BodyGuard (DNF)

Chapter 74: Twitter posts

Sorry about being a dick with the last chapter.
Although I am going to continue being one for this one so... Not actually sorry.

Anyways enjoy... Or don't.
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George POV.

I rubbed my eyes and sat up, my room was dark indicating that it was still night. My rib ached as I sat up slightly, feeling cold and lonely without a Pillow in bed with me.

Still, he is at the dance, and I told him to go there so if anyone's to blame for wanting him but not having him was myself. However he should be here soon, it must be at least 9, and the dance finishes around 9:30, my tired eyes moved to look at the clock. I reread it several times in disbelief when it said it was 11:26pm.

Why wasn't Clay here? I climbed out of the bed, pushing past the pain as I walked out into the hallway and towards his bedroom. Did he not want to wake me up or something? He knew I would be fine if he woke me up because I would want to talk to him.

Gently I pushed the door open, glancing around the dark room as I heard the blonds breathing. Clay was laying on his side with his back facing the door, and I crept over to him and laid down beside him.

The blond rolled over slightly, seeming half asleep he mumbled something along the lines of "hey Georgie" before rolling back over, clearly tired. I crawled closer to him before curling myself into a ball, my back rested against his and I drifted off to sleep, surrounded by warmth from my Pillow.

Clay POV.

I had been laying here for ages. Not asleep, but not really awake either, like I was in a daze. My mind kept replaying the events of the dance, the looks I was given, the alcohol, the kiss.
Shit. Everything about this night was a disaster.

A tear rolled slowly down my cheek and I didn't bother to wipe it away, trying to calm myself down which I slowly did. My sniffles quieting down to heavy breathing.

Then, from somewhere behind me I heard the door click open, and some small, quiet footsteps which I recognised instantly. To further that, a dip in the bed from behind me. I turned slightly, mumbling a small hello to the Brit before turning back around, not wanting him to see the dry tear stains over my face.

I need to tell him. I need to fucking tell him. It would be better to hear it from me than anyone else, at least that way he'll hear my side of the story too. No. I wanted too but my brain was too tired, feeling George shuffle closer to me and ease up as he began drifting off to sleep, even if I did tell him now he'd be asleep by morning.

He let out quiet snores and I felt myself falling asleep beside him.

George POV.
✨The next morning ✨

For once, I woke up early. But that has been happening since I seemed to have a gift for ending up in a position that hurt one of my numerous injuries and woke me up.
Beside me, Clay was still asleep with his back to me, which saddened me a little, was there a reason why he didn't want to sleep with me last night?

I sat up slightly and reached over to my phone, deciding maybe I could fill a few hours on social media.
When I opened up Twitter I saw an account made by another student at school pop up. usually I ignored looking at stuff posted by classmates and peers but a lot of photos came up about the dance and so I clicked on them, and began scrolling through them.

They were mainly the same photos as you see every year. Some couples dancing, teachers looking less stressed out than usual in clothes that could sometimes (but not very often) be considered fashionable, and the odd photo just admiring the decorations set up.

However, one picture caught my attention. It was a relatively close up photo of two people, both blonds with one having a more strawberry tint. Although the photo was kind of dark one of the figures was easily recognisable. Clay.
It was a photo of him and a girl kissing. My eyes scanned over it repeatedly, looking for a sign that I was looking at a photoshoots image, checking every pixel on a page to see if any didn't line up with their neighbours but none of them did.

That photo, the one of Clay kissing a random girl at the dance was 100% real. Tears rolled down my cheeks at the realisation but I instantly wiped it away, of course that was real, unlike what he had with me.

This was just a job, and the blond probably figured maybe if he made me fall for him he'd get paid more. My eyes watered more and tear stains started marking the bed sheets.
Why the fuck had I actually thought that the two of us would ever have something?
Clay, he was hot, smart, popular and sporty. I on the other hand was none of the above, and clearly worth lying too as well. Ugly, unpopular, slow and stupid.

I turned my phone off and threw it to the floor, gritting my teeth at the memories of every time I thought he actually liked me.

Then, I stood and left, not wanting to be with him, my face showing zero emotion. I walked to my room and shut the door, not caring at the loud noise it made. I sat slumping against the wall before beginning to cry, occasionally slamming my fists against the wall in frustration at my ignorance.

Who knows how long I stayed like that? Minutes, hours, days even... No, definitely not days. But I was pulled from my thoughts when I heard knocking on the door. Just go away, I want to be alone.

"George?"
I perked up slightly at the voice, before leaning back against the wall again. "It's Clay" the voice continued, once again getting silence in response. "I know you are awake and we need to talk."

Once again I gritted my teeth before answering, "Clay, can you piss off. I have better things to do."
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1072 words.

Also, I started a discord server. The link is in my bio for anybody interested.