Classes start up again far too soon for anyone's liking, although I find myself in a comfy position seeing as I had completed all of my holiday assignments early. Sam doesn't share my work ethic and, of course, has left his work to the last minute.

I tap my pen against the desk, my attention only half focused on what my lecturer is saying. My thoughts keep wondering to Sam, who is no doubt sat at home attempting to complete an essay for this afternoon. I yawn surreptitiously and jot down the names on the board, deciding I'll research their significance later.

He finishes his little speech with a flourish and an awful pun, which only few appreciate. People all around me gather their papers and close their laptops, eager to reclaim the rest of their day. I take my time, tucking my notebook into my bag and shrugging it onto one shoulder.

"Eli?" A small voice murmurs and I turn to look upon perhaps the tiniest girl I've ever seen. She has purple hair and an outfit so colourful that she looks as though she's come straight from a colour run.

"Yeah?" I ask, not recognising her in the slightest. I feel as though I would definitely remember someone so insistent on wearing every colour on the spectrum, but then again, she is small. The small ones often escape my notice.

"Um, I know we've never spoken but do you know where Sam is? It's just you're always together and I can't find him." She says, her voice very gentle and tentative. She sounds afraid, as though I might take offence and I could, if I were that petty, but it's a well-established fact that we're usually together, or at least knows where the other is.

"He's actually at home right now, trying to finish an essay he left till the last minute. Do you need me to pass on a message or something?" I ask, smiling and attempting to sound more approachable. It seems my effort pays off, as she beams at me in response.

"Actually, I'd quite like to give this to him personally? It's a copy of one of my assignments and I..." She trails off nervously and I give a short laugh.

"It's fine, I understand. You want to see it in safe hands, although I'm concerned that you think Sam is considered safe." I admit and she giggles.

"He swore he'd be careful and he knows I'll decapitate him if he isn't." She reassures and I nod.

"Good to know, I'm heading home now so I can take you, if you want?" I offer and she nods, glancing behind her and waving at her lingering friend.

"Did she want to come too or...?" I leave the question open, my gaze flickering back to her friend and the girl in front of me laughs.

"No, no, my girlfriend just worries is all. No one really knows you and well, I'm very small." She admits with a blush and I shrug.

"I've noticed. Alright then, let's go." I murmur, opening the door for her as she watches me wide eyed. She shakes it off and walks past me and into the open air.

"My name's Alana, by the way." She chirps, holding onto her bag as she walks by my side. I make a conscious effort to slow my pace when I notice her skipping to keep up.

"Pleasure to meet you, how do you know Sam?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

"I used to take Spanish but I hated it so I switched to English language." She explains and I nod.

"Last I heard he lived in the old block by the lake? Did he move?" She inquires.

"Yeah, we moved out over Christmas, the dorms weren't great and he's basically incapable of fending for himself." I explain and she grins.

"So, you moved in together." She states and I nod, smiling slyly.

"I'm the only one who can put up with him for any length of time." I state and she laughs.

"He's definitely a character." She chips in and I laugh under my breath.

"That's one way of putting it." I respond, getting my keys and opening the door. I hesitate for a moment, catching the wary look on her face at the thought of entering a stranger's house. She's a sensible one, that's for sure.

"You can stay here, I'll go grab him and then you can come in, if you'd like?" I offer and she nods, glancing at me in pure relief.

"Not a problem, I'll be right back." I insist, dropping my bag by the stairs and jogging up to Sam's room.

I knock on his door gently and his reply is instantaneous.

I open the door and lean against the frame, watching him swivel in his chair to face me.

"What's up?" He asks and I jerk my head towards the front door.

"Alana is here to see you." I say and he frowns, perplexed.

"How does she know where we live?" He asks and I laugh.

"She cornered me in English and I walked her over." I state and Sam looks bemused at the whole idea.

"You interacted with another human being?" He asks, getting up and following me into the hall.

"It has been known to happen." I comment dryly and Sam laughs.

