Hermitcraft Oneshots

Love letters

Tw for abuse

I feel like a description would ruin it so I won't put one lol.

———
It was cold outside, but as Grian sat here, holding his notebook, the cold couldn't touch him.

The mean words that spilled out of his friends and families mouthes couldn't touch him.

He was curled up under his bed, holding his black spiral notebook close, and he tried to think happy thoughts.

As the banging on his door shook the hinges, his breathing slowed. His heart beat in his chest.

The door broke open, and the cold spilled in.

His father stomped inside, and Grians mind went blank. All he could think of was protecting the notebook.
———

How long had it been? Who knows. Who cares. His head hurt. Everything hurt.

He was covered in cuts and bruises, his breaths were labored. Torn bits of paper laid around him, as his puffy red eyes tried to take in the sight.

All of his hard work, ruined in one fell swoop. He couldn't stay here any longer.

He found the strength within him to get up and change, he had nothing except for a few items, so he shoved them into a backpack and slung it over his shoulder- slowly creeping his way through his bedroom door.

He made his way downstairs. Once upon a time he may have thought to grab his cat's, but they had both run away. It made him sad. Everyone had run away from this god forsaken household. His mother, brother, cats, and now him.

Good riddance.

Grian carefully looked out into the main living space at the landing of the stairs. He didn't want to be unprepared and have to book it with his father on his tail, and lucky him he wouldn't have to.

His father was passed out on the floor, breath smelling of alcohol.

He quietly crept through to the door, trying to open it silently. Curse his luck it creaked like death, so he just slammed it behind himself and booked it.

With luck his father was still passed out, or if he had woken up that he was too hungover to realize anything was up.

He ran as quick as his short and scrawny legs could take him, he didn't even really know where he was going. He supposed that 'anywhere else' would do for now.
———

After a few minutes of running he slowed his pace to a walk, realizing he was near his friends house. It was late.. but he knew his friends sleep schedule was less than perfect.

He walked for a few more minutes, trying to process what had just happened. As he walked up to the door, the full weight of what he did set in. His eyes started to water up, already puffy and red form before, so when he tried to wipe them away it hurt to touch.

He rang the doorbell, cupping his elbows and rubbing the coarse fabric of his sweater against his skin.

A tall man with jet black hair and a moustache answered, and upon seeing the state his friend was in immediately offered a hug.