𝐐𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦?! | 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝟓. 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭 (𝟐)

A/N: for your reference, here's the link to the apartment floor plan again: https://tinyurl.com/y6mmlcwl

Have fun with this chapter :D

Was now an appropriate time to remark on the exact shade of green in his eyes? Not hazel, nor the grayish kind that could be mistaken for blue; no, it was a true, unambiguous green, like olives or a bottle of wine. That said, you were still trapped. He moved his face closer. Kissing distance, mused a voice in your head. Not like you'd–that'd be ridiculous, right? Haha. Right. "Oh, [Name]," he sang. "Did you forget? Nobody beats me at my own game, and manhunts are very much my–"

You'd let him finish his boast later. You dropped to your knees, and without your shoulders for leverage, Clay lost his balance. With no time to lock the doors behind you, you scrambled past him into his room and then into the living room. You stumbled over a spot of carpet as he gained on you, grabbing a corner of his bedframe for support and making sure he noticed you lifting a corner of his mattress as if to hide something under it. 

It was harder running in jeans, you'd noticed–too rigid. But they fit closely, and that was needed... for the plan. Then, you made for the living room, dashing in a wide circle and opening the refrigerator, freezer, and a number of cupboards. You made one last loop around the living room, back into his room, to the balcony to your room to storage to the living room again, closing doors, flinging sheets and cushions in his way, and being a general nuisance.

Then, you sat on the couch and waited for his return.

He seemed baffled to find you there. "Given up already?"

"Stop," you panted, holding your hands up. "I've hidden it. You chased me all over the house but you won't find it." Was this going to work?

He scoffed. "C'mon, I bet I know where it is already. No funny business, [Name]. Come with me."

Following him, you tried to swallow your nerves. But it'd work best if you were confident, wouldn't it? You sighed internally. You weren't built for mind games. 

The first stop was his room, as he'd remembered you lifting his mattress. He raised the same corner and looked under it. He laughed, picking up a sleek black rectangle. "Really, [Name]? It was right there? The first place I looked? C'm–" You watched the realization dawn on him. He flipped it over, but there was no screen, no time, no welcoming interface. It was his case.

"Gotcha! I was slow enough for you to see, but fast enough for you not to see the difference." You bounced up and down in glee. "All part of the mASTER pL–"

"–Okay." He slowly exhaled. "That's okay, maybe you're better than I thought."

"You totally underestimated me."

"I'm still finding it."

"Try."

Clay, to his credit, made a tremendous effort. He prowled every single room, looking under every bed, opening, emptying, and refilling every cabinet, and reaching between every couch cushion–he even tried the refrigerator. You stuck to your word, trailing him as he turned his apartment upside down. He wouldn't find it, though. You were so confident you told him so.

"Clay! Oh, Clay! You will never ever find your phone," you singsonged. "Best just to give up and admit that I'm the coolest ever."

"Where is it?" He huffed. "Are you sure it's in the house?"

"Oh, certainly."

"It's not in your pocket?"

You did a dramatic and slow spin for him. "Nope, not at all."