’re a damn alcoholic, isn’t that right?”

His voice was sharp at first, low and serious, eyebrows pulled tight as he stared Tom down.

Then, just as quickly, his expression shifted into a crooked smirk, mocking and unapologetic. He jerked his chin toward Tom. “I mean, I’ve seen the way you go through Smirnoff. It’s impressive. Concerning, but impressive.”

Tom scoffed loudly. “Says the guy who thinks coffee counts as breakfast.”

Edd groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “This is NOT about Tom’s drinking problem.”

Matt blinked. “Wait. Tom has a drinking problem?”

“I do not” Tom snapped.

“You absolutely do,” Tord replied flatly, leaning back like the argument was already settled. “But for once, it’s not your fault.”

Edd froze mid-rant. “Wait. What?”

Tord tilted his head slightly, gaze drifting toward the kitchen with mild interest. “If the bottle was on the counter this morning, you probably left it there. Which means someone grabbed it without thinking.” His eyes slid lazily toward Matt.

Matt smiled sweetly. “I don’t remember.”

Tom pointed at him. “That means you did it.”

Matt gasped dramatically. “How dare you accuse me with no proof!”

Tord let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Congratulations, Edd. Your cola died for nothing.”

Edd stared down at the empty bottle in his hands, shoulders slumping as the realization set in. “I hate this house.”

“Yeah,” Tord said, tugging his hood up slightly and settling back into the couch, “but you’d be bored without us.”

Edd hesitated, then sighed. Annoyingly, Tord was right.

There was a brief moment of silence before Matt suddenly perked up. “We could go buy more!”

Tom groaned. “Absolutely not.”

Tord smirked, eyes glinting with just a hint of interest. “Relax. Worst case, something explodes.”

That earned him three simultaneous glares.

Then you walked in, out fresh from the shower, drying your hair with the towel, you were Edd's sibling.

"What are you all talking about?" You asked.

Tom turned to face you and answered, scowling, ready to pounce into the Norwegian into a heated argument.

"Edd complained that someone drank from his cola..."

Tord looked at you and smirked widely and mocks you, waving his hand dismissively in front of his nose, he says, confidently.

"Ah, finally you're taking a bath"

You didn't pay attention to his comment and looked at Edd instead, answering.

"Oh i drank it, sorry, I was thirsty"

Edd looked at you and smiled.

"Oh! Okay!"