lemon boy // sleepy bois inc. (ON PAUSE)

☆2☆

"Alright, but be very careful," he said. He bent down to our height, smiling at us. He adjusted Wil's coat, and then made sure my shoes were tied properly. "Dav- Techno, make sure to call me if something happens. Wil, make sure Techno doesn't break another bone."

"Yes, sir!" Wil saluted, smiling a crooked smile at him. Phil smiled back, patting him on the shoulder.

"Alright, go," he said, pushing us out the door, almost eager to see us leave. Once we were through the threshold of the door, the door shut quickly behind us. Wil and I both turned our heads to face each other before breaking out laughing.

We ran down the long driveway, Wil running beside me this time. Once we were at the bottom, we made our way down the road and up the cul-de-sac. We cut through the backyards of the cul-de-sac's houses, dodging trees left and right.

Wil kept giggling as we were running through the thick trees, almost constantly tripping over fallen logs. We were headed towards a creek in the woods, one we like to visit whenever we have the time.

When we first moved to this neighborhood, the lady across from us had lost her cat, and commanded us to find it for her. We ended up finding the creek instead, and declared it as ours. Wil and I built a little shack on the edge of the flowing water, and Wil immediately declared that it should be named Newfoundland, since it was "A new piece of land we just found."

Clearly, he spent too much time researching random, obscure places, and wanted to name our shack a random, obscure name.

Once we saw Newfoundland, sitting as it always did on the side of the water, we dashed towards it, reaching new speeds. Wil was surprisingly ahead of me, jumping over bunny holes and branches like a frog.

"Do you think my Rubix cube is still there- What the hell?" Wil interrupted himself, looking at something inside Newfoundland with disdain on his face.

"What is it- oh." Once I reached Wil, I saw what he was looking at with so much resent.

A stowaway, a poor little peasant boy.

"Excuse me?" Wil said, more in shock than anything else.

"You're excused," the peasant boy replied, chewing on some piece of bread he pulled out of his pocket. He had an English accent, but it sounded either very strong or very American-ized.

"Who the fuck are you?" I elbowed Wil for using profanity, but excused it.

The peasant boy smiled. "Tommy, pleasure to meet you." He looked around Newfoundland, his nose scrunching. "So, this shithole is yours?"

"Hey, it is not a shithole!" Wil defended. "It's beautiful."

"Maybe if you were blind," Tommy grumbled. He held out his measly piece of bread to us, perhaps offering it. "Would you lot like some bread?"

"I don't take handouts, thanks," I dismissed, scrunching my nose and shaking my head.

Tommy shrugged his shoulders, taking a bite out of the bread. "You're loss, it's sourdough."

Wil seemed to come back to reality when he heard Tommy speak again. "Who even are you, how did you get here?"

Tommy looked at Wil with a blank face. "I walked."

"Don't get smart with me," Wil started, walking towards Tommy and pulling him up by the collar.

Tommy dropped his sourdough bread, holding his palms out in defense. "Fellas, calm down! I'm just trying to enjoy my lunch, no need for hostility!"

"Well you kinda signed up for that when you snuck into our camp!" Wil snapped back, making Tommy flinch his head away.

"In my defense, it doesn't say your name anywhere, so really it's free land," Tommy stated, making Wil fume in anger.