A few days pass, thankfully uneventfully and Sam's palm is now healed nicely. It had stung like a bitch for a few days, but has healed fully now and is no longer causing me grief. My fingers flutter across the keys of my piano considerately, a new idea for a tune leaping to mind and weaving its way through my unconscious thoughts. I pause for a moment and sigh, shutting the lid.

I haven't heard from Sam for over 12 hours and I'm starting to get concerned. I've not had this much free time in a while and it's disconcerting. I get up from my spot and stretch out my arms, a delicious crack coming from my spine.

I check my phone, deciding that even though it's late, it's probably quicker and easier to see Sam in person. I shut my door behind me and meander downstairs, pausing when I see the man in question leant against his door.

"Sam?" I ask, his head lolling to the side slightly as he hears his name. His face is scrunched up, tear tracks running down his face and his words are mumbled and incoherent.

"That is my name." He finally murmurs and I roll my eyes, taking another step towards him.

"I'm aware." I respond, bending down to look at him. I've never seen him in a state quite like this and I take a moment to assess my own body, double-checking that he's in no physical pain. It seems, though, that whatever is distressing Sam is purely emotional, and I am less help in that department.

His eyes travel over my face, recognition lighting up his features.

"Elias! I know you!" He says joyously, although his smile is short-lived, a dark cloud coming over his expression.

"I'd hope so, I've been your friend for long enough." I say, pulling an arm underneath his body and pulling him up.

"Best friend." He corrects, attempting to stand on his own two feet. The sight is honestly pitiful and I sigh deeply before reaching down and knocking his knees out from beneath him, deciding it will be entirely easier to carry him.

"Feel like a princess." Sam states, gazing around with squinted eyes and I laugh.

"Come on, princess. Nap time." I say, walking up the stairs slowly and Sam hums contentedly at the idea.

"We should do a lunch date again. Soon. Why don't we ever eat lunch anymore, Eli?" Sam whines and I chuckle.

"Lunch dates? We always eat lunch together, Sam." I mutter, amused at the idea of Sam ever trying to skip a meal. It would be impossible, so the idea of him not eating lunch is just plain ludicrous.

"You always pay, that makes it a date." He states, matter-of-factly and I laugh again at his drunken tone.

"Well then of course you want to do that again, you get a free lunch." I say, attempting to sound scornful but it doesn't seem to work.

"And spend time with you. But also the sub. Daddy needs his foot-long." He mumbles and I cackle out loud, reaching for the handle of my door and shifting Sam in my arms.

"So, the only reason you have lunch with me is to get my foot-long?" I ask and Sam is silent for a moment before dissolving into giggles.

"That sounded so dirty." He says, leaning his head into my shoulder.

"It was intended." I say dryly and Sam nods. I walk through the entrance and nudge the door closed with my foot, strolling into my bedroom and setting Sam down gently. I gently pry one of his hands away from my shirt but he grumbles in discontent.

"Don't go, I'm not angry at you anymore." He mumbles, his eyes closed as he burrows into my covers.

"Why were you angry?" I ask, frowning at the thought and Sam sighs dramatically.

"Fucking dimples." He drawls, poking at my face and I roll my eyes, knowing I won't get any coherent answers from him now.

"I'll be here when you wake up." I say, brushing his hair away from his eyes before leaving the room.

My heart feels heavy at the thought of Sam being angry at me, but I can't fathom why he would be. Perhaps I could ask when he wakes up, although I'm certain he won't have any recollection of any of this when he does. I glance at my clock and note that it's 11pm, which is usually far too early for Sam to be this messy.

I glance at him through the door way, his face now content and peaceful and I feel almost helpless. I can save him from physical pain, but his emotional traumas are all his own and they can be so much more distressing. I sigh and tug my hair in my hands a little before settling down on my little sofa, which is utterly too small to fit a human being my size, but it'll do tonight. I remove my contact lenses and lay back, gazing at nothing in particular and waiting for sleep.

It takes me far longer than usual to fall asleep and it is entirely the fault of the emotional Spanish boy occupying my bed.

_

I wake up with a cruel ache in my neck and very cramped legs. I slide from the sofa and stretch my legs, groaning quietly in satisfaction. I wipe my face with my hands and grimace at the horrible twinge in my neck whenever I turn my head.

I stumble into the shower and after 15 minutes I feel and look noticeably more alive. I dress quickly and typically, deciding not to bother leaving Sam a note as, by now, he knows the drill. I poke my head into my room and find he is still firmly planted in the same position as when I had deposited him there, so I'm fairly sure he's still out for the count. I go to leave but hesitate. I roll my eyes at myself and quickly scrawl a note, leaving it beside his pillow.

