Promises ||Dreamnotfound/Geam||

05-You're safe with me.

I've added more people for the plot :D

Tubbo is a selective mute, btw

《Tw's:》Bruises, talking of sh, talking of murder, talking of other similar subjects, similar tws from other chapters, mention on vapes, smoking, breakdowns, alcohol

[George's pov]

"Oh, george...."

Clays soft voice instantly made the tears fall. I clung onto his hoodie, tear tracks along my face. His hands slid under my legs, picking me up as he softly whispered into my ear. He opened his front door, a visible shook being seen on his mother and fathers face. I buried my head into clays shoulder, the tears never ending.

He placed me down on his bed carefully, sitting down next to me.

"What happened to you?" He softly spoke, his hand moving my hair from my face.

"I- t-to much, over-overwhelmed." Tears dripped down my face like rain. I wanted to curl up and just cry again, but i didn't at the same time. My mind was a mix of thoughts and emotions, each contrasting against each other in their own way.

"George, i would like you to tell me and answer truthly. Are all of these bruises and cuts done by yourself?" His voice was stern yet filled with calmness and peacefulness.

I shook my head as he pulled me onto his lap, playing with what hair i had left. My hands were soaked in dried blood, and my hair was broken and torn.

He didn't let go of me for the whole night, nor did he talk more about the bruises, which was a plus.

-

"Can i help get you like cleaned up? Your hands and hair seem quite, uh, painfull to say the least." Nerves yet caution coverd his voice. I nodded as he picked me up again, walking to his bathroom. He rested me on the edge of the bath as he grabbed some wipes and bandages.

He walked back over and knelt down before slowly wipping away the blood, taking a minute when i flinched. He bandaged up my hands, which he said i looked cool in. I chuckled at that comment.

"Can i take off your hoodie? Or do you want to take it off?" I nodded and began pulling it off. I pulled out my head and my right arm.

"FUCK." I yelped as i tried to remove my left arm. The fluff and material from the hoodie had gotten stuck in my cuts..

I was unsure off what to do, what to say. I couldn't hear anything, Clay's lips moved, and i just stayed still. My eyes went dark and wet with tears.

-

[Clay's pov:]

I wanted to hug him, kiss him, and tell him hes safe with me, but i couldn't. His eyes went to the back off his head as he passed out, i caught him before he fell and led him down. I pulled his hoodie off now he wasnt registering pain for part-time.

I tossed it to the side and quickly began wipping and cleaning out the fluff-covered, infected cuts.

I bandaged him all up after tripple checking the cuts. I quickly cleaned up the small mess and blood and then got back to him just in time.

Whenever i looked at him in this state, he reminded me of Nick. Nick, the happy kid that's on the football team that'll laugh at any shitty joke. Nick, the boy who will be the one getting drunk and high at parties.

(A/n making nick traumatised for the plot🥰)

But yet the Nick who came to my house after being kicked out, a broken backback on his back, knees cut and graised, eyes red, skin blood coloured. The nick who came to my door telling me he couldn't do it anymore, balling into my arms the whole night, screaming even. The nick who moved in with me.