George groaned, rubbing his eyes and forcing himself to sit up straight.
He let out a breath, ultimately deciding to get out of bed as he clambered out of his soft blankets.
His feet hit the cold floor of his bedroom, spotty dots hitting his vision as he stood and he tumbled, catching himself on his bed side table.
He straightened up, shaking his thoughts out and deciding it wasn't weird, but he's glad he didn't fall.
Hes going job hunting today! since his last job got shut down, he needs a new one...that way the rent 'incident' doesn't happen again.
He shut that thought down too.
He gathered his things for a shower, heading that way and climbing in.
The water felt nice on his skin, it was a nice way to warm himself up and wake up before his day, and to that he smiled with a breath out.
He climbed out, wiping the mirror down and getting ready. He brushed his teeth, almsot dropping it in the floor but catching it, and then his hair.
Wearing a navy blue suit top, black dress pants and shoes, and a white button up under his opened dressy top, he styled his hair and grabbed his things.
He locked his door, and left. When he made it to the elevator, first press of the button and it was there. No wait.
He scoffed and got in.
When he made it to the lobby he noticed the odd line of people at the reception area. He glanced at the lady there, looking obviously overwhelmed, and George pitied her.
She's a sweet lady, he thinks her name is Alexa? But he's only ever spoken to her a handful of times, and those were a while ago.
When his feet hit the pavement of the sidewalk, warm air coursing through his hair, his smile returned.
He loves this weather, warm and sweet. Like a kiss to the cheek when you're upset, it's calming. And it made his stature immediately relax, shoulders lulling slightly and lips curling into a small lip smile.
The first interview was a few blocks away - and while he'd love not to walk it, the next bus is at 3:30, and he has no car.
So he made due.
//
Okay he didn't make due.
He feels like he's going to die of a heat stroke, the first interview went to shit -- he spilled coffee on his 'boss' during his trial run, got yelled at, and almost cried --
where's his luck when he needs it?
He kicked a pebble on the walkway, kicking a few feet, his eyes glued to the little piece of Earth as it moved.
He was knocking it between his two feet, watching as it bounced back between the two - before the tips of his shoes met another pair..
These a dark grey color, black pants covering the top of the shoes and traveling up long legs. Cargo pants. George has always thought they are attractive.
His eyes followed them up, and to the chains at the waist of the stranger, a small patch of skin shown above the waist line and then covered by the top - crop top - the other stranger was wearing.
The top was black, plain black, short sleeved. His neck was decorated in chains and necklaces that George couldn't tell apart from this distance.
And his face.
oh his face.
Black sunglasses, an arrogant smirk on peirced lips, - bottom lip more specifically - and a hoop on the left side of his nose. His eyes a bright green, lips full and pink, eyebrows the perfect shape and a mess of brownish blonde hair atop his head like a mop.
“Are you alright?” the pretty lips spoke, still pulled into a smirk and George was immediately snapped into thought.
“oh” he replied, just in a breath as he felt like it had been knocked out of his lungs.
He knew he was gay, fuck, he was one of those guys who had magazines.
But still, George? Not a social person.
Therefore, he had zero idea what to say.
“oh?” he replied, mocking the smaller with a soft chuckle.
“yeah...oh. WAIT-” his eyes widened, “fuck” he mummered, “okay, yes, oh. but also- sorry for running into you or wait no sorry for toe bumping you? wait no” he stopped himself with a hand on his mouth, still staring at the man with no shame in his eyes.
The other just let out a breathy laugh, eyes crinkling and bright white teeth coming to show, sharp canines, and a cute little gap between the front two coming with.
and that was all it took for George to awkwardly laugh along - at his own awkwardness, of course -.
“Clay” he lened his hand out. Or well, Clay did.
“Oh- uh, George!” he replied, reaching his hand out to meet the rougher one infront of him, bigger fingers wrapping around his hand for a half hearted shake.
“So...why are you out here, all dressed up, kicking pebbles?” he questioned, bringing his hand back and stuffing it in his pocket.
George shrugged, one coming up before dropping. “uh, i had an interview” he laughed, smiling at the taller before returning to his relaxed nature
“oh. are you looking for a job?” he questioned, George relized how much he expressed with his face when he spoke.
“no, just going to job interviews..? Yes, I am” he laughed, also realizing how weird it was he was talking to a stranger about this.
“uh, well...I may be able to help you? if you'd like...Uh...Here's my number!” he smiled, conveniently reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper.
“just have that in there for safe keeping?” George questioned with a soft laugh and clay returned it.
“maybe.” he passed it to the other who held it carefully in his palm.
“give me a call, yeah? we can talk about it. It was nice meeting you George”
“you...too” he smiled.
//
Word count -- 1012
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Beelzebub
Fantasy"Beelzebub is also identified in the New Testament as the Devil, "the prince of demons". Biblical scholar Thomas Kelly Cheyne suggested that it might be a derogatory corruption of Ba'al-zəbûl, "Lord of the High Place" (i.e., Heaven) or "High Lord"...
