Dinner at the apartment is always chaotic.
Plates scattered across the table, someone talking with their mouth full, someone else complaining about something stupid.
Tonight is no different.
Edd sits at the head of the table, halfway through explaining some ridiculous video he watched earlier.
Across from him, Matt keeps checking his phone screen like it’s a mirror.
And leaning back in his chair, Tom pokes at his food with the same bored expression he always has.
You’re halfway through your meal when Matt suddenly looks up.
“…Wait.”
Everyone glances at him.
“Where’s Tord?”
The empty chair at the end of the table suddenly feels noticeable.
Edd shrugs, chewing casually.
“He said he had business.”
Matt frowns.
“Business? What kind of business?”
Tom snorts.
“Probably something weird.”
Edd lifts his shoulders again.
“He didn’t explain. Just grabbed his jacket and left.”
Matt leans back, unimpressed.
“Suspicious.”
“Everything is suspicious to you,” Tom mutters.
The conversation drifts somewhere else after that.
Movies.
A stupid argument about music.
Matt complaining about lighting in the living room.
Eventually the night winds down. Plates get stacked in the sink, the TV turns on, someone falls asleep on the couch.
Tord never comes back while anyone’s paying attention.
Hours later the apartment is quiet.
Not completely silent — just the soft nighttime quiet of people asleep in other rooms.
You wake up feeling thirsty.
The clock on your phone reads 2:47 AM.
The hallway is dark except for a faint glow coming from the bathroom.
You assume someone forgot to turn the light off.
As you walk closer, you notice something else.
Steam.
The door is slightly open, warm air spilling into the hall.
You push the door gently.
The bathroom light is bright compared to the hallway, making you blink for a moment as your eyes adjust.
Then you see him.
Tord is sitting in the bathtub.
The shower head runs lightly above him, water spilling over his shoulders and down his chest.
At first it just looks like a normal bath.
Then your brain notices the color.
The water around him isn’t clear.
It’s faintly red.
Not bright — diluted, swirling slowly around him as the shower continues to run.
Tord is leaning back against the tile, head tilted slightly, dark hair damp and pushed away from his face.
His eyes are closed.
For a moment you just stand there.
He’s completely bare under the water, but the surface of the bath hides everything beneath his waist, the shifting color of the water making it impossible to see much more than his torso and shoulders.
The cuts on his skin catch your attention next.
Thin scratches across his collarbone.
Another along his forearm.
Small marks scattered across his ribs.
Nothing deep.
But enough to explain some of the blood slowly fading into the water.
The tattoos across his body stand out even more now.
Dark ink spreading across his ribs and chest in thin jagged lines, branching across his skin like fractured lightning. When his breathing shifts, the designs stretch along his torso, crawling across muscle and bone.
You hadn’t realized how much ink he had.
A faint floorboard creaks under your foot.
His eyes open immediately.
Sharp.
Alert.
His gaze lands on you in the doorway.
For a second neither of you move.
The water continues running quietly into the tub.
Tord’s eyes flick briefly toward the door like he’s remembering something.
“…Didn’t lock it,” he mutters.
You’re still staring.
“…You’re bleeding.”
He glances down at himself slowly, like the fact only just occurred to him.
The water continues washing thin red lines away from his skin.
“Not much.”
“That’s not nothing.”
He lifts one arm out of the water slightly, examining the scratches before letting it drop again.
“Just cuts.”
Your eyes drift back to the water.
“…Why is it red?”
Tord exhales quietly through his nose.
The kind of tired exhale someone lets out after a long day.
“Long night.”
He looks back at you again.
For a moment the bathroom is completely quiet.