HER | ✓

⍣Seventeen⍣

The kiss, so full of passion and desire, rendered them deaf and unobservant to the world outside their bubble. So delirious and drunk they were, they didn't hear the creak of the door and continued smacking lips, teeth and hopelessly groping at each other. His hand held her bare thigh around his waist as he pressed her further into the stable walls. Her arms were wrapped around his neck like a boa constrictor and snaked one hand into his hair.

The person who walked in couldn't see them at first. The lamp still hung by Sweeney's stable, only offered a small radius of viewing distance. But if they squinted just enough they could make out the shadow of two bodies pressed against one another. They picked up the lamp and strode forward.

They were already a bit out of breath. After hearing Farah's scream come through the thin paneled windows they flung out of bed and rushed out the door towards the stables.

"What the frickin heck?" They yelled.

Clayton dropped Farah in an instant and she pushed him away. She looked like a deer caught in headlights, her eyes the size of silver dollars. Fear raced through their hearts as they tried to catch their breath.

"I-I-I can explain," Clayton said, feeling rattled.

"Can you?" George asked. He stood shirtless, cold, holding the lamp high in the sky. Farah and Clayton could see the fury on his face as clear as day.

"I-" Clayton sighed. "No, I can't. I really can't."

"What about you?" George directed his attention at Farah. Her hair was crumpled on one side and small blemishes stood out on her neck and collarbone. She shook her head, her swollen lips fastened shut.

"What a sad sight." George walked forward, grabbed her upper arm and made her walk to the other end of the stables. She wouldn't look at him.

Clayton, filled with guilt, sunk to the dirt and straw floor. This was all his fault. George was going to hate him for the rest of his life. He destroyed what little relationship he had with his brother and he destroyed George's relationship with Farah. He sat there feeling like the miserable lout he thought he was.

"What the heck is this?" George whispered, loud enough for Clayton to hear. He picked up his head and watched their interaction.

She shrugged, still refusing to give him eye contact. George put his hand under her chin and guided her eyes to his. His lips moved and Clayton couldn't make out what he was saying to her. He watched as the expression on her face fell farther downward and her lips turned down as though she were ready to cry.

He jumped to his feet.

"Hey, leave her alone. Take it up with me. It's my fault this happened. Not hers," Clayton said from across the stables. He wanted George to come at him.

"Shut up," George said in reply and went back to talking to her.

"I'm sorry Farah," Clayton said.

"I told you to shut up," George snapped.

"And what if don't?" He asked. George moved and Farah's hand shot out and grabbed his arm. She whispered a few things and nodded her head. The exchange felt weird. Weren't fists supposed to be flying, words yelled, feelings hurt? Clayton didn't like how calm George seemed to be and shifted on his feet, but nonetheless he was ready for whatever was to be thrown at him.

"If people find out they're to crap their pants for sure."

That was the last thing he heard before George guided her through the stable doors and back inside. He stayed late in the barn half expecting George to come back out there and give him an old fashioned fight, but George never showed and that only worsened Clayton's nerves. He knew he screwed up big this time.

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AN: Short I know, but you'll see why. And what do you think George was saying to Farah?

Thanks for reading!