Ruin The Friendship [ dreamwastaken x reader ]

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It's already 6 pm and Clay's still asleep.

I was woken up at least an hour ago when Patches wormed her way between us and kneaded me hard enough to draw pin prick blood. Now I'm just chilling, her curled against me with her face mashed in my neck, Clay curled against me with his face mashed in my neck.

I guess I must be warm, soft, maybe even comfortable.

I hum, idly scrolling my phone, trying to distract myself from thinking, but it's hard to stop. This... whatever me and Clay keep doing is... getting heavier, harder to maintain.

I don't want to just fuck anymore. I really don't.

I flick my eyes down as Clay mumbles. I watch him press his whole face into me and Patches, like he can crawl inside and live between us. I lift a hand to the back of his head, dragging my nails through his hair, half petting him.

Mans must be tired as hell.

Clay's head adjusts again, coming up for air, no longer buried. I immediately lift my phone and angle for a picture. His mouth is parted, face lax, and he's literally drooling.

I feel bad for just a second, but decide I'm not passing the opportunity, even for drooly boy. I take a burst, and lift my phone back to my face. I coo at the picture, it's got all three of our faces in it.

It makes me feel warm, yet tight.

Why do I have this picture? Why am I in so deep for someone who isn't even dating me?

I sigh, in my head again. George said an entire month ago that Clay's definitely always had a thing for me. But, to me, if that were true, we wouldn't be doing what we're currently doing, still.

I have to write it off, blaming it on the fact that we haven't had time to talk at all yet, having been... occupied since I got here.

Still, being pressed under him like this suddenly becomes overwhelming as my emotions surge. I need out. I wriggle, bothering both Clay and Patches who make noises of protest as I displace them to get free.

Patches hops off, completely leaving the room, now annoyed with me. But Clay... Clay makes things harder. His arms lift on instinct, wrapping around me and keeping me in place. It's only more overwhelming like this, as he mashes his face back into my neck.

I huff a sigh, trying to wiggle away, when Clay moans, tightening around me like a vice.

"Love you." He mumbles out.

I completely freeze up, heart rabbiting in my chest as I look down at his face, seeing it's still totally lax. He moans again, and I come to the conclusion that he's still knocked out, fucking sleep talking.

It makes my stomach hurt with embarrassment that I thought he could've been saying it consciously for even a second.

I pry his arms off of me, much more aggressively, and get out of his bed as quickly as I can, rushing out of the room, feeling tension hollow me out.

Why is this so hard? For no reason?

I make my way downstairs to Clay's living room, going straight for my bag, and pull my laptop out. I flip it open and slam down on his couch.

I'm desperate enough for a distraction that I'm going to do homework. Like actually.

I feel a tremble in my bottom lip that I have to swallow. A bitch will not be crying over this. I navigate to Youtube, put on some music, and dive-in, losing myself in the focus, letting my emotions fade.

***

After maybe an hour, I'm startled by a thump at my side, looking up. I see Clay rounding the stairs, dragging his hand down to rub sleep from his face.