"Always the gent." He says, patting me on the shoulder as he descends the stairs and invites the girl in.

"Hey Alana! Thanks so much for doing this, sorry I wasn't there. I'm assuming Eli was the perfect gentleman, he always is." Sam says, falling into his charismatic, energetic and conversational self.

I don't bother to listen to her response, wandering back into my room and getting on with my own research.

Sam's voice breaks my concentration, only 15 minutes later.

"Elias! Can you come here for a minute?" He calls and I sigh, pushing my papers away as I traipse downstairs.

"What can I do for you?" I ask, swinging round into the living room. Sam grins and gestures to the piano.

"She doesn't believe you play." He states and Alana looks vaguely mortified.

"Well you sure as hell don't." I retort and he rolls his eyes.

"Just play something would you? It's been gathering dust lately." He taunts and I glare at him, but eventually relent. I sit down and open a piece of sheet music but Sam gets up, protesting.

"Can you play something of yours?" He asks, his eyes glinting and I know exactly what he wants to hear, but I won't.

I know it'll disappoint him, but I launch into something else anyway. Still something of my own composition, but not what he wanted.

This tune is more upbeat and harmonious, and it flows easily and naturally through my mind and translates itself across the keys. The tune comes to an eventual end and thankfully, Sam doesn't look as disappointed as I thought.

"That's amazing, Eli!" Alana blurts and I smile faintly.

"Thanks." I mutter and Sam bursts into an unnecessary round of applause.

"So talented, my little boy, all grown up and making art." He says, wiping away imaginary tears and I smile properly then.

"You're an idiot." I grumble, reprimanding his idiocy with a shake of my head, although my smile doesn't fade. I get up and walk into our kitchen, my mind focused on food.

I decide on pasta and work on making the sauce, finely chopping an onion and I tune out of Sam and Alana's muffled conversation. I hear the front door close and assume she must have left, a sigh of relief leaving my chest.

An arm suddenly wraps around my shoulder and the knife in my grasp slips from my focus, slicing into my finger. I flinch and pull the knife away quickly.

"Ah shit." I mumble, directing my finger beneath the tap.

"Oh my God, Eli, I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have done that, oh god, are you okay?" Sam asks, his voice panicked and increasing in volume by the second as he dithers uselessly by my side.

"I'm fine. Honest." I say, laughing at his state and he shakes his head.

"How're you so calm?" He asks incredulously and I shrug.

"It's really not that bad, it just bleeds a lot when you get it wet." I explain and he nods guiltily.

"Does it hurt?" He asks and I ponder his question for a moment, thinking of all the times I've asked him the exact same question, already knowing his response. In comparison to the pain I feel from Sam, my own pain is nothing. I can hardly feel it at all, but I'm relieved that I can, because it means Sam can't. I decide to be truthful with him, because in truth, it doesn't hurt. Not really.

"Not at all." I state, a smile on my face.

_

After a particularly rough session of ice hockey, I find collapsing on the sofa to be the only solution for my aching limbs.

Jake hadn't caused us any grief, thank goodness, but I had received the brunt of more impacts than usual today and even then, I couldn't completely protect Sam from it either. He had hit the ice but he was fine, except for some nasty bruises on his side which will paint his skin in a few hours' time.

I flop my head back against the back of the sofa, my eyes closing as I feel Sam slump down beside me.

He groans and I open an eye to peer at him.

"Ice hockey. What was I thinking?" He moans, his hand gently clutching his side and I snort.

"You weren't, apparently." I mumble.

"It's weird you know," He says, shuffling around and I open both my eyes to see him sitting up, precariously balanced on the edge of the sofa.

"I can feel how tired my body is, but my side doesn't really hurt at all." He continues and I see now that he's actually pressing against his bruises. My own side flares up after a particularly brutal poke and I grab his arm quickly.

"Don't poke, you'll make them worse." I say through clenched teeth and Sam shrugs.

"I don't even think I'm bruised, Eli." He insists and I laugh humourlessly.

