#v;fo

       The weather had cooled. Not that it really was hot to begin with, Tom considered. The summers here were mild in comparison to the boot melting days of summer back home. But even so, the cooler winds that came beneath the threat of a sky about to split had coaxed traders and the like to wander the roads. Thomas himself was traipsing with no particular aim, except he had felt the same, natural itch to get up and move. He could not rest for the life of him, and fidgeting inside a damp Goodneighbor bedroom for another night was more stagnant than he’d ever hoped to be in his life. 

     The pointless rambling of his whims brought him near the edge of what appeared to be just a shallow stand of trees. Though, Thomas quickly found himself fooled when he looked closer and noticed that the murky gray he’d mistaken for the sky at the other side of the grove was actually mist, lurking near the treetops. How far did that little patch of wood go? He wondered. Enough ammo to find out, I could-  But it seemed he would not go off into the dense unknown just yet, for a figure blurred against the dreary backdrop of a half-collapsed house snagged his eye. 

    Metal fingers brushed back his duster, tossed away from his pistol in ready if it needed to be drawn in a rush. However, as he focused on the shape of her just twenty paces to his north, the duster was pulled forward again to cover the stamped handle of his gun. *Hmm*. The thud of his boots was quiet, but not hidden, gravel crunching underfoot as he put on his best smile and pushed back the brim of his had. He’d though his comment a clever one, and would have continued to believe that had he kept any thought at all.      What would it matter?

love notes ;

      He tries to look innocent, hiding a smirk that was itching to curl across scarred lips. Thomas rolls his shoulders in a loose shrug, giving her a sheepish grin that finally took over his mischievous expression. 

         Thomas’ cigarette was burning slow between his fingers, a haze of smoke between the pair as he stared at Maggie. He’d meant it, what he said. Glad you fuckin’ know you’re worth more than that, Mag. A shake of his head was given in response, a grin curling devilishly across his lips as he takes the drink with a murmured thanks. 

     “You wanna wrastle the Ranger, eh?” He says between sips of the bourbon, humming in pleasure at the familiar burn in his throat. 

     “Should I keep my helmet on?” 

Love notes ; 

        He was never able to hide it… his staring. Even now with a radstorm at their back, the sickly green flashes rolling over the skies with a vicious boom; he couldn’t look away. The unrest in the heavens made him flinch, the tremors of discomfort still evident, throat tensed as he swallowed the knot bound within it. 

     The color of his cheeks turned, burning hot as Silas looked over, calling him out. The corners of his lips twitched, curled back into a sheepish grin. It pulled his scars tight, fingertips lifted to brush across them, shy even now after all this time. 

      “Everyday you cocky shit.” He murmurs softly, no malice in the words. He wouldn’t have it any other way. Slowly, Thomas eased forward, slipping off his desk chair, crossing the room in silent strides to where Silas was sat. He stood in front of him as he loosed his utility belt, pulling it away to throw it aside. It hit the floor with a heavy thud, weighted by ammunition. Then left his holsters, and his duster, anything with a hard edge to prevent closeness between them. 

    “It’s cause I love you, you know.” His words were quiet, said almost in passing as eyes traced the outline of Silas’ jaw. He could stand there. Count the freckles. Watch the light change on his eyes. It didn’t matter, as long as Silas was there.   With care, Thomas fitted himself onto Silas’ lap, reclining to tuck himself against the side of the chair.