The next few days pass surprisingly smoothly and, despite my sudden, life changing realisation, life continues normally. We attend lectures, eat lunch together, go to hockey practise, watch films; everything continues and I'm glad. The more I think, or overthink, the more illogically terrified I become at the prospect of losing Sam.

A tidal wