Clay's Pov
School was exhausting and Clay didn't feel good at all after the small conversation with Elliot. He is finally walking home and when he is near his house sees no car so he is happy that he doesn't have to deal with his mom for a bit. He walks in without worrying if someone was going to yell or nag at him. He walks into his room and leaves the door open. He throws his bag on the floor and throws himself on his bed. He sighs before turning on his back. He stares at the blank white ceiling, his mind blank. As he was about to fall asleep, he hears the front door open. He stands up and walks to his wide open door to check who it is because he knows that his mom shouldn't be home for another hour or so. His eyes go wide as he shuts the door and locks it. When did he get released?
"Clay." Clay hears his older brother laugh. Is he drunk? "Clay!" And now he's mad. "I'm not dumb! I know you're home!" He hears him walking up to his bedroom door. Now he's banging on Clay's door like a maniac. "Open the fucking door!" Clay backs away from the door. "Clay Smith!" He keeps banging on the door. Soon enough he starts kicking the door.
"I swear if you don't fucking open this door, I'll kill you! Mom won't be home tonight so that means playtime!" Clay can feel fear building up but he knows that his brother can't, and won't, do shit.
"Bro." He stops kicking on the door. "Open the door huh? I missed you so much. Hm? I've been away for 5 months. Just open the door for me." I'm not going to open that fucking door. "Clay?" Silence. Clay sits down on his bed. Neither of them said anything for a while.
"Fine, be that way! Just fucking wait. When you come out that stupid bedroom, I'll remind you to never, ever fucking lock yourself in that room again or in any room for that matter." He kicks the door one more time before Clay hears him open his old bedroom door.
"Fuck." Clay whispers. He grabs his own hair and pulls on it "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He hug my knees closely.
•••
Elliot's pov
Elliot loos at the desk next to him, no Clay. About twenty minutes, the door opens and Clay walks in. He has bruises on his face, one on one of his cheeks and one on his lips along with a cut. Elliot looks down at his neck and he also has bruises there. "Sorry, I'm late." He quickly says to the teacher. The teacher looks at Clay in confusion.
"Since when do you say sorry- Did you get in a fight or something?" Mr Johnson walks up to him. He reaches to touch one of his bruises.
"No." Clay pushes the teacher's hand away.
"Did someone hurt you?" Mr Johnson, who always screams at Clay, asks in concern.
"I'm fine." Clay walks away from the teacher and sits down. Elliot's eyes follow him, but he tries not to show any concern, he doesn't show Clay that he is worried. "Doesn't it hurt? To stare I mean. For your eyes." Clay asks Elliot with no expression on his face.
"No." Elliot answers quickly and continues to stare at him.
"Could you stop? It's uncomfortable." Clay looks down.
"Clay. Take out your books." The teacher says strictly, but his eyes showed concern, before continuing. Clay doesn't do as he says. He just simply looks down, with no emotion in his eyes.
