Project V (Clementine X Male Reader Book 4)

Fuzz

There's screaming and yelling around you. Not the kind that means help, I'm dying, but of fun and happiness. Little children playing tag or hide and seek, maybe. You feel tiny too, like you're a child, but everything is fuzzy. You can smell but can't recall what the smell is. You can see, there's someone in front of you, is it Brooklyn? You don't know. You can hear the voice of whoever stands before you but can't understand them like they're muffled or something.

Now you're walking in a new setting. No more yelling. You feel bigger than before, taller. Someone is walking next to you, you still don't know who you're looking at, but you can tell it's the same person. They laugh, but even their laugh seems muffled. Why are they so out of focus? They're holding some kind of food in their hand, periodically eating it. You can hear cars pass and honks in the distance.

Borokyln: I'm going t- s-xt- g- n--t y--r. How are we g- to see e-ch o-r?

What? I'm going... How are we... to see... That's all you can understand. The rest is fuzzy and distant.

You: We'll meet up after school—every single day.

You can hear yourself just fine. Your voice is pitched higher than usual, and you mentioned school. So, you're younger?

Borokyln: B- I'm g- to miss you. I do- get al- w- wi- m-y pe-l-

You: Maybe if you tried being nice every once and a while.

They punch you in the arm.

Borokyln: I a-... To peo- I l-k.

It's gone in an instant. The scene is replaced by you in a building. You're sitting at a long table; many more spread themselves across the room. People sit at each of them, all in their own groups, large and small. You're across from the same person as before, you can tell because the only thing you've ever been able to make out is their hair, and it's been the same each time. They're bigger now, it seems. Someone new is there, sitting next to them.

Lnea: I h- it th-h.

Still muffled. And everything is so blurry! Why? The people next to you are impossible to make out, but anything outside of them is even worse. Almost like they're not even there.

Borokyln: I'll e- it.

Lnea: No, I w-. I h- a te- n-t pe-d. Don't want to be fo-sed on h- h-gr- I am.

Gone again, changed. There's running water somewhere, distant, far away.

Borokyln: Whe- are we go-.

The same person.

You feel very nervous. Excited too. You can't recall why. It's supposed to be important. You know it's important. Why can't you remember what it is?

You: You'll see.

You've matured.

Gone again.

————————————————————

You're slow to wake, tired from the late night. But, it's day now. The curtains are closed but illuminated from the outside.

Brooklyn is lying half on top of you: her leg is wrapped around yours, her other leg spread across until your feet are touching on the opposite leg, one arm is across your chest, the other next to her. She's been drooling on you. It nearly makes you laugh, but you don't want to wake her up. And you don't think you could get out of this pretzel, so you'll have to stay put.

Her hair tickles your cheek. The two of you are still a little sweaty, only where you're bodies are pressed together. Your clothes... Where are your clothes? How did your shirt get on the TV?