Thirteen-years-old, Connor Wolfhard, a considerate and magnanimous teen, trying to cope with the enslaved power of a merciless creature. With the abidance of detest, deep-rooted for his contentious mother, and intricate in an explosive concocted sto...
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C O N N O R
I inspected my outfit in the mirror, before grabbing my backpack and running downstairs to the kitchen island.
"Good Morning!" I said to Dad, who was reading a newspaper with a frown plastered on his face.
"Morning!" He smiled.
I returned his smile with a small one, before I sat down on one of the stools.
"Thibbault!" Dad yelled. "Are you up?"
"Yes!" He seemed to shout, but it came out more like a muffle.
I listened carefully and was able to hear the slight sound of the shower running.
"Mornin, Dad." Maverick said sitting besides Dad on another stool. He let out an irritated sigh. "I want my phone back."
"Next week."
"It's been two weeks. You gave Thibbault his phone back, so why can't I have mine?"
"You can have it back next week, Maverick and you know, very well, the reason why."
I was listening to them when Dad turned around to face me. "Can you go and call Elliot for breakfast, please?" I nodded, getting up from my spot.
I slowly walked upstairs and I felt my breath hitch when I saw Elliot's door. I've never been near his room before, nor knocked on his door.
I hesitantly knocked on his door, but there was no answer. I knocked again, a little louder, this time.
"What?" I gulped at his voice.
"I-I--" I didn't even complete my sentence, when the door opened. Elliot stood there with a monogram necklace around his neck.
"What brings you to my room, munchkin?" He asked, with a smirk.
"D-Dad's calling you d-downstairs for breakfast." I mumbled, fiddling with my fingers.
I heard him let out a frustrated sigh before pulling me inside his room. He grabbed my arm and sat down on his bed.
My eyes wandered around his handsome room that was much bigger than mine. The white walls surrounded the room and dark brown drapes hid the long windows across the walls.
The television, air conditioner and bookshelf were pretty much arranged like they've been set in my room.
"What did Dad say?" I heard him ask, but I didn't pay attention at all to the question.
"Your room is so big and appointed." I complimented and gasped, still gazing around.
He laughed. "Did you even hear what I said or were you too busy admiring my room?"
"What did you say?"
A yawn suddenly escaped my lips, making my eyes widened and I quickly shut my mouth.
