Over the past two months, George had only set four things on fire.
Major things.
Four major things.
Three were in his apartment, and only one was in Clay's.
The first was around two days into the power outage, in the middle of the night.
He was sleeping, when suddenly, he was woken up by the smell of smoke.
Initially, George was terrified. He was overwhelmed by the little orange flames, but at the same time there was a certain warmth about them.
He knew they wouldn't hurt him, but he didn't know how.
George got off the fiery bed, backing up against the wall, somehow still staying calm.
And then, somehow, he reached out, closing his fist, and-
Dropped a bunch of water on it, extinguishing the flames.
He was confused to say the least, but at the same time, it felt familiar.
It was weird.
The second incident was, again, at his apartment.
His roommates used to keep bottles of alcohol in a cabinet over the sink.
But they were also really messy and didn't clean up often.
And were lazy and sometimes knocked bottles over.
And you know what happens when fire meets alcohol.
George accidentally sparked one of his fingers against the bottle when cleaning out the house.
Just like that, the entire cabinet went up in flames.
Letting out a string of curses, George turned on the faucet, and was able to put out the fire.
The last was, as you know, the wonderful catastrophe that occurred after setting his roommate's crap on fire.
Obviously, the smartest decision of all time.
It had spread slowly, and George had only noticed the house being set on fire after it had begun to burn.
He ran outside, to find half of the apartment burning. But at that point, there weren't any sources of water George could tap from to put out the fire.
So after half an hour of freaking out, George left.
The rest of the story, everyone knows.
Of course, George had also accidentally sparked a lot of other things, these were just the, well, worst of them.
As for the one time in Clay's apartment . . .
Bored out of his mind, George was going through a shelf of books in the living room. Clay said that it was just a combination of all of their books they'd collected.
"Hey George," Zak said, flopping down on the couch.
"Hi."
"See anything good?"
"Not yet."
Keep in mind, this was a highly flammable guy, standing next to an entire wall of paper.
"Ooh!" Zak said, "Is that War of Worlds?"
Zak snapped the book into his hand.
"Bro, you have no clue. It's been so long since I've read this book! It used to be my favorite."
George turned back to the shelf, seeing Harry Potter.
"Oh my god, I have a ridiculous picture of me when I was little, I literally was Harry Potter."
He opened the book, when suddenly, it made a piercing scream, and a face appeared in the book, like in Harry Potter.
Of course, George didn't note that at the time, he was too busy accidentally letting his finger spark, and dropping the burning book.
"Oh- OH SHIT!" he cried, gathering water from the air and dumping it on the book.
"What the fuck was that?" he asked Zak, who had a weird expression between genuine fear and bursting out laughing.
"Ummmmmm," Zak said, "Maybe me and Jacob were trying to prank you?"
He gave him a fearful smile.
"Surprise?"
"Well, it was kinda funny, I guess," George admitted. "Until you remember I set a book on fire."
Jacob emerged from behind the kitchen counter.
"Oops, sorry."
"I mean, it was Clay's book."
"Well, technically, it's not a real book."
"Shit, you're getting good at those."
The 'book' disappeared from the floor.
"Okay, well you guys suck," George said, joining Zak on the couch.
"If I set the house on fire again, it's your fault."
a/n: guess what i finished this chapter in a timely manner yayyyyyyyy
HOLY SHIT WHAT I- THANK YOU GUYS FOR 3K READS ACTUALLY THO ILY GUYS SO MUCH :)))
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