clocks

15

George

When I wake, it's exactly the way it has been for the past few days now. He is right beside me, my arm is laid protectively over his chest, his head turnt to face mine even in sleep.

His lips are slightly parted. In my sleepy state, my ears tune to the hammer of his heart inside his chest. It thumps, in even beats, the vibrations of it thrumming against my face.

The first thing I actually think is that this is weird, that I'm up and he's still sleeping. Can it really be that early, if he is still asleep? It doesn't look that early outside, the birds aren't so loud, and it's clearly light out.

The only thing that actually forces me up and out of his arms is my hunger. Nothing else would be able to convince me to get up from his grip, but the noises and gurgles that come from inside my stomach are so loud that I think they might be able to wake him. So I yawn, and lift my head from his shoulder.

The house is quiet, but it's windier today then it has been in the past week. It's still sunny, but the wind can be heard within the walls of his house, the harsh noises of it seeming to be threatening the beginning of autumn. You've been able to feel it in the air as the last few days have gone on.

Warmth slowly lessens in the air, the wind starts to pick up during the day, and you can see the clouds overheard beginning to grow darker, but never dark enough to start actually raining. You can feel the summer start to slip from underneath you, as if it were never even really there.

Autumn brings the start of the cold weather, it brings the sleet which will lead to snow later on in the year, it's when the days begin to get darker earlier, when the days start to seem much longer then what they really are. I don't hate autumn, but I don't think I can say I like it. The sun is where I think I belong, with the heat, in with the warmth.

I creep down the quiet hall, where I'm met by Gracie, who seems to be looking for her breakfast. She wags her tall at a rapid speed as she approaches me. I crouch down, extending a hand as she runs to me.

"Good morning," I mumble, letting her lick my arm. "Good morning, are you hungry? Has your dad not been up to feed you?"

Her tail wags and wags, which pretty much answers my quiet questions. So I stand and traipse down the hall to where her bed and bag of food is, taking some of it and shuffling it into the bowl that sits on the floor.

I leave her with her food, just to realize I don't really know what I should do. Making breakfast is a thought, but now that I'm actually up, I realize I'm really not all that hungry yet, I never eat just after I've woken, it makes me feel a little sick.

So I crack open the back door, to the view of the early morning lake. The noise of the water hits my ears, the low splash and turn as it moves smoothly. Theres a small shimmer across the water, a snap of light that makes the water look a bright and vibrant green.

It's chiller then I'd been expecting. A small rush of colder air hits me, and seems to cling to my arms. The feeling is familiar, my mind slips, and then— I'm gone.

I'm on a balcony, the air is freezing and it seems to be clinging to my skin. It's high up, on this balcony, we're high up. This apartment is high up, high up in a big city of flashing lights and mysterious noises.

When I say we, I mean me, and a man beside me that I can't recall ever seeing before, until a few hours ago. Was he tonights fuck? Where did I pick him up from, a bar? I turn my head an inch to survey him.

Blonde, but his hair is straight. A sharp jaw, a bumpy kind of nose, eyes already looking at me. His eyes are blue. Not green. When his gaze hits mine I turn back out to the city, bringing the joint between my fingers back up to my lips. I can feel his eyes watching over me as I move. I want him to stop looking.