wanna bet? | dream x Reader

November 10th 2021 | y/n

10:11 A.M

"Y/n, talk to me." He follows me out of the bedroom. I walk into the kitchen and pull out a yogurt. "I have, and as I said, I'm fine." I grab a spoon from my drawer of utensils.

He picks the dairy up and holds it above my head. I glare up at the tall man. "You're not fine." He says. I jump up for the food. "So he's a father, what does it matter? Just give me my damn food." I say to him.

He shakes his head. "Those girls are very lucky, I'm not, woo. You cracked the code."

"That's not what I said," Clay tells me. I cross my arms. "You didn't have to." I frown. "I didn't mean that at all. I meant something completely different." He says.

"Enlighten me." I angrily toss my spoon to the side. He places the yogurt down after me. My heart pounds with bitterness right about now.

"You have to find reason in everything. That there is something behind anything that happens to you. So there's a blame game in your head that's been going on for as long as you've been alive. As a kid, you could blame your dad for your issues, but then you find out he's this fancy lawyer with all this success and these two kids. So by proxy, if he had been with you you would still be poor and those two girls would never exist. And you can't blame your mom because she gave you everything you had..." He explains.

"And there are only three parts of an equation. And if the parts you're adding aren't to blame, then it's the sum, right?" He says. I look at the floor and shake my head. "Y- You are wrong." I look back up and say with conviction.

"No, I'm not." I disagree shakily. He takes a step forward. "Unh unh. No- No because you can't-" He interrupts. "I know you y/n." He says to me.

My heart aches and I stare straight down at the floor. Clay's feet move as he takes a step forward. He wraps his arms around me and holds me close, burying my face in his chest.

"You knew before I did," I mumble. He just nods and agrees with silence. "You know how scary that is for me?" I move my head up and I look at him through watery eyes. He caresses my hair and nods again.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You shouldn't be here. I'm sorry. I'm such a stupid burden. I'm s-"

He lifts my chin. "I want to be here." He says to me. I shake my head and frown. He removes his finger from my jaw and moves it to my cheek to wipe the tears away. "I'm sorry," I murmur. "Stop saying that."

"No!" I push him away. His eyes widen and he looks at me with regret. "Let me be sorry, okay? Because if I'm sorry then I don't feel as bad for always relying on you like this. I don't want you to have to be there for me. Because it's not fair to you."

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. I stand with my hands folded over each other. "I.. I forgive you." He says to me. I smile weakly and another droplet falls to the wooden floor.

"Now come here." He holds his hand out. I walk over to him and he holds my head to his warm body, trying to bring me comfort. He walks with me to the bedroom, my eyes still covered.

He opens and closes the door. "Come here." I lift my head. He flips the comforter up and takes my hand. He lays down on his back and I cuddle up next to him on my side.

(It's a sweetheart's cradle btw)

12:01 P.M

I grumble and slowly open my eyes. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I turn to look at it. I smile and turn back and see Clay's still asleep face. His other hand rests with his fingers loosely tethered to mine.

I decide to fully hold his hand. His hands are warm. That's all. Jeez.

I then turn my gaze back up at him. I smile bigger and I can't help but lift myself. I kiss him on the cheek and lie back down. Why did I do that?

1:44 P.M

I wake up in the middle of the bed, alone. I rub my eyes and flip to my back. I massage my neck and look forward. A shirtless Clay stands in my room folding laundry.

His back is to me. So, I lay down and go back to sleep. Rather, I try to. Except the thought can't seem to leave my head. Most guys I know don't sleep with a shirt on, and if they do, they wouldn't walk around with it off.

Oh no. Now I feel bad. I sit up and brace my hands behind me to hold myself up. "Clay?" He lifts his head. He turns, his face bright pink. "You didn't have to do my laundry," I tell him.

"Well, the thing was overflowing." He points at the basket. I nod and chuckle. "You also don't have to sleep with a shirt on if it makes you uncomfortable." His mouth opens and he stands frozen, struck. He stares into my eyes.

"But-" He tries. "But it's my bed and you felt weird asking. It's fine." I say and he nods. His pink cheeks revert to his normal tan color. "I don't know how you people sleep with a shirt on." He grins.

"Men are warmer than women," I say. He looks at me like I'm insane. "Not all of them." He tells me. I just shake my head and smile. "Y/n." He calls. "I'm serious. It's science." My hands shoot up.

"You are warmer than I am."

"Uh-huh."

"A person born a male's metabolic rate is higher than someone born as a quote-on-quote woman. And that means you burn calories faster. Which heats your body." He lowers his eyebrows. "Nerd." He scoffs. "No, I just paid attention in school."

He smiles and walks over to me on the bed. I look at my hands. "You also have more muscle mass..." I mutter. "I'm sorry, you're gonna have to talk louder." He says. "Men tend to have more muscle mass which makes you hotter too," I explain louder this time.

"That's not what you said." He smirks. I shake my head. "That's exactly what I said!" I lie. He grins and pats my head. "You said you, meaning me." He laughs. I deny the truth and lean back.

"That's not what I meant." I stand up and jump from the bed. I quickly walk past him. He follows close behind me. "So you did say it?" He asks.

"I guess." I shrug my shoulders. "So why would you lie?" He asks me. I roll my eyes and open the fridge. I then remember the yogurt Clay had left on the counter. I grab the cup and open it. "Hello? Y/n?" I shut the fridge with my foot.

"So you think I have a good amount of muscle mass?" He leans his shoulder against the counter and leans on his hand. I turn and look into his eyes. I scoop out the yogurt and eat it. "I never said that."

"Oh, but you implied it." He giggles. I shake my head and stuff more yogurt into my mouth. "You're just taking a big leap," I say.

"You liked looking at my back."

"Clay!"

"You don't think I'm too tough to look at."

"I- I never once said that!"

"You stuttered!"

"You accused me of something, of course, I stuttered!"

"Y/n, being attracted to-"

"LA LA LA. I CANNOT HEAR YOU. AHHHH!"

I walk out of the kitchen and into my room, quickly locking the door. I sit down, back against the door.

I really wish he wasn't right.