Stay Inside (by my Side) : Gream/DreamNotFound

21. Blue Roads

Clay was already putting his shoes on while glancing at the clock on the living room wall. Sunset was due in two hours, which was the perfect amount of time to drive down to the waterfront and set up.

George pranced over to the door, swinging the bag. Its contents rumbled ominously and he stopped in his tracks, remembering that the food could easily spill.

He passed the bag to Clay and bent down to put on his own shoes before exiting the apartment. The garage welcomed them as them as the boys approached Clay's car. George tied the bag and settled it into the backseat, buckling it in.

"What are you doing?" Clay laughed at the sight of the lumpy cloth bag strapped in his car.

"Oh, I'm sorry, do you want your leather interior covered in chow mein?" George smirked.

They got in and instantly pulled the roof down before rolling out of the gates and onto the streets. George couldn't control his glee as the summer wind whipped his hair. He was taken back to that beautiful evening, when the sky burned like an ember and ignited his spirit.

"Take the long way there," George laughed, sticking an arm out the window.

They flew past houses and shops, catching every green light. Soon enough, the road narrowed to a familiar set of streets, and before long they were riding in the green fields filled with an array of wildflowers.

George hung his head out the window, trying to burn the image into his memory. This was one of those places that you couldn't bear to forget, and for George the matter was all too personal. He had one full day before his flight, and he wanted to make it count.

His pulse sped up when he saw the glistening of water from beyond the rolling hills. The grin on his face made his cheeks hurt, but he didn't care. The thing that pulled him away from the view was a rustle off to his left. He turned towards Clay to find a colourful bouquet pointed straight at his face.

"For you," Clay said, making his tone sound exactly like how George had said it before.

George giggled and took the flowers, allowing Clay to return his full attention to the road ahead. He inhaled the scent, letting the tingly sweet pollen gather on his nose. When he looked back up, the car was turning from the thin path onto a concrete road.

The sky was a baby blue, gradually deepening into an indigo at the east. Across from that point, the clouds mixed together in shades of lilac and pink. The sun itself was high enough to still be white, but was beginning to paint its surroundings with the fiery bronze of evening.

Clay pulled into an empty lot and stopped the car at the curb that separated the sidewalk from the beach. He turned off the engine and hopped out, giving his back a good stretch. Sliding onto the hood of his car, he glanced back and watched as George removed the bag from the backseat and came around to join him on the makeshift picnic area. He untied the canvas and carefully arranged its contents on the convex hood.

With a satisfying crack, they opened the drinks and clinked the cans before digging into their takeout. There was enough food to last right up until the sun touched the horizon. At dusk, the boys set their backs against the windshield and watched over the still water.

Clay stifled a laugh and George rolled his eyes.

"I know what you're thinking," he looked at Clay, "I swear to God, don't say it."

"Two men," Clay began, ignoring George, "on a date."

George smacked him on the arm, causing Clay to whistle like a kettle again.

The waves danced carelessly under the sunlight, lapping at the sand. George would have suggested they go set up their picnic on the beach, but he had a love-hate relationship with the gritty sand. He was perfectly content sitting on the car anyway. Sipping from his cool can, he shielded his eyes from the blinding rays of the sun.

Soon, a nearby streetlamp turned on, signaling the beginning of nighttime. The sun was about 3/4 of the way below the horizon, with only a tiny sliver of it peeking over the water. The skies above turned into a blend of royal purple and black before fading out to a dark abyss. The void slowly became occupied by stars, like a needle making pin pricks in the dark fabric. The stars were barely visible due to the city light pollution, but George knew they were there, watching over him.

"This feels familiar, no?" Clay asked, referring to their surroundings. The drinks, the night, and the fact that they were on the hood of their car directly paralleled the scene of Kaiser and Stefan.

"We should have never watched that film," George mumbled.

"Do you think this would have turned out any different if we hadn't?"

George pondered for a moment, imagining what would have happened if he hadn't gotten lost in his overthinking.

"Maybe," he finally said, "but timing-wise it wouldn't matter."

"What do you mean?"

"Film or no film, we're out of time."

He turned to face Clay, but the blond was already looking at him. He had a forlorn expression clouding his features.

"Don't say that," Clay whispered, "we still have one more day. We'll make it count."

"Yeah?" George smiled.

"Of course. Any amount of time with you is perfect for me."

George turned away, rolling his eyes but unable to stop the blush creeping onto his face. Clay simply giggled, taking pride in flustering George.

"You're awful, you know that?" he joked.

"You don't seem to mind," Clay sang.

"I don't," George turned and winked.

"Ugh, stop," the American hid his face in his hands, "you're not supposed to flirt back."

"What are you gonna do about it?"

Clay threw a napkin at George's face, finally putting an end to the torture. A warm breeze drifted from the water and ruffled his hair. Salty air settled over the car, mixing elegantly with the aroma of their takeout.

This is a better movie, Clay thought.