You and Tord had been living together with each other for about a month now-- you never really questioned his big scar on the left side of his face, or his robot arm, and he never told you, so it didn't matter, really. You weren't too worried. What you were worried about, was how late Tord had begun to come home.

Tord walked through the door, closing it with a sigh and kicking off his shoes. Usually he would've said SOMETHING to announce he was home, but it was 12;39-ish at night.