*this prompt is from a really really long time ago so sorry about that! thank you to cuddlytronnor for the prompt*
*child!Connor*
*if you don't like it don't read it because I won't put up with people shitting on something other people like okay bye*
Before we start off this story of this terrible incident, there are a few things you should know about Connor.
One: Connor doesn't take well to criticism. Even constructive. It's not because he doesn't like to be wrong, it's more of the fact that it makes him feel like he's being judged.
Two: he hates to be yelled at. There aren't many things that can make Connor cry, but being yelled at is certainly one of them (along with being bullied).
Three: he acts like a child. He's got the heart of a five year old. Connor still has a stuffed animal—multiple even—but he wouldn't admit that to anyone. He still sleeps with a small baby blanket his mom made for him years ago, and his night light is always turned on when it's dark.
Lastly: the green eyed boy easily gets attached to things. That's why his tattered and torn blanket still sits on his bed. That's why when his mom left for a vacation he cried almost all of the next day.
That's why this story goes the way it does.
Connor hurries into school that day. He had woke up later than usual so in turn he was late to school. His hair was messy and his backpack had been zipped right as he rushed out of the door.
He was practically running to his first period class, hanging his backpack on the back of his chair when he sat down. After, the bell rang, Connor sighing in relief when he realized he wasn't tardy.
The class was stressful though. He hadn't packed his science notebook which means he had to write the notes down on a sheet of paper and then copy them to his notebook. He hadn't even brought a pencil!
When the class finished a weight was thrown off his shoulders as he started to walk down the hallways. His school wasn't the nicest, but it was a second home to him. A lot of the teachers were exceptionally kind and caring, always making sure Connor got his work done and that he understood.
The kids were another story though. Most of them happening to be loud and obnoxious. They were rude and judging. Anyone not conforming to gender roles and society's standards would be bullied like no other.
When trudging through his second period classroom door he ran into someone. His head immediately shot up as he started spluttering apologies, thinking that it was a jock of the school. But then they made eye contact and Connor recognized that the face was not familiar.
"Who are you?"
"I'm the new kid."
"Interesting name," he said breathlessly. The boy chuckled lightly, reaching his hand out and motioning for Connor to shake it, which he did.
"Troye."
"Connor."
Blue eyes brightened and pink lips curved into a wide smile. "See you around Connor."
Now, without Troye, things certainly wouldn't have gone the way they did. Connor wouldn't feel as safe as he does now, and he definitely wouldn't be as happy.
That same day Connor was walking through the—what he thought to be—empty halls. But he heard laughing, loud laughing coming from boys he knew sounded of trouble.
