MASK! DREAMNOTFOUND

17

SONG: Two Birds, Regina Spektor

GEORGE

I don't know what's worse, my parents finding out about my robotic creations or staying with Clay late at night in the basement of the an abandoned home where fugitives stayed until trail. It was late, I knew my parents were curious, I would leave straight after dinner hidden from the guards, landscapers and pedestrians. I would make my way down the pathway of the misfortune and talk the night away with the blonde that seemed to hate being inside a cell of iron bars.

Right now, as a storm erupted on top of the cement cell, I sat on the cold drainage floors. Clay laid in between my legs, his head rested on my chest, looking up as I played with his outgrown hair. So close that I dreaded for this moment, all my nerves and scares that faced me this few whole months faded the moment that Clay and I stayed in silence.

As I played with his head, admiring the top of his scalp where his hair began to turn white, he softly sang a tune into the dark depths of the cell.

"Your hair is going white." I mentioned and he just nuzzled into my sweater deeper.
"I know, its a negative type of mutation kids get when a birth vaccination is given to them." He softly lifted his hands in between mine, grazing his rings against my skin to pick a piece out and examine it between his delicate and long fingers.

"Y'know, it's contagious."
Straight away I threw my hands to my hair, thinking that if I touched it I would notice a difference in color. Clay only laughed, it wasn't the usual mischievous one I was used to, this one was subdued.

"Keep telling me things I don't want to hear and you'll be cuddling the floor." I nudged his torso quickly away yet he just came nuzzling back, his breath heavy as it escalated through my veins, making my limbs weak.

"You would never abdomen me like that would you?"  He mumbled into the cotton.
"Fair enough." I looked outside to watch the rain slowly hit the glass above. All Clay had to see the world out of was so small, it wouldn't matter anyway, as he normally despised it.

"You know, for someone so dangerous you sure love to little spoon." I cleared the silence and that had ruined his mood to then stand and pace around the room.

"Clay I was just-"
"I know." Is all he replied.

He was normally like this, would want you to touch him, kiss him, hold him and then the next minute he would want you as far away from him as possible. Our relationship was like Clay's mental health. Unstable and insane.

Yet our relationship was only growing as I could see that Clay was slowly dying.

He then turned, his vibrant green eyes glowing as if he was hunting prey. He slowly approached me and then spread my legs, mending himself back into my warmth of a chest.
"Sorry." Is all he whispered as I played with his hair again, heavy breathing escaped the room.

"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure Clay."
"If you needed to kill me, would you do it?"

I thought for a moment, he was ridiculous, his tone sounded as if it was a joke yet his face radiated seriousness.
"You must be joking?"
"Do I look like I'm joking George, would you?"

My palms began to become sweaty but then he know faced me, crisscrossed as he held my hands in his. The only sound being the fallen rain and thunder.
"If it ever needs to happen, promise me George, you'll kill me."