AUGUST IS A FEVER

16

After you acquired the Harry Potter books and stuffed them messily into your backpack, George decided to go get comics (manga) he thought Nick would like for when he returned - or when the boys and you found him.

As George walked off you suddenly remembered that Clay was alone and still asleep. Deciding to check up on him, you walked over happily, feeling good after seemingly improving the trust issues between you and George.

You walked into the children's section of the bookstore where the mattresses were located. Clay was still laying on his mattress, but his positioning was altered. He probably moved into a more comfortable position while he was still unconscious.

Pausing for a moment, you watched, enjoying the sight of Clay in such a relaxed state. His chest went up and down, his gloved hand that rested there, rising and falling with it as he breathed the air that surrounded him.

"This is creepy, I should stop." You mumbled to yourself as you decided to look down and away as you began to walk toward the resting Yellow. You hated to disturb his slumber, but you knew you had to wake him up sooner or later.

You brought your hand up and poked his shoulder to try and get him to stir awake. Unbeknownst to you, Clay was a heavy sleeper and it would take more than that to get him awake and moving.

As a soft groan of annoyance escaped your lips you took your finger and with the focus of your mind, it began to burn in your fire. Your finger inched above the boy's nose, just far enough to where you wouldn't accidentally burn his skin, but he could still smell the light grey trail of smoke that emitted from it.

Clay's nose began to flare at the faint smell of smoke. After a few moments, his eyes shot open and he sat up.

"Oh, it's just you." Clay sighed with relief.

"The one and only." You replied as you shook the fire from your finger out. "Glad to see you're up."

"And all thanks to you." Clay grumbled sleepily.

He began to tumble back to the mattress in an attempt to try and squeeze in a few more minutes of sleep only for you to grip ahold onto his hoodie and yank him right back up into a sitting position.

"Ah-ah-ah, not on my watch." You jokingly chastised Clay, earning an annoyed groan from him. "We need to go get my clothes remember?"

Clay sighed. "Right."

"M'kay, let's go then!" You said as you sprung up from the mattress, swinging your backpack over your shoulder and waiting for Clay to sit up.

Before you could even think about it, you found yourself inside of some clothing store. You excitedly flipped through the clothing, examining some of them before you decided they weren't clothes you would like to wear - even in a post-apocalyptic world.

Some clothes you found and liked, like long skirts or dresses, but you remembered that you were on the run and maybe these types of clothing weren't exactly appropriate. After you grabbed all the clothing you thought you needed from the racks, things like denim jeans and shorts, shirts and hoodies, hair ties and hair brushes, you decided you had gathered everything you needed.

As you were about to walk out of the store your eye caught a dress that you thought was gorgeous. It was a white dress that would end just above your knees. Trying it on wouldn't hurt, right? Plus, it's on the shorter side so you wouldn't trip on the fabric if you needed to run.

"Are you done here?" Clay asked as he noticed you hesitating to leave the store.

"Not quite." You answered as you grabbed his hand and walked over to the dress, him tagging along as you tugged him by his hand.

You took the hanger that held the dress and began to make your way to the fitting room you saw earlier. As you were just about to walk into the changing room, you stopped walking and turned to look at Clay. Your free hand went to his chest and you lightly pushed him back, not hard enough to send him tumbling to the floor, but with just enough force to where he took a few steps back.

"Wait here." You told Clay as you looked up at him. His eyes where half-lidded from the sudden contact from the center of his chest to your hand. Clay's mouth was slightly ajar as he nodded.

"Uh-huh." He mumbled.

"Okay. Good." You replied as you slipped into the fitting room.

You thought back to the weird interaction as you began to shed your clothing. Once you were just in your underwear you looked in the thin mirror on the wall of the fitting room stall.

The white fabric of the sports bra you wore was thin and had no support for your chest. Just a thin covering that the camp employees passed out to all the girls once they realized that they didn't stay flat forever. You could still see the PSI symbol (Ψ) on it, embroidered into the fabric - the one you had seen everywhere throughout Thurmond before your escape.

Suddenly there was a small knock on the door from Clay's knuckle. "Everything okay?"

You gulped nervously before answering. "Yeah. Almost done, just give me a sec."

"Okay." Said Clay as you heard him back away from the door of the fitting room, the sounds of his heels hitting the linoleum tiles below his sneakers were quiet.

After tugging the white dress off of it's hanger, you stepped into it and brought the loose straps onto your shoulders. When you went to reach for the zipper, it hit you that you couldn't. You groaned as you realized you had to ask Clay such a cliche question.

You unlocked the door and slowly opened it until you saw him keeping a look out. You stepped out fully, walking to Clay.

"Hey, can you, uh -" You sputtered, laughing nervously out of embarrassment. "Can you zip my dress up, please?"

Clay's face lit up, almost going pink. It was hard to tell because of the lighting but you could've sworn he was flustered himself.

"Uh, yeah. Sure." He replied. "Turn around for me, yeah?" He gestured for you to spin around with his finger. A strange bubbly feeling erupted deep in your stomach, but you ignored it.

"Mmhmm." You replied as you did as he said, trading in words for a hum in fear of stuttering and embarrassing yourself even further.

You felt him reach for the zipper but fumbled with it as he had trouble grabbing it with his gloved hands. He cursed under his breath as he kept struggling with it. Having enough, you turned around and grabbed his gloved hands.

"Huh?" He softly mumbled. You began to slowly tug off his gloves, looking into his eyes in search for discomfort. "What if I accidentally shock you?"

"I know you won't." You said as you pulled the yellow gloves off of his hands completely. "I trust you. You just need to trust yourself." After you said that, you turned around and waited.

Clay hesitated, but he inched his hands towards the small of your back where the zipper was. He grabbed onto it (more easily this time) and began to zip it up, painfully slow. It was as if he was trying to savor every bit of this moment with you. Every now and then, he would slip and his hands would touch the bare skin of your back. You had to fight back a shiver as the loose straps of the dress fell off of your shoulders.

Once he finished zipping you up, you thought he was done, but then you felt his hands drag up to your shoulders. His hands purposefully touched your skin, his nails and the tips of his fingers lightly brushing against you as he inched towards the straps. He brought them up and back onto your shoulders, his hand resting there for a moment before he pulled away and you turned to face him.

"There we go." Said Clay. "All done."