found (clay jensen)

morning voice

I shift under Clay's weight, trying to make myself more comfortable as I keep my hand connected to his warm, muscled chest.

It's late into the night now, and I lay curled up into his chest with my hands around his neck.

Sleepiness weights down my eyelids and threaten to pull me into a deep slumber as Clay wraps his hands tighter around my exposed back.

The house is silent with only the sound of an odd vibrating noise coming from under the blankets. I start to think that was slightly out of place, and reach down towards the source of the odd noise.

My hand grazes something that seems to be vibrating and I pull my fingers back, cocking my head to the side in puzzlement.

We separate as I turn my body fully towards the item, and my eyes widen with shock at the sight of my phone, lighting up with notifications. They pour in, with almost thirty on the screen now.

Clay jumps slightly in surprise as I gasp and throw myself at it, knocking into his shoulder.

"Mierda, mierda, mierda. Hijo de puta. " I swear violently in Spanish under my breath, realizing suddenly what the notifications are.

My mother had been trying to reach me for at least two hours, yet I had been too preoccupied with Clay under the sheets to notice.

As I open her messages, I flinch at the extensive profanity in them, and the twenty four missed calls from both my mother and father. Each text grows increasingly more aggressive as time went on, as I got later and later than what I had promised.

I'm completely naked, but I can't bring myself to care anymore as I throw the sheets off of me and run across the room.

Clay sits up, watching me with wide blue eyes that follow my rapid, jerking movements. They're filled with less of the usual wonder and dreaminess that welcome me, and instead are glazed over with a gaze of sleepiness and concern.

Sweatpants and an oversized hoodie are tossed to me by Clay as I curse wildly, throwing the warm clothes on without a pause in my pacing. A twinge of pain in my back from hunching over my phone causes my swearing to increase, the throbbing ache of my spine consuming me.

"Fuck!" The first English word I spoke the entire morning, jolting Clay out of his confused daze. His eyes adjust and his hand flies to his face as I slam the light switch on, and the room floods with a blinding brightness that makes my head pound.

"Ellie?" His morning voice soothes the anxiety deep in my chest. It was one of the best quirks that I had noticed from him, and the very first thing that had made me fall for him, hard.

When he had found me at three in the morning, laying naked in Bryce's backyard, his croaky, deep voice settled somewhere in my heart and took root.

It took a permanent spot in my heart, even when the warmth in my heart had ruined the sisterhood that I shared with Hannah.

"What's wrong?" He asked, the deep sound of his morning voice cracking slightly in a way that makes me feel like I'm melting into the floor.

"I'm fucked." I look up at him nervously, my eyes stating glued to my phone.

He smiles, not understanding. "Yeah, I know right, last night was just-"

"No, Clay." I stop him before he begins. "I mean, that too, but I'm saying that I'm in deep shit with my Mom right now. Dude, I was supposed to be home by nine, and it's one o'clock in the fucking morning!"

Clay takes a second to register the news before flying up from the bed, throwing his arms around aimlessly as he searched for his own clothes.

"I'll drive you home." He tries to get both legs into his pants at the same time while simultaneously pulling his phone out to check the time. His abundant clumsiness wins over his attempt to multitask, inevitably failing as he slams into his dresser with a loud bang.