Signed /Dream Team/

59

Lying there, staring at the wall as the sound of the TV disturbed the dead silence was weirdly comforting. Clay remained still on the bed with me, not uttering a word after I flinched away from his touch.

However, the silence and the lack of communication got the best of me. I couldn't bear it any longer. Clay's right. I truly am vulnerable.

I turn to my other side to face him. He mirrors my movement, shifting from his back to his side, propping his head on his elbow and gazing at me. With the absence of words and actions, my gaze dropped to the chain around his neck. I long my hand and start fiddling with it.

"I'm sorry," he says softly.

I smile, exhaling sharply. He didn't even need to apologize. He was simply stating the truth. What was I if not vulnerable?

"It's fine," I look up, "I'm just a big fucking idiot."

The audacity with which he nodded is both amusing and frustrating. Yet, despite my mixed reactions, I end up chuckling.

"You didn't even make an effort," I laugh, shaking my head as he smiles. And he continues to smile, eyes locked on my face. "What?"

"I like y-" he began, then paused in the middle of his sentence, "your laugh. I like it."

Whether it's my imagination or a real memory, I'm sure George had once said the same thing to me. It made me wonder.

"What do you like about it?" I continue fidgeting with his chain, my laughter fading into a smile.

"I don't know... it just makes me happy."

I lightly tug on his necklace. The way his breath hitches when our noses brush against each other sparks a thought in my head.

"Why are you here with me?" My voice is close to a whisper.

He gulps, leaning in closer until our lips barely touch, "Where else should I be?"

I know he knows the answer to his own question, but the way it sounded felt more like an answer than a question. It was almost as if he was telling me that there's nowhere else he wants to me.

"With your friends?" I chuckle lightly.

There's something in his smile that resembles sadness. I don't know what it is, but I can see the pain in it.

Clay pulls away and sighs, shrugging at my words as he looks down at my fingers and then looks back at me, "I actually don't know."

I think it's the first time in these few days that we both question our actions. What is happening? And what's happened?

"What's gonna happen?" My voice is still low.

"I don't know." He raises his brows slightly.

After a few seconds in complete silence, I decide to speak again, "You should go back to your friends," even though my own words hurt me, I still thought that was the only logical scenario, "I appreciate what you've done for me, but this isn't right."

Maybe I did expect him to shut me up and come up with something that would change my mind. But after seeing him struggle to find the words, I knew that there weren't any logical scenarios in this case. We can't keep staying at a hotel, and he can't ditch his friends for me.

Everything happened in the heat of the moment, and we both regret it already.

"I'll stay if you tell me to."

The way his expression softens and his eyes go big gives him an appearance that is full of hope.

"I don't want you to stay," I shake my head, "there's no point for you to stay. You should be with your friends."

"What about you, Ana?" He almost cuts me off.

"I'll go back to Florida," I press my lips together at the thought, realizing that it's the last thing that I want to do.

"You have an apartment here," Clay's tone is warning.

"It's legally yours in a few days," I smile sarcastically, not wanting to go back there even if it meant wasting 6 months of my life and not getting anything back in return.

"Nobody cares what the papers say. The house is yours, Anastasia."

"I care," I shake my head, "I'm not going back."

"Why not?" He's getting kind of tense.

"Cause I don't want to," I furrow my brows, "and if I wanted to, I have no problem with staying with you and your friends."

Just because the conversation was going nowhere, Clay decides to end it by letting go of a big sigh. He sits on the edge of the bed. And I understand him. He's probably tired of my pointless arguments that make no sense. Everything I say is just there to whitewash my true feelings, and I'm surprised he's patient enough to put up with me.

"I just want things to go back to normal," I speak again, covering my face with both of my hands.

Clay looks up at me, face soft yet still somewhat tense, "What's normal?" I stay silent after his words, "Cause whatever you had before this wasn't normal at all."

I just wish someday I'll have enough strength and intelligence to be able to think like him. Cause right now, I'd happily take being lied to and played with instead of the weight of whatever this is.

I see him get up and get ready to leave. Not sure where's he's going or why he's going, but I don't question it until he speaks.

"Wanna go for a walk?" He finally asks.

I shake my head, getting comfortable in the bed, "I'm don't want to."

He grabs a jacket and shrugs, "I actually don't know what you want."

I just wanna know what George told him that made him act like this. It almost seems like he's mad at me. And I almost ask him what's wrong, but then change my mind and decide that it's better for him to leave for now so that we both have some time to think.

"You sure you're okay with being alone?" He double-checks, and I nod, "Won't be too far away from here, call me if anything."

I nod again and watch him leave.