Separation Anxiety

Chapter Four | Dream??

Clay woke up having his head lodged under George's neck. George was so warm, Clay refused to move. He softly placed his arm around George's waist. He breathed in his scent, he smelled beautiful.

Clay realized what he was thinking and doing was not normal, but he did not care. He needed this... he needed George. Clay decided to go back to sleep.

Clay woke up to an empty bed and immediately felt a sense of panic. "George!" he called out, his heart racing. A few moments later, George rushed into the room, looking concerned. "What's wrong?" he asked, his brow furrowed.

Clay took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "I'm sorry," he said, feeling embarrassed. "I didn't know where you were."

George's expression softened. "It's okay," he reassured Clay. "I was just in the kitchen making some toast."

Clay nodded, feeling relieved. He couldn't help but feel a sense of attachment to George, even though he knew it wasn't necessarily wise. "Okay, thanks," he said, looking up at George.

Why was I being like this? I know damn well not to get attached to someone in the life I am living in.

"No worries." Clay followed George to the kitchen.

George ate in somewhat silence after what happened.

George glanced over at Clay and noticed he hadn't touched his toast. "You gonna eat that?" he asked, gesturing to the plate.

Clay stared down at the burnt slice of bread and felt his stomach turn. He knew he needed to eat something, but the thought of putting that in his mouth was almost unbearable. "Uh, yeah, I'll eat it later," he mumbled, hoping George wouldn't push the issue.

Thankfully, George seemed to let it go and changed the subject. "So, you had a nightmare last night?" he asked, looking at Clay with concern. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Clay shifted in his seat, feeling uncomfortable. "Not really," he muttered, avoiding eye contact. He didn't like to admit to his weaknesses, and talking about his nightmares made him feel vulnerable.

George sensed that Clay was a private person who preferred to keep his thoughts and feelings to himself, especially when it came to sharing with George. "I get it," he said with a nod, deciding not to press the issue.

Before he could say anything else, there was a knock at the door. George got up to answer it, with Clay following closely behind. When George opened the door, he was surprised to see the same men in suits he had met a few days earlier.

"What are you doing here?" Clay stepped forward in front of George.

Was he following us?

"Do you know Clay?" George turned to Clay and he frowned.

Why the hell was he here again?

"Yeah, he was at my house a few days ago," Clay turned to George with a nervous look on his face.

"Clay, can we talk to you for a moment, please?" the man in the suit asked, addressing Clay directly. George stepped in front of Clay, his body language defensive. "Who are you and why are you following him?" George demanded, his voice low and threatening.

Clay felt a surge of fear and hid behind George, feeling grateful for his friend's protective stance. "It will only take a minute," the man persisted, trying to reason with them.

George's face hardened with anger. "The answer is no," he said firmly, blocking the man from entering the apartment. The first man in the suit pulled out a walkie-talkie and spoke into it. "Can I have backup, please? I don't know how he is going to react," he said, voice tense.