clay's head jerked in the direction of the voice, but he shouldn't be surprised.
of course it's george.
why wouldn't it be?
he always seemed to find the boy somewhere, as if they were destined to always see each other somewhere.
"what the fuck?" he hissed as george planted a foot in front of him, stopping his skateboard. "where the fuck did you come from?"
george's lips twitched up. "i got no fucking clue. i got lost after about ten minutes."
clay sighed, "so that's fun, because i got no clue either."
he eyed george. the boy also seemed to be in pajamas. a loose, dark-blue long-sleeved shirt and black sweatpants. his hair was all ruffled up and his eyes seemed a bit tired.
so, clay asked, "did you sleep after you told us?"
george shrugged, "i guess, not really, i couldn't sleep."
clay hummed, "couldn't relate." in which george rolled his eyes and said, "so, are we gonna try and find our way back."
clay shook his head and stepped off his skateboard, sitting down on it. "nah, i'm gonna stay for a while, i kind of like the peace and quiet... and that it's so mysterious 'cause we've never been here--and it's the middle of nowhere."
george hummed, "can i stay?"
clay nodded and george sat down on his skateboard beside him. that's when clay really noticed the boy's skateboard. it seemed to be blue, with intricate designs of glitching.
suddenly curious about something, he asked, "so, do you have any actual reasons to hate me?"
george was silent for a good few minutes and clay felt a smirk grow on his face as the boy finally answered, "nope. you just seemed annoying, and i was correct."
clay rolled his eyes. "so, i'm guessing you still hate me?"
george laughed, "yep. but not as much as i used too."
"the feeling's mutual."
there was silence and clay deadpanned, "you have an accent."
"no shit sherlock, but yes, i do, congrats on noticing"--george gave him a very slow clap--"i'm from england."
clay said, "cool. when did you move here?"
"four years ago, when i was thirteen."
the blond's eyes widened. "you're seventeen too?"
george narrowed his eyes. "you're seventeen?"
clay nodded. "yes, yes, I am, and since you said four years ago when you were thirteen, i'm guessing you are too... how old did you think i was?"
"an annoying ass twenty-year old."
he huffed, "oh, that's not as bad as i thought."
george tilted his head. "how old did you think i was?"
clay sneered, "fourteen or something."
"what the fuck!" george screeched, earning a wheeze from clay, which got george to widen his eyes and let out a surprised laugh. "what the fuck is that laugh?"
clay flipped him off, "oh fuck off."
george raised his hands in 'surrender'. "i was curious. you sound like a fucking tea kettle."
again, he flipped the boy off and george only laughed.
they talked for a good while, learning a bit more about each other.
clay learned that george had also been skateboarding for a long time, like himself.
"so," george said, "what's your favorite color?"
"what type of question is that?"
"a question that literally everybody asks, mr. 'what's your favorite movie."
"okay, fair point. green--more specifically, lime green. you?"
"blue, but like that's once of the only colors i can see, i'm colorblind."
clay's eyes snapped to the boy. "oh shit, really?"
george nodded, letting out a hum.
"wait," clay said, "so what color are my eyes?"
"yellow. piss yellow."
clay stuck out his tongue. "well, that's fun."
george's gaze immediately shifted towards clay's face. "you also have a tongue piercing?"
he raised a brow. "you never noticed?"
"what do you mean, 'you never noticed'?" george scoffed. "it's not like i'm looking at your mouth all day. i only noticed your lip one, not your tongue."
clay hummed. "well, the answer to your very stupid question is yes, i do have have one."