Disclaimer: Being human belongs to the bbc, I own nothing but this storyline.
*Hals POV*
One day maybe, I'll forget what an absolute imbecile he is. But today, is definitely not that day.
He talks and acts like a Neanderthal, leaves his dirty underwear and socks lying around in the bathroom, can't say one sentence to me without being insulting (not that I care…because I don't!), you need subtitles for every conversation with him, he swears worse than a sailor and insists on walking around shirtless and showing of that amazing *cough* I mean totally average body of his!
He just makes me so…angry, so tense and I don't even know why! The insults I can handle so what is it? Anyway it doesn't matter, he annoys me, enough said. Oh bugger here he is.
"Mornin Annie" he says as he struts towards the kitchen, shirtless, again. She glares at him so hard he can't help but notice even with his back now facing her, "fine!" he turns back towards me with his chest puffed out and his fists clenched and puts on a sarcastic smile
"Mornin dickhead!".
I stand up and push my chest against him as if challenging him to a fight
"Well if it isn't our resident caveman, leave your club upstairs did you?" I quipped, desperate to have the last word.
In the corner of my eye I can see Annie behind the bar staring at us with a mixture of frustration and gentle curiosity.
"Well at least I don't look like I'm aving dinner with Queen Victoria, hate to break it to ya mate but your copy of vogue's bout a hundred years out'a date." and then he continues his strut into the kitchen even more arrogant than he was before.
I don't let it show but inside I kind of enjoy our arguments for some reason, even when he beats me. I like the passion, the competitiveness and the stubbornness it brings out in me. All the tension I've built up over these 55 years slowly starts to seep out like a waterfall. Maybe I'm mad but sometimes I think…oh never mind.
*Toms POV*
Pacing up and down my room I just keep thinking, Who does he think he is strutting round here like he owns the place, trying tell me what I can and can't do! He sits there in his tweed jacket and his stupid cane looking like an absolute twat! Reckon I could take him in a fight defo! He's such a posh….twat! And I hate his face, it's all high cheek bones. And he's clearly jealous of my stomach, all those years of hunting vamps have paid off! He keeps staring at it, like earlier when I was going to the kitchen, he just stared for about five minutes. What was that about?
He makes me so fuckin angry! It's fun fighting with him though, satisfying. And his face gets all… dominating when he's angry (this affects me in no way!)
You know I might go and annoy him some more! His room's across the corridor.
I don't even bother to knock, I just open the door.
*Hals POV*
For some reason after this morning I found myself in need of a cold shower to wash all my frustration away, the tension between Tom and I does that to me sometimes. Some days I hate it, yet some times I, get off on it. It's so confusing! I'm over 100 years old and I'm letting this idiot frustrate me! I'm a grown man, technically I'm the age of several grown men! And he's…a…DICKHEAD! It's the first word that comes to mind!
Just thinking about him frustrates me as I throw my towel on the floor and put on my trousers. But he's so…Oh SHUT UP Hal!
Suddenly the door opens and there he is, with his muscular, slightly tanned body and his masculine stare and I find myself fighting the urge not to punch him for reducing me to this mess.
It takes me a few moments to realise that he's staring at my chest and I realise I'm stood in my room, half naked.