Philophobia || Dreamnotfound

9

Clay's POV

"I said, I don't know."

Clay leaned back in his seat, disappointment heavy in his chest. George was lying again, why? George held his stare, not retracting his statement.

Clay's lips thinned and he plopped his elbow on the arm of his chair, rubbing his temples. George looked away and took another bite of his sandwich, the two descending into silence.

The shelves loomed around them, casting shadows in the library's dim light. Out of boredom, Clay picked up a book from the table and flipped through it. George let out a small protest, but Clay just read the back, figuring it was his turn to ignore the prince.

His eyebrows rose at the descriptive back cover. He picked up another and a grin tugged on his lips. He looked to George, who was trying to hide behind his sandwich, cringing.

"You're into this kind of stuff?" Clay asked as he set the romance novel on the table and picked up another.

"No," George muttered quickly.

"Your pile of books says otherwise."

Clay tossed George a smirk, to which the prince flushed. Clay picked up a book and hummed, "This is a good one."

He flipped through Romeo and Juliet, watching George sit up.

"Really?" George asked quietly. "I haven't read that one yet."

Clay nodded, holding the book gingerly. It was one of his favorites. He traced the image on the cover and said to George, "Great book, but it's terribly sad."

"Oh," George muttered, "most of them end that way."

Clay shrugged. He tapped the book. "Still worth the read though."

Clay flipped through the pages, looking for a specific line and saying, "Don't worry, I won't spoil it for you."

He sensed George relax and he almost smiled, but then he remembered that George blatantly lied to him. He held in a sigh and soon he found what he was looking for.

'Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I never saw true beauty till this night.' Clay read the line, his favorite, truthfully, when Romeo and Juliet fall in love.

Clay hadn't thought much about love or being in love, but he supposed he'd want to find the right someone. He hoped he'd be able to fall in love with the winner of the tournament, whoever it was.

He set the book on the table, his fingers leaving it reluctantly. Clay saw George pick up this movement and he sensed the prince's interest in the book grow.

Clay's eyes didn't leave the book as he asked, "Why... why are you so closed off?"

He looked at George. George's eyes widened before they hardened and didn't look away.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Clay's eyebrows furrowed. "I'm always honest with you, why can't you be the same?"

"Because I'm not you, Clay," George said coldly.

"But―"

George cut him off, his voice sharp, "Are you this pushy with all of the princes and princesses?"

"No," Clay muttered.

"Exactly, you've admitted it to yourself. Now leave."

Clay's eyes widened. "What―"

"I said leave," George said coldly, his eyes unforgiving, "I'm sure some other prince would enjoy your company more."

Clay blinked. "Wait, are you talking about Fund―"