arms wrap around his red hooded counterpart. nose buries into the crook of his neck, not wanting to move from the warm spot stationed on the couch.
Body weighed down by the artist, his own personal heater in this cold winter weather. Sure, he’d like to continue his reading, but it was hard when Edd’s warmth and weight made things so... cozy? His eye lids kept drooping, dozing for short periods and waking up confused about how he fell asleep. Surrender was given as he felt warm breath on his neck from the artist settling even further in. Edd had foiled his plans once again.
Book abandoned on the couch armrest, Tord finally curled into him, resting his cheeks on Edd’s and arm draped over his side. For real, how could someone that can be such a butthole sometimes be so soft? It was simply the worst.
“I was trying to read.” He softly whispered his complaint; finger tracing circles into the corner of his shoulder blade. “I don’t know who’s worse. You or Ringo?”