I stroll towards our local Starbucks and sigh when I notice Alice behind the counter. I'm not really feeling like social interaction today, although when do I ever feel like social interaction?

I grab the breakfast sandwich, knowing Sam will need the energy and order a large coffee with room for milk and a lemon poppy seed muffin. Call it intuition, but I swear I know what muffin Sam wants before he does.

I pay silently and wait for my name to be called, hoping against hope that perhaps Alice doesn't feel like a friendly chat either. I am, of course, wrong.

"Eli! Good to see you again!" She chirps, not giving over my order just yet. Damn her, using my order as a negotiator.

"Good to see you too." I mumble half-heartedly and she smiles, gesturing towards the bag in her hand.

"You on another snack run?" She asks, a little more curiously than usual and I nod slowly.

"So, Sam's with you?" She asks and I jab a thumb over my shoulder.

"He's still in bed."

"Oh, so he saw you last night?" She asks and I frown, wondering where this is going.

"Yeah, he was off his face drunk though." I mumble and Alice laughs bashfully.

"Yeah, a couple people from Spanish went out and Sam was there. He seemed quite upset." She says evasively and I shrug, staring only at the coffee in her hands as if I have momentary jedi powers. I will the food in her hands to come to me, but it stays firmly within her grasp.

"Did he say anything?" She asks quietly and I suddenly chuckle at the memory of last night.

"He said a lot of things." I respond and Alice looks momentarily thrilled. My smile quickly drops at the sight of hers, now feeling very wary of this conversation.

"Really?!" She asks, leaning over the counter now and I watch her with wide eyes, wondering if the £9.60 I paid is really worth this.

"Um, yes? I should really, uh, get this back though. You know?" I mutter, clearing my throat and indicating towards my totally-not-worth-this order.

Her face lights up in realisation and she blushes, pushing it towards me. I don't hesitate and grab my things before she has a chance to change her mind and keep me here longer.

"Of course, I understand! I'm so happy for you, and for Sam!" She says and I nod, my facial expression not concealing my mild horror at this disaster of a conversation.

"Uh, I'm happy for you too?" I say, sounding more like a question than a statement and she only responds with a wink. I turn, absolutely bewildered and make my way out hastily. I wonder idly if every Starbucks is like that, if every conversation with Alice will be like that?

Perhaps I should find a new coffee shop. I nod to myself vehemently and turn into our building, my mind still trying to comprehend what just happened. I let myself in and find, unsurprisingly, that Sam is still not awake. I put the sandwich in the oven and the coffee in the microwave, ready to heat them up again when he does wake. I leave the muffin on the side and write out a new note, with simple, easy for hungover-Sam to read instructions as to where his food is.

I would stay, but the essay I'm attempting to write on the published works of William Blake is in dire need of quotations, and for that I need some books to cite. I grab my keys and head to the on-site library, which is far closer and easier to get to than the enormous one on the other side of town.

I push open the doors and move quickly towards the section I need, my eyes scanning rows upon rows of books, all leaping out to my fertile mind. My gaze pauses on 'The collective works of William Blake' and I pull it out, my momentary victory dampened by how large the book is. I sigh and flick through it, satisfied with its contents and take it with me to the desk to check it out.

An ungratified looking lady, who scornfully looks me up and down, steals my book away and looks vaguely surprised when she reads the title. She continues slowly, stamps a return date and slides it back to me, a little more gently this time.

I glance at my watch and find that I've been gone only 20 minutes. Hopefully Sam will still be asleep, although the morning is quickly merging into afternoon. My feet carry me back to our building a little faster now and I jog upstairs eagerly, not wanting to leave Sam for too long. I find I'm excited to see him.

I open the door quietly and step in, vaguely surprised when I hear Sam's voice speak out. For a moment, I feel a surge of annoyance at Sam for letting someone in, but I soon relax, figuring he must be on the phone due to the lack of another voice. Either that or he's going crazy.

I move to make myself known but hesitate, his words catching my attention.

"Don't you think I know that, Alice? I know, he left a note and put my sandwich in the oven so it didn't get cold." He says, his voice softening rather a lot towards the end. I never hear him speak about me and I can't help but be intrigued by this new unknown.

He intakes a harsh breath and I freeze.

"I what?! Oh my god, what did I do last night? Oh god, I don't want to ask him, what if I said something ridiculous? What if I actually said something?" He asks, his words blending together as his anxiety at this unknown situation rises. There is a longer pause this time and I can only assume Alice is calming him down.

Sam sighs heavily and I hear what sounds like his palm hitting his face.

