𝙎𝙇𝙀𝙀𝙋𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙀𝙉𝙀𝙈𝙔 || dream x oc

16

SYDNEY POV

The next day was pretty uneventful. We filmed a few videos and did a stream with some of our mutual friends. Corpse was in the stream and Clay was noticeably irritated with him, but pretty much everyone brushed it off as him being a sore loser. We avoided kissing in any common areas and we didn't really talk much except for filming. I was almost worried he was starting to regret some of the things he'd said to me about his feelings because we hadn't really spoken. I assumed we were both a little unsure of how to proceed and we also didn't want to push the limits of our secrecy.

As I was cooking dinner again, he snuck into the kitchen and we talked while I cooked. Our conversation felt as it had since I'd been here and he snuck some kisses in when the others were distracted. His hands were all over the lower part of my body that was covered by the counter, and I wanted to let the food burn while we went upstairs and fucked again. After we finished dinner we watched a movie before the others went to bed. Clay and I weren't tired, so we went up to his room to watch Real Housewives. We had only made it through about two episodes before he started getting a little restless. "Do you want to go for a walk?" He asked, sitting up slightly.

"Yeah, that sounds nice," I smiled sitting up next to him. "If you want to spice it up a little I have some contraband," I wiggled my eyebrows a little. I jumped up, ran into my room, and came back with a box of cigarettes and a lighter in the back pocket of my jeans. "Half of these are cigarettes and the other half are joints."

"You're so hot," he laughed, snatching the box from me and rifling through the container. "How did you get these through TSA, you little criminal?"

"I've only gotten 'caught' once, I just said that the weirdly shaped ones were hand-rolled. I'm sure they knew but they didn't seem to care." I shrugged, taking the box back and picking out one joint and tucking it into the pocket of the hoodie he had let me borrow, hoping it wouldn't get crushed. He stood up too, pulling on a jacket then grabbing my hand and leading me downstairs.

"I've smoked like five times maximum, so if I start wigging out don't make fun of me," he laughed, locking the door behind us. 

"I won't," I tried to picture what he looked like high but I couldn't. I was a little surprised he'd smoked before, he didn't really seem like the type. I could imagine how entertaining this was about to be though.

After we got far enough away from the houses and were on the small walking trail behind his neighborhood, I pulled out the joint and retrieved my lighter. I quickly lit it, getting it started before handing it off to Clay. "Holy shi--" he coughed so hard I thought he might make himself puke, waving his hand in front of his face, trying to clear the smoke away. "I might -- I m-- I might die! Is t-this fucking laced?"

I couldn't help but laugh a little as tears pricked in his eyes from the heat of the smoke in his lungs. "You're okay, just breathe," I said, rubbing his arm and taking the joint back from him. He shot me an annoyed look that made me giggle a little, "I know that doesn't help, I'm sorry." We kept walking and trading the joint back and forth until it eventually ran out. We stomped it out carefully before throwing it into a trashcan so it wouldn't catch the whole neighborhood on fire. As we kept walking, we saw a playground and a big field of grass, so we headed in that direction.

We plopped down on the swings, just looking at each other. The park was well lit despite it being so late at night. "We have the same eye color," he said, looking into my eyes with his half-closed ones. "I meant to tell you that earlier."

"What, red?" I laughed, and he started wheezing.

"No, I meant the green part, stupid. You have little brown dots in yours though, it's pretty." We sat there laughing like idiots for a few minutes, swinging gently.