"Trust me, you are." I mumble as he sighs.

"Don't you think it's weird though? Come to think of it, I don't ever really feel pain when I get tackled or fall over or shit." He goes on, talking more to himself than to me and I wince at the topic of conversation. He may not feel it, but his pain has never resonated in me quite so sharply than in this moment.

"Hm, weird. Maybe you've got a higher pain tolerance now?" I suggest, trying to avoid this topic at all costs and he shrugs.

"Maybe." He admits, although his expression is dubious at best.

I sigh, wiping a hand down my face. I'm in dire need of a shower so I haul myself up and head to the bathroom. My mind is rebelling against the idea of having to tell Sam why he doesn't feel pain and I thank my lucky star that he hadn't asked. I hurry through my shower, not wanting to leave Sam alone with his thoughts for any length of time.

I wrap a towel around myself and escape to my room, dressing quickly in some joggers and an old shirt before trailing back downstairs. Sam has preoccupied himself with a program on TV and I exhale deeply in relief.

I flop down next to him and allow my mind to wander aimlessly as I watch a duo of two, hairy fat men cook various British dishes.

Sam leans his head on my shoulder for a moment before deciding that his position is entirely too uncomfortable; opting to lie across me instead. His legs are strewn carelessly but his torso looks cosily placed so I decide to leave his gangly limbs alone.

"It's your birthday soon." He says, all of a sudden and I turn my head to look at him in mild surprise. I nod, not really sure how to respond to his statement.

"What do you want to do?" He asks and I roll my eyes. Sam thinks birthdays are the best thing in the world, a whole day where everyone fawns over you, lavishes you in gifts and gives you attention. Also, a very good excuse to eat cake. I on the other hand, cannot think of anything worse than a birthday.

"I don't want to do anything, Sam." I state, turning my attention back to the TV.

"We have to do something! It's your birthday!" He exclaims, as if his argument is a new, original concept that I have never considered before.

"We go over this every year. I don't want to do anything, I don't want a party, or gifts or cake. I don't even want anyone to know it's my birthday." I say firmly and Sam shakes his head.

"How about you have my birthday, that way you can have two." I suggest and Sam groans, playfully kicking at my leg.

"Come on, Elias. We can do something just us, how about that? No fuss, no extra attention, just go and do something nice." He offers and I raise my eyebrow minutely. This offer has attained my attention and he knows it.

I exhale heavily, the first sign of defeat and Sam grins.

"Alright, but I get to pick what we do." I mutter and Sam nods, leaning back with a satisfied smile.

"It's two weeks away so you better decide soon." He adds and I nod, contemplating what I'd like to do. It's odd, thinking so selfishly but I know that I won't decide on anything that Sam won't like which makes me feel a little better about the situation.

Sam turns his attention back to the TV and I sit quietly, pondering what I'd actually like to do. Other than stay inside and avoid people all day because I'm pretty sure Sam won't allow that. I briefly consider seeing a film, going to a restaurant or even going skating again but everything seems dull.

All I really want to do is spend time with Sam as he's the only human being I find tolerable. That's it.

My attention is diverted when Sam moves, getting up to put a DVD on and I realise I must have missed the hairy fat man show. What a shame.

Sam glances at me and smiles.

"You decided what you want to do yet?" He asks, his eyes flicking down to the DVD case in his hands as he slots the disc into the player.

"I just want to spend time with you." I reply honestly and he rolls his eyes but doesn't bother to hide his shy smile.

"I suppose I can manage that." He breathes and I laugh.

"Thanks for squeezing me into your busy schedule." I retort and he waves off my sarcastic comment good naturedly.

He presses play and glances over at me again as he gets comfy. I stop biting my lip but I know he's seen it.

"Don't worry so much, it'll be fun. I promise." He says, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. He sounds very sure of himself and I sigh, nodding as I try to forget my upcoming date of birth and concentrate on the film instead.

Unfortunately, it's easier said than done.