International Relation(ship)s

Chapter 12

It had been a couple of weeks since Clay spoke to Nick, and, although it was a little awkward at the start, he was pleased to have rekindled that friendship once again. His mind was still plagued with the thought of George, George's soft lips, the little golden flecks in George's eyes that you could only see up close, the soft brush of George's fingertips on the nape of his neck. And so the only solution he could really see to this infuriating infatuation was to consult with Floris once again.

"You did what !?" Floris practically shouted.

"Shush! Someone might hear you, idiot." Clay said hurriedly, poking Floris' arm. "Yes, I might have kissed George- well technically he kissed me but-"

"What- so the Prince of England just- just kissed you?" Floris interrupted him, eyes wide in shock. He was grinning as Clay would have expected but there was something else, something... he couldn't place behind his eyes also. Clay couldn't bring himself to think about it though.

"Well- yeah sort of?! I mean we'd kinda been joking around all evening - not that I thought any of it was serious - but then I kissed this actress at New Year for a dare and he just- like- disappeared? And then I went to find him and then he was mad at me and then he kissed me and then ran off-"

"Was it a good kiss at least?" Floris rolled his eyes mischievously, placing his hand on Clay's forearm.

"Floris!"

"Well- was it?"

Clay groaned, his cheeks burning hot red, "Yes, it was a good kiss, okay? It was- it was soft, and warm- and- and- why else would I have been fucking obsessing over it since it happened-"

The grip on his forearm tightened and Floris leaned a little closer, "Was it just a peck- or with tongue- or-"

"Oh my gosh ! I'm going to go talk to Niki in a second-"

"Wait no don't leave! I'm done!" Floris hurriedly said, and Clay just chuckled, giving him a playful shove.

"Thank you. He's not texted me since though, what do I do?"

"Maybe he's just nervous-" Floris's expression suddenly dropped, and he pulled away from Clay for a second.

"Wait, weren't there all those photos of the Prince kissing that girl yesterday?"

"Huh?" Clay's excitement was lost and he watched impatiently as Floris grabbed his phone and tapped at it for a few seconds before turning the screen to face Clay. Indeed there was a photo of George in a cafe on a date with a brunette model, George holding the door open for the model, even George kissing the model and his heart sunk. "Oh."

"Now we're thinking about it, he does always seem to have been photographed with different girls." Floris added, his hand on Clay's shoulder in an attempt to comfort.

"That is true," Clay mumbled, dejected. "It just- it felt like it meant something, you know? And- and before he kept on telling me I was clueless or something - which I normally am - so that's gotta mean something, right? He was speaking like he wanted me," Clay paused for a second, "He was kissing like he wanted me," He added bashfully, feeling a hot flush rising once again, "and- and I'm always photographed with different girls, aren't I? All the papers had photos of me and that actress after New Years and, yeah, I guess I don't kiss many of my dates but they always think I'm dating someone and- and-"

"Take a breath, Clay," Floris laughed, and Clay's rambles halted. He gave himself another moment to gather his jumbled train of thought into a coherent sentence once again, took a deep breath, and started speaking once again.