No one cares || Dnf

14. Talking

George POV

"All the injuries that you always brought home with you?", Clay asked looking worried.
"I handled them on my own. It's fine"
"It's not fine! I'm such an idiot! To make my life less painful, I made yours to hell!", he began to scream while standing up hastily. He turned away from me to the wall and let his head fall onto it. He was so angry with himself.
"I've never seen a person changing feelings so fast. That's really interesting", I said softly while standing up too and walking towards him.

He turned and looked me deep in the eyes. I leaned against the wall next to him and put my arm around his back. He started smiling, because I was struggling to do that. "Look Clay, thank you for apologizing and so, but I'm happy that you stopped all that. I don't have to know your reasons, it's enough that you know them in you", I said calmly.

He looked away from me to the wall again.
"Why did I never realized what an amazing person you are? You are completely different from what I had known you for the past two years", he suddenly said.
"Well, when you are beaten up and weakened, it is not easy to introduce your personality to the bully. And would you try to be nice to the person who gives your life the final blow to the gray?", I said with a weak smile.

"Come, sit down. I wanna know more about you", I said while I pulled him to bed with me.

I think the next 2 hours, we just talked about us.

"What happened then?", Clay asked curious.
"After i got it out of the dryer it was pink and totally tiny. My mom thought I made a girlfriend and made a huge topic out of it. You should have seen her disappointed face when I explained to her how it really was." Then we both laughed.

"Ah, yeah, the good old times 7 years ago", I sighed, "ouh, fuck, I- I didn't mean-" I remembered Clays past again and instantly regretted what I just had said. "It's fine, it's nice to hear that you had good times in your past", he said calmly.

I hadn't told him that I had depression since I was 12. I only told him the good things out of my life. On the one hand, I was still very unsure whether I could trust him so much and, on the other hand, he maybe would start reproaching himself again that he had only made things worse and as sweet as that was, it was getting annoying.

"Ouh, yeah, I wanted to ask-", I said carefully, "of course you don't have to say anything to it if it makes you feel uncomfortable or you just don't wanna tell me"
He nodded interested, as if he thought there couldn't be anything that could make him feel uncomfortable. But there was.

"Is the thing still going on with your parents or is it already over? If so, how long?"
He looked down to the floor and swallowed while he fiddled with his hands. He opened his mouth as he wanted to say something, but no words came.
"Sorry, just-", I wanted to redeem him if it was too hard for him.
"No, no...", he said quietly, "it's a bit complicated."
"Do you want to tell me or rather not?", I asked carefully. He waited a few seconds while breathing deep und going through his mind.

"It started early when I was just 10 years old. I can't remember the life before that very well, but I still remember that we were a relatively happy family. My parents never tell me about that time, so I can only really remember 2 or 3 moments. I don't know what exactly has changed and why. I just don't question any of this", he paused, "to make it easier and besides, it wouldn't do me any good to know. It is what it is. In any case, that's when everything started and got worse and worse over time. When, at the age of 15, I met my father's expectations to a certain extent, he stopped violating me. At some point it didn't work anymore, because I was able to defend myself without any problems then."

I looked at him interestedly as he slid back to lean against the wall. He patted next to him to show me that I should sit next to him, which I was doing.
"My mother turned into a pure drinking disaster", he continued shaking his head in disappointment, "I hardly see her anymore because she almost always goes to bars, drinks too much, tears men up and when she wakes up in the morning after coming home drunk and messed up between 1 and 6 am, she has a total hangover and is aggressive to anyone who tries to speak to her. My parents both don't give a shit about me. The only things that are important to them are my good grades, their work and that I should always uphold our rich reputation.-"

I interrupted him,
"What do your parents work? So when your mom you know?"
"You probably know this huge company 'Kolesta', right?"
I nodded.
"It belongs to my father. He's a shit dad, but he's a good businessman. My mother used to be an excellent lawyer, but she threw it away when she started drinking."

He hit his thigh and inhaled loudly, "Howsoever, back to the topic. They don't hurt me anymore. Not for 3 years. However, they don't talk to me anymore if it's not about my grades, any stupid problems, or whether I'm still trying hard to train. It used to be that we also talked when I wanted or needed something new and they had to buy it for me, but at some point they said that I should just buy everything I needed or want on my own. You could say I'm pretty independent ... but not half as independent as you are." He looked at me smiling, like a father would look at his son when he's proud of him or something.

"So we do have something in common, huh", I said.
"Looks like it, Georgie", he smiled brightly at me.
"Georgie?", I giggled.
"It's a cute nickname, isn't it?", he laughed back.

A- a cute nickname?
What?
I started blushing again.

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~1.081 words~