After Fire - Dreamnotfound

Two|rule one

November 2nd
Three rules. Clay and I had three rules to follow, and we had somehow managed to break all three of them in a matter of twelve hours.

Insufferable was the only way George knew how to describe his host brother. Along with terms along the lines of disrespectful, unnecessarily rude, and an entire list of profanity he wouldn't typically say in the presence of his parents. However, George had lived with people like him his entire life and he already knew to brush off all his little insults and backhanded compliments.

George sat at the breakfast table as his phone was spammed with Wilbur's messages telling him to have a good day at school and to stop trying to snoop at every passing person's soulmate mark (though, George didn't know how Wilbur knew he was doing that in the first place). He tried keeping up with the spam to the best of his abilities as a door creaked open from the hallway and Clay emerged with his headphones already in and his black backpack slung over his shoulder.

"Mornin' Clayton," George said without glancing up from his phone.

"Morning, George." He slid into the seat across from him, and George gave him a sideways look. Clay checked his phone before setting it face-down on the table and sighing. His green eyes met George's. "What the fuck are you looking at?"

"The giant zit on your forehead."

"What?" He brought his hand up to his forehead, causing George to laugh.

"You fall for it every time."

Clay scowled and pulled George's cereal across the table and spat in it.

"What the hell?" George said.

"You're right. Where are my manners?" He spat in the cereal again and mixed it around with the spoon before sliding it across the table.

"Just take it." George slid the bowl back.

"Ew, no. It's already been tainted by Bitch Boy germs. I don't want to catch AIDs or something."

"You're an idiot. That's not how AIDs works."

"I wouldn't know. I don't have it. But I certainly get more action than you do."

"A D in health class hardly counts as action."

Clay scoffed. A pathetic comeback. More pathetic than his usual ones, especially early in the morning. George's eyes flickered between his phone and the teenage boy in front of him. Clay gazed out the window at the tall trees outside that had been dampened by the overnight rain. The sky was a crystal blue with fluffy white clouds of all different sizes and shapes. Yet, George wasn't sure if that was what the younger boy was looking at. It looked as if he was staring at a ghost in the window that he could see and George could not.

"Why'd you come home after curfew last night?" George asked to fill the silence, but also because he found himself curious to the point it was the last thing he thought about the night before and his first thought upon waking up.

Clay snapped from his thoughts. "What?" Before George could repeat himself, he was cut off. "Oh. I was supposed to stay the night at Sapnap's, but I didn't."

"Why not?"

Clay picked up his phone. "Because I didn't feel like it. By the way, I'm hanging out with Bad and Skeppy today, so get your own friends."

George scowled. "What? No. You can't just hog our friends—"

"Our friends?" Clay shook his head. "No, they're my friends that you stole."

George scoffed and leaned back in his seat, wondering why he bothered to give his host brother a chance at a normal conversation. "Are you serious?"