It was early the next morning and Connor was pacing the floor. He hadn't got any sleep last night due to worrying about school. How many people would know about his suicide attempt? If Amelia had the information he was positive everyone would know. Would they tease him for being so cowardly? Would everyone be looking at him differently?
He kept glancing at the front door, praying Brad would show up soon. Tugging nervously at the end of his sweater sleeves the cloth began to rub against his scars. He hissed as they started to sting and let go of the material quickly. Resisting the urge to pull his sleeves up and examine the wounds, Connor began to pace. He felt anxiety starting to press against his chest causing his breathing to come out shallow and rapid. He began to pull at his hair, muttering under his breath "Calm the fuck down," over and over again.
Eventually Connor collapsed to the floor, pressing his back against the grey painted wall and bring his knees in tight to his chest. He was barley breathing, allowing silent tears to slip down his cheeks. The doorbell rang at that moment, and Connor wished he could compel himself to stand up, but anxiety pressed him firmly to the ground. The knocking got louder and faster, Brads growing worry ringing through the house with each sound. Still Connor didn't move.
Soon enough Brad was calling out to the other boy, banging on the door. Finally Connor was granted mobility, yanking himself upwards and towards the door. He wailed Brads name the tears falling faster from his eyes. Connor lunged for the doorknob, turning it and looking up to meet Brad's eyes.
"Connor! Holy fuck I was so worried!" He exhaled wrapping his arms protectively around the sobbing boy. "Com'n, lets go sit down." Brad's voice was calmer now, as he leaded Connor to the dinning room and sat him down at the table. They waited there a few minutes, as Connor's sobs had subsided to small whimpers.
"You don't have to go to school today." Brad suggested pushing Connors hair off his face. He just shook his head in reply. Brad took one of Connors pale hands on his and gave it a squeeze. "But if you really want to, I'll be there every step of the way." His voice was calm and reassuring in attempt to sooth him.
"Th-thank you," Connor replied leaning into Brad. "Everyone one is going to have at least h-heard the rumour by today. All I-I care about is making s-sure my dad doesn't find out, I have t-to go." He looked Brad dead in the eyes, worry present in his unwavering stare.
"That's understandable," Brad sighed "but you shouldn't push yourself into a situation that could lead to an anxiety attack. Or something bad." As much as the brown-haired boy wanted Connor to walk to school with him today, he knew better.
"Bradley, I h-have too, l-let's go." And with that Connor stood up. He grabbed his bag and headed to the front quickly putting on his shoes. Brad was close behind him, the sensation of fear and worry for Connor not going unnoticed.
Brad trailed him out the door, shutting it behind them. They started on their long trek to school. Their hands intertwined, they walked side by side, not saying anything. Every once and awhile Brad would give Con's hand a quick squeeze to re-assure him. Tough as time went by he wasn't sure wether it was Connor who needed to be reassured, or himself. Every step brought them closer to the danger like soldiers marching into war. Brad couldn't help but feel guilt mix with his evident fear. He was supposed to be strong for Con, not the coward he felt he was in that moment. The two emotions swirled around in his stomach like a funnel cloud. He cautiously anticipated it to transform in a tornado at any moment.
Connor's expression was one of stone. He had somehow found the ability to wipe all the emotion from his face. The only way you would be able to tell that he was scared was if you looked at his hands which were shaking ever so slightly. Brad could only wonder how his timid boyfriend had been able to pull off such a convincing cover. He wasn't just covering up his fear, but he seemed to look brave. A word that would have never been used to describe Connor before. In all honesty Connor did feel brave. Of course he was scared. But he kept his head held high and kept pushing forward. The inevitable wrath of Amelia drew nearer with each step, and Connor knew he was not going to cower in the corner and watch Brad deal with it. He had to stand up for himself. He had to show Amelia he was not about to let her play with him like doll.
