6

                                    

                                          
Warnings:
-Mentions physical abuse 
Elliot's POV 
I felt strange when I walked to Tristan's home, but couldn't really tell why. I avoided looking at him, which I usually did because it made me feel an annoying feeling I preferred not to feel. Tristan seemed sunken away in his own thoughts, which left room for me to stay quiet as well.
But after a while, he started to walk slower and glanced at me. 'Elliot, I'm afraid of Patrick and wanted to tell you something, but I'm really scared you would go to him or anything.'
'Tris, if I need to shut up, I will and won't tell him anything. I'm good at keeping secrets,' I replied, seeing my father's fist slamming Clay on the cheek. I didn't want to keep it a secret, but I was afraid to speak up as well and decided to suffer in silence...
He nodded slowly. 'Promise me that you won't tell Patrick that I said this, or anyone else for that matter,' he begged me. 
'I promise, Tris. Any information you ask me to keep a secret is safe with me and will be safe unless I have to save your life because of direct danger.'
He swallowed and grabbed my hand to pull me away from the public street. I was pushed behind some bushes and saw him hesitate for a second before pulling up his shirt. 
'So... the elbow thing wasn't the only time he has hurt me.'
I gasped when I saw a large burn from his shoulder to his ribs. 'Holy crap... How did that happen, Tris?'
'I wanted to hug him because I felt pretty alone that day, but he was ignoring me. I kept hugging him from behind, but at one point, he stood up and got really mad. He had a cup of tea that I made for him and threw it at me. He apologised right away, but I've been so afraid.'
I ran my finger over his chest and without saying anything else, I pulled him closer to me to give him a hug that was so tight that he would be sure I loved him a lot more than he could ever imagine.
My stomach started to feel warmer, but I immediately pushed that feeling away and focused on my breathing. Tristan wrapped his arms around my waist and I felt him swallow because his throat was pressed against my shoulder, his chin on top of it. 
'I won't tell anyone, because you're not ready for it, but Tristan, I want you to promise me one thing too,' I whispered as I had my eyes closed and enjoyed his touch. 
'What is it?' he asked with a soft voice, one that sounded vulnerable and weaker than usual.
'I want you to break up with him as quick as you can. I know that's going to be awfully difficult, but he is going to injure you a lot more and I'm not tolerating that. I'll be here with you through all of it and if you're not safe when you end things, we are going to talk to your parents and ask them for help and safety.'
He sighed softly and then nodded. 'Okay, but I do need your help. I just genuinely loved him so much, it seems like I'll just never find love,' he whispered as he broke the hug. 'I'm sorry for being so negative.'
'Don't apologise, I fully understand it. I promise, Tris, you're going to find another amazing guy who truly loves you the way you love him,' I replied. 
'I wish I was straight,' he admitted. 'My parents are loving Christians who support homosexuality and so does my church and youth club, but I just... My life would have been so much easier if I would just be normal.'
'Tris, you are normal!' I exclaimed. 'Just more unique, and that's amazing.'
'You're so sweet,' he stumbled as he looked me into my eyes. 'I like your eyes, they look amazing when the sun is shining on them like this...'
I smiled at him and felt my cheeks flush red, feeling lost for words. Compliments always meant a lot to me, but when they came from Tristan, it felt even more special. My parents compliments were useless to me because they couldn't even take the time to have some respect for my brother, but Tristan never complimented people unless he truly loved them.
'When I was younger, I always wanted to have hazel eyes,' I said after thinking about my response for a while. 'My mother has hazel eyes, but Clay and I got my father's eyes.'
'I would trade eyes,' Tristan answered with a soft laugh. 'I want something else than this boring dark brown hair.'
'My blonde hair is far more common,' I answered, which made both of us laugh. 'Why are we even discussing this?'
'I have no clue, but it makes me happy to see you smile. I'm always on about Patrick, but you're dealing with a lot more than you're making it seem like.'
I immediately saw Clay's face pop back up in my mind and replayed one of the most awful nights in my head. He was beaten in his face over and over until he collapsed on the floor, unconscious and unresponsive for minutes...
'No, I'm fine...' I lied because I was aware I couldn't tell anyone about the abuse at home. I would bring Clay in danger and the people I told would feel hopeless because they couldn't stop it anyway. It was a problem I had to deal with on my own, because no one realised how much pain it caused someone to see their brother get beaten up every day.
The memory put tears in my eyes, so I quickly turned away from Tristan and continued walking to his place. However, my friend realised I wasn't doing alright and wrapped his arm around me as soon as I moved forward again.
'Elliot, I will never force you to talk to me, because I know you're not ready or just don't feel like it and that's okay. I don't have to know what's going on, but if you ever want to talk, I will be here for you. Next to that, I will always be here even though I don't know what's going on. If I do anything insensitive, tell me right away so I can change it.'
'Thank you, Tris,' I stumbled, feeling guilty for my short reply after his sweetness. 
'I know you're bothered that you're unable to say much more, but this is enough. Don't force yourself to say more when you're not sure what else to say. You're showing enough appreciation to me, every single day.'
1125 words