It was a pleasant day. Not too hot, nor too cold, and there was a gentle breeze that drifted through the lumber yard that gently kissed Tom's skin each time it passed. He had been hard at work most of the day, happily losing himself into the monotony of manual labour that allowed him a distraction from his current thoughts.
His brow gleamed with sweat and his chest heaved as he heard the ring of the lunch bell echo through the trees. Dropping his axe onto the floor where he stood, the young man made his way towards his belongings, a brown leather bag that was propped up against the side of the workbench. As Tom walked, he felt a dull ache in his arm, one that was not painful, but a pleasant reminder of the work he had done.
It was as his eyes looked up he saw it. A friendly smile on the lips of one of the younger lads in a similar age to himself, Eric, who was not more than a few paces away. He had long, thick curly blond hair, which always stuck out to Tom as it was not a shade you would usually find within Bree. He had often wondered how it would feel to run his fingers through it, would it be delicate and soft or would it be firm and wiry?
The young man was forced back into reality as he realised the once previous smile had turned into an amused smirk, though thankfully not an unkind one, on account of Tom's staring.
"You alrigh' there Collard?" The other man asked with a hint of playfulness and jest, a short laugh erupting from his mouth as he moved closer and clapped a friendly hand against Tom's back.
This was not the outcome Tom wanted.
He was quite content to enjoy his illicit thoughts in shame, and to revel in their stolen glances from across the yard with nary a word spoken. Now it was spoiled. There were far too many risks involved to make such a reckless decision worthwhile. What if they were seen? What if they said the wrong things?
"What if he rejected me?" Tom suddenly found himself thinking, a light blush creeping upon his cheek as the words entered his head.
But that hand against his back felt so good, the first welcome bit of physical contact he had shared with someone in a very long time, and let him believe that it might be worth the risk.
So Tom allowed himself to laugh in response to the question, forming a light grin on his face as he delivered a gentle nudge to Eric's side, if only to continue their excuse for physical contact.
"Aye, just wondering why my pile of chopped wood is bigger than yours." He answered in jest, gesturing a hand towards the varying amount of wood the two men had chopped.
Tom turned his back towards the other man, leaning down to open his satchel, as he hid a happy smile in response to the exchange and his own quick reply. There was a chunk of stale bread held within and wrapped in a cloth, a sorry excuse for lunch, but it was all he had, which Tom pulled free and held in his hand as he turned his head to look up at Eric.
"Only because this is the first day in weeks you've turned up sober." The other man countered, his tone teasing yet still friendly. Eric rolled his arm in an exaggerated gesture towards a clear patch of dirt whilst bowing his head with a grin. "Shall we?"
The two men moved to sit down onto the allocated spot on the ground, which Tom now noted offered decent concealment thanks to the workbench blocking the view from the other workers. They both sat with their backs pressed against the wood, legs stretched out and shoulders touching.
Tom enjoyed the closeness he shared with Eric at that moment, the two men laughing and talking about mundane things as they shared ripped off pieces of bread, hidden in their own little bubble away from the world. He wondered why he avoided Eric for so long, how he could of had a friend all this time, but instead he chose to sit alone with his thoughts every day.
Their eyes met, lingering for a few moments that were longer than necessary, and Tom suddenly found his fingers combing through that thick, curly hair he had so often fantasized about. He barely noticed as Eric's face drew closer to his, instead noting that the texture of that mane of hair was not as he expected.
Then their lips met.
In an instant those once gentle and curious fingers tangled, angrily gripping a handful of hair that he ripped back, and his eyes that he didn't even realise had closed flew open. Tom didn't have time to understand his actions, he was even helpless to his body's movements as his free hand made a raised fist.
He paused for the briefest of moments as he saw the fear and confusion in Eric's eyes, but it wasn't enough to prevent his fist from making contact with that face he once adored.
Again.
And again.
Tom could faintly hear a second bell ringing, the noise clanging throughout the yard followed the sound of boots running in unison, but he wasn't sure if it signalled the end of their lunch break or something else.
