The Lucky Switch {Gream/DreamNotFound}

Let Them Eat Cake (5)

    ~~~

George opened his eyes slowly. He blinked and glanced around, noting with surprise that he wasn't in his bed. Turning his head, he looked at his friend who was still sound asleep. All was silent in the flat, except for the sounds of Clay's even breathing. George rolled over onto his side to face him, a small smile playing on his features.

He stood quietly, being careful not to wake Clay and padded off down the hall towards his room. The closed sketchbook was still sat on his desk, a jarring reminder of what had happened the day before. George looked at it and flinched.

Questions whirled through his mind. He wondered what Clay thought of him now that he'd had a glimpse into George's mind. Grabbing the book, he tucked it in the back of his closet. He wanted to believe that Clay wouldn't look again but he couldn't trust him yet. At least, not after yesterday.

After grabbing his phone charger George made his back to the living room. He plugged his phone in, seeing that Clay was still fast asleep.

The boy was lying on his back with a blanket pulled up to his chin. light creeped into the fort through the gaps and shined in patches on his face. George's eyes softened. Clay looked surprisingly peaceful, very different from the teasing and energetic boy he was slowly getting used to.

George moved to lie down next to him again. He was shocked to see that it was still before eight o'clock. Closing his eyes, he decided to try and fall back asleep.

Clay stirred at the movement beside him, unconsciously shifting closer to George. Warmth radiated off of his sleeping form. The heat made George even more drowsy. His muscles relaxed and he started to doze off. Half asleep, he couldn't quite tell if he was dreaming or not. He faced away from the other but he moved a little closer, his back almost pressed up against Clay's chest.

His breath tickled George's neck. He shivered, his heartbeat quickening. I should move, George thought, but he couldn't. He felt trapped, as if he'd slipped into quicksand and couldn't get out. But he was comfortable. I don't really want to move.

He was caught between a state of sleep and wakefulness, unsure which side he should give into. Eventually, he couldn't help but succumb to his unconscious and into the warm blanket of sleep.

     "George, wake up," He heard a faint voice call. He felt something touch his arm.

     George groaned, burying his face in the covers. "No, it's too early,"

     "Come on, it's already after ten. I let you sleep for an extra hour."

     The tired boy slit his eyes open. "You've been up for an hour?"

     "Yeah, but I'm bored," Clay whined while sitting down on a pillow. "Entertain me."

     George sat up, his eyes adjusting to the bright room. The clouds that had covered the sky for the last couple of days were finally beginning to clear. Sunlight streamed in the window through gaps in the clouds. "I'm hungry," He complained, lying back down and clutching his stomach.

"Well if you'd get up we could make breakfast."

"But I'm too tired," George made a face and closed his eyes again.

"Someone's clearly not a morning person," Clay teased playfully. He grabbed his friends wrist, trying to pull him up but the boy refused. "George, stop being lazy."

He swatted Clay's hand away. "I want breakfast in bed," George pleaded, making puppy dog eyes.

"Yeah and I want a million dollars, we all want things we can't have. Now get up!" Clay threw a pillow at him.