The Gay Gatsby

Chapter 27: In Which Chance Gets WET

Author's Note: *Screams* FILLER FILLER FILLER FILLER FILLER feat. FUTILE DRAMA

So can you guess what kind of chapter this is? (Hint: Ends with 'iller' and starts with 'F')

It was necessary though; to relieve built up tension in the story, set up future plot and all that jazz.

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 27: In Which Chance Gets WET

"There must have been moments even that afternoon when Daisy tumbled short of his dreams -- not through her own fault, but because of the colossal vitality of his illusion."

      -F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

Chance

I was lost in a world situated between the warm caress of dreams, and the cold grasp of reality, as a voice beckoned.

"Psst Cal . . . Blondie!"

I roused from my sleep, realizing that the cold grasp was Callaway's arms wrapped around me. His hands were icy against my skin, but I made no move to detach them.

Instead, I opened an eye at the voice, gaze being met to the somberness of a room, faintly illuminated by the radiance of a phone shining at us from the doorway.

"Chance!"

My eyes adjusted to the lighting, attempting to focus on the speaking figure.

"Jasper?" I questioned, voice groggy from sleep. "What is it?"

Jasper peered at me with blank eyes - looking as if he had forgotten why he was there.

"Well I mean, it's past midnight and I was just wondering if you were gonna stay for the night and if you . . ." Jasper looked around awkwardly, ". . . wanted some pizza? I doubt that Callaway fed you anything and - "

"Fuck you."

I could feel the voice rumble through me as the lump attached to me spoke. Callaway's voice was rough, and  I could feel him wriggling around to sit up, taking me with him. His arms lifted me up to face Jasper in the omniscience of the room.

Jasper laughed softly. "Well, not all of us are robots capable of surviving days without food."

Callaway grumbled from his spot at my neck, face nestled there.

"Chance, you're staying," he asserted. "But are you truly needing of alimentary nourishment in form of greasy carbs at this hour of the day?"

"Hey! Don't talk about pizza like that. I know you love it," I chuckled into his hair.

This resulted in more grunting from Callaway as he huddled closer to my body.

"You're not leaving. If you are really necessitating food, then I'm certain my brother would be ever so altruistic as to bring it to you. Right?"

"Hey - I offered pizza, not room service."

I laughed, "It's fine guys, I'm not hungry anyway."

Warm breath fanned my neck. "Good."

Jasper peered at us, distinct look of uncertainty graving his face. "I guess I'm just gonna leave you guys to . . . gay. Please don't have sex, thanks."

And he left, heavy footsteps padding against the wooden flooring, a faint hum upon his lips.

"Your brother's weird," I remarked, gazing at where said individual had just been standing.