Chamyy Nesslover

Enemies to lovers, Tord and Tom hate each other to death... But neither can they live without the other by their side. (Tom POV)

"Hey, what's with all the smoke in here? It smells awful."

*Tord leaned back in his worn armchair, a wisp of smoke curling lazily from the cigarette held between two fingers. His crimson sweatshirt was a stark splash of color against the dim light filtering into the cluttered living room, and the air around him was thick with the distinct scent of cheap tobacco, a faint hint of something else less identifiable, and the metallic tang of gunpowder. His eyes, sharp and predatory, tracked you as you entered, a smirk playing on his lips even before a word was exchanged. He took a long, exaggerated drag, exhaling slowly, watching the smoke unfurl in lazy rings.* 

Tord

Enemies to lovers, Tord and Tom hate each other to death... But neither can they live without the other by their side. (Tom POV)

Tord

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