Complementary Colours | TordEdd

Tord was in a situation he didn't think he'd be in. He was speedwalking out in the pouring rain, his signature hairstyle dropped down from the rain in an almost laughable way, most likely blocking some of his vision as a result. With his head low, he gritted his teeth in annoyance as he held onto his hoodie and started going at a faster pace, wanting to get out of the weather.
Only a minute away from him was a blue-hooded 'old friend' of his, Their hair also droopy from the rain. Even with his head down, Tord could see the blue shade and started spacing out, slowing down just slightly. He was thinking about him again. How would he react if he came back? Would be forgive him? Yell at him? Call the police?! What if he--  "Hey, watch it!" The other male spat at him with venom obviously lingering in his voice. Tord really didn't want to deal with Tom right now. Hell, he never wants to deal with him. Seeing the only solution to avoid being yelled at, his pace quickened once more and fought through the downpour.

The other male, however, was getting angrier by the short moment. It's one thing to be careless, but not atleast apologising is just aggrivating to him. Wanting to get his point across, Tom swiftly swivelled around in the other direction, mouth open ready to spew out his opinion and pointer finger in the air. He stopped, as if he was frozen in place. After a few seconds, he lowered his hand and closed his mouth, and decided that it would be a waste of time being angry at a stranger, or anyone for that matter. Speaking of, why was he so angry all the time? Did he have something to prove, or was it just the years of sexual tension piling up on him? Who knows. Tom again turned around and kept walking. In the rain. Not bothering to use his hood or his umbrella. God, did he have to make this depressing at gunpoint?

---Timeskip---

Tord was almost there, just at the bottom of the pathway.

Good evening, soldiers.

Seeing the cream house made him suddenly anxious, or atleast added to the already existing anxiety residing in his stomach.

If you are reading this, I am most likely already missing from the base.

Deep breaths, Tord, He told himself. Everything will be fine.

Do not attempt to find me. I'm not coming back.

He looked at his right arm and pulled up the sleeve just enough to see the crimson red metal, replacing his entire arm.
That's your fault.

Do not try and contact me, either. The reason for my leave is information only I know.

The physical image of the raindrops hitting the arm snapped him out of his trance, and he pulled his sleeve down again, not wanting it to be damaged by the water.

With me gone you will need a new leader, and I'm giving that title to Paul. Patryk is obviously second-in-command, now.

Tord took one last deep breath and strode up the pathway, getting closer and closer to the brown door.

Good luck.
- Red Leader