flower fields

memory #3

memory #3, start.
george.
july 21, 2513.

clay was one of those stars just waiting to wane. he couldn't wrap his read around everything starting in february. i couldn't either, but i learned. i learned how i could. not in the best way possible, but still.

he was a quick learner though, not so quick with whatever 'everything' meant. but, he picked up on things quite fast. like, he had a lot of hobbies.

knitting, skateboarding, rollerblading, writing, even painting. he was skilled.

"george look at the painting i did!" an excited 16 y/o clay pointed to a canvas on his wall, a beautiful view of what looks like new york city from above.

"it's beautiful, clay." i smile as i see him happily stim. his form of showing his happiness makes me want to do it with him.

"thank you!!" he runs over to me and hugs me tightly. i return the favour and smile.

"de rein, mon amour." (translation: you're welcome, love.) i giggle as he gives me a confused look, "it's french for you're welcome."

"what does the other part mean? i don't think it's just 'da rain' or whatever you said." he smirks slightly.

"oh, i said um.." i get flustered and look away. i didn't really mean to call him love. "it was just a nickname." i finished and out my head in my hands.

"what..kind of nickname, george?" he questioned in a weird tone. i couldn't decipher what kind of tone it was. i still can't.

"a friendly one." i quickly said, my response earning a chuckle from the younger.

"okay." he decided not to push me any further, thank god.

i can't remember if that was the last time that i saw him genuinely happy. i think it was.

and that, that sucks knowing that fact. want to know what else sucks?

knowing that i can't move on because deep down i still wish and prey every night that he comes back.

and that sucks most.

i miss him.

"what're you doing?" i question the taller who's sitting at his desk playing minecraft.

"setting innocent people on fire and destroying their town." he said proudly.

"you're so weird." i start pull his beanbag chair closer to his desk so i can sit before he interrupts me.

"leave it, sit on my lap." he spins in his chair, patting his lap with his left hand, right hand still on his mouse.

"okay." i stuttered out, walking over before hesitating to sit down.

but yes, i did sit on his lap and watch him commit arson in a video game. i did start to get uncomfortable and admittedly, he offered to..help ease that uncomfortable feeling but i quickly denied due to the embarrassment.

"if you say so." he mumbled in disappointment. i'll make it up to him later.

the next thing i remember was me walking back in his office with a bucket of ice cream and two spoons. talk about all you can eat.

"what is this about?" he inquired me.

"an apology, for earlier. i felt bad because i turned your advances down. so, ice cream?"

"i can't say no to royal fudge." he chuckled as i gladly opened the container, clay immediately digging in.

god, anything and everything he does is so endearing.
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memory #3, end.
596 words.
dnfishere: so sorry for the short chapter! it's 12:40am as i'm writing this and i have school tomorrow so i quickly rushed this and i'm hoping you can take this short chapter:) je t'aime, bonne nuit 🫶🫶