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There were two things keeping me awake at night. The first thing was the fact that Clay kept tossing and turning every two seconds, which to be honest gave me anxiety. And the second, more dominant one was Nick's snoring.

It started off normal, with deep, noisy breaths. But as the time went on the noises he made became animalistic almost.

From the way Clay was moving I could tell that he wasn't asleep too. So I rolled to the edge of the bed and hung my arm to poke his back. He turned around.

"Hi." I looked down at him.

"Hi." He whispered back, propping himself on one elbow.

"Why is he so loud?" I was trying my best to keep my voice down.

"I have no idea."

My phone buzzed just as he said that. And knowing that I left the notifications on only for certain chats, I decided to check.

"George just woke up," I squinted at the screen, "he's asking if he can call."

We understood each other with a single look. Leaving the bedroom on our tip toes, we headed towards the kitchen which was the farthest from the bedroom.

We looked like teenagers sneaking out of the house. Everything seemed comedic: the fact that we were sneaking out of the bedroom to answer a call from George, the fact that we didn't sleep on the same bed even though we had done it a few times before.

And just as we reached the kitchen, George texted me that he was going to call in a few minutes.

"You weren't kidding about the car engine part." I remembered when Clay described Nick's snoring a few weeks ago.

"Once he fell asleep on discord and all of us had to just leave." He laughed, running his fingers through his hair.

I just noticed how delicate he looked. His undereyes were a bit darker than usual, hair messier than usual. He had shaved the previous day too, which made his cheeks look soft.

And all of that made me realize that I probably looked like I survived a shark attack.

"I probably look like a raccoon, don't I?" I remembered the choice of not taking off my mascara before bed.

"Well.. a cute raccoon." Something about his smile made my insides feel fuzzy.

"How bad is it actually?" I opened my front camera to answer my own question and saw the disaster, "Oh shit, nevermind."

He giggled at my words, coming a bit closer to look how bad it was. And without hearing a word, I felt his thumb caress the skin right under my eye. I'm surprised I didn't flinch.

"It's not coming off." He looked amazed that he couldn't take off the waterproof mascara by rubbing it with his thumb.

I was trying to say something but he was so concentrated, cupping my cheek with the whole palm to steady my head and desperately trying to wipe the mascara off with the thumb.

I made the wrong choice. I looked up at his eyes. And even though he was already looking down at mine, he somehow managed to deepen the eye contact. Maybe it was because his hand froze on my cheek.

The green in his eyes was less visible under the dim lighting. And all I could see was how dilated his pupils were.

I could feel the distance disappearing between us gradually, and we were both to blame. I didn't even feel how I got on my tip toes and how he leaned down enough for me to feel his breath tickle my face.

Just as our noses touched and I closed my eyes, the obnoxious sound of my ringtone echoed through not only the room, but I'm sure our bones also. We both jumped in both fear and surprise, coming back to our senses. Or losing them completely.

"Motherfucker.." I heard Clay mumble under his breath.

I swallowed the lump of nervousness in my throat and accepted the call, thanking god it wasn't a videocall.

"HeEy-" and my voice broke on the first word I said. Embarrassing..

"Are you hiccuping?" I'd be weirded out if George the Sherlock didn't notice every single change in my voice tone.

"No- I.. no I'm not."

I was scared to look at Clay's face. I knew I was fucking up badly, and he knew that he was the reason.

"Are you okay?" George laughed.

My braincells weren't present and I could feel it. The whole thing was too much to process, and handling George at the same time wasn't the easiest thing.

Clay came to the rescue. I flinched from the skin contact when he took the phone away from me. I took a step back in a defensive manner.

"Hi, Gogy." He started speaking casually. But he had a bit of anger in his voice..?

"Oh. Hello, Clay," the way he said it was more than a 100 words, "what happened to Lizzy?"

"She's okay, don't worry. Just tired."

Just when I thought things couldn't get more chaotic, I saw Nick's silhouette getting closer and closer to the kitchen door. Soon he appeared, rubbing his eyes and squinting at the same time.

At the first thought I felt bad about waking him up. But little did I know that he practically saved us by stealing the phone and talking to George himself.

And when he finished I was already partially coming back to myself, trying to block what happened as I followed them to the bedroom and tried to sleep as if nothing happened.

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