"You're right. I'll just have to ask and pray I didn't do something stupid. Can I move in with you if it all goes terribly wrong?"

I frown deeply at that and wonder just what is going through that boy's head. Why would he want to move in with Alice? Unless he's interested in her? I wouldn't be entirely surprised, she's a nice girl, if a little plain. Plain can be good, I suppose. The more I think about it the more I dislike it.

I figure now would be a good time to stop eavesdropping and I close the door with my foot quite forcefully.

Sam's voice is hushed now and I can't make out distinct words.

I take a moment before leaning round my bedroom door frame, surprised to see Sam showered and dressed in my comfiest clothes, his sandwich gone and muffin half devoured. He looks tired but far better than the state I found him in yesterday. I lean my weight against the frame, my arms crossed against my chest casually.

"How you feeling?" I ask, my voice more gentle than usual but I can't help it. Seeing Sam like that last night was awful and I never want to see him like that again. Sam appears a little taken aback by my sincerity and hesitates before shrugging.

"I don't remember a whole lot, I was really drunk." He responds and I raise my eyebrows.

"I know, I found you outside your dorm." I say, watching Sam nod cautiously. I debate whether to tell him just how emotionally fraught he was when I found him. I bite my lip, watching him as I mull it over and decide that ultimately, I want to help so I should probably try to find out what was wrong in the first place.

"You were crying." I state quietly, but Sam doesn't seem surprised, only slightly embarrassed. He nods and scratches the back of his head, leaning back into the pillows propped up behind him.

"Why?" I ask, even more tentatively this time and Sam avoids eye contact, as if he had been dreading this question.

"I don't really know, it's just a lot of stuff all at once." He says vaguely but honestly and I nod, although it's not really helpful in the slightest.

"You said you weren't angry at me anymore. Did I, uh..." I trail off, not knowing how to convey my uncertainty to someone who means so much to me. Sam's eyes are wide and concerned and he shakes his head as violently as someone with a hangover can.

"No, no way Elias, you haven't done anything wrong. It's just me being an idiot." He says with utmost certainty but I hesitate to believe him this time. Something is nagging me, something in his expression is telling me that I have yet to apologise for something I've done wrong. Though what it is, I know not, but the hurt is still there.

I nod but my frown is still set in my face.

"Did I uh, say anything embarrassing?" He asks quickly, clenching my covers in his fists and I watch the action closely, thinking back to last night.

I shrug and he looks very displeased with my response, so I decide to do us both a favour and just give him the quick once-over of what happened.

"I found you outside your dorm, you were in a right state and I..." I trail off, deciding to leave out just how distraught I felt seeing my best friend so upset.

"I tried to get you standing but you were a mess so I picked you up and carried you upstairs. You said you felt like a princess, said that you never eat lunch anymore and laughed at a joke about a foot-long. I put you in bed and you fell asleep." I finish, watching Sam's face blush more than once, but overall he looks satisfied, suggesting to me that he hadn't done anything he deemed 'stupid'.

"Thank you, for finding me and not leaving me there." He says plainly and I laugh.

"It was tempting." I reply, dropping my borrowed book onto my desk and slumping into the chair beside it.

"And thank you for breakfast." He adds, looking down now and I shrug.

"It really wasn't worth it, I had to have the weirdest conversation with Alice for that sandwich." I say, to which Sam snaps his head up, his attention now solely focused on me.

"About what?" He demands and I search his expression, wondering if it's one of panic or jealousy.

I shrug my shoulders again.

"I haven't got a clue." I mutter, my brows scrunched in confusion. Sam looks ready to have a fit so I elaborate.

"She asked if you had seen me last night, I explained in very little detail that I had and she looked so weird. She said she was happy for me and for you." I explain slowly and Sam laughs at my bewildered expression.

"What did you say?" He asks, his good humour returned and I shrug, heaving a sigh.

"I said I was happy for her too, grabbed our order and high-tailed it out of there. I'm going to find a new coffee shop if she keeps using my orders as incentive for me to talk to her." I mutter and Sam laughs again.

It's nice, to see the happy sparkle back in his eyes and a thought suddenly pops into my head.

"Want to go get lunch later?" I ask quickly and Sam tilts his head ever so slightly, a thrilled smile stretching his cheeks, which are glowing rosy pink.

"Subway?" He asks and I nod, a tiny smile quirking the side of my mouth. Sam wrestles the covers off him, not bothering to change from my clothes and pushes his feet into his shoes. I glance at my watch and surreptitiously grab both of our wallets, pushing both into my jeans pockets, smiling to myself all the while.

Sober Sam wouldn't admit that he thinks of these as lunch dates, but drunk Sam did and the thought makes me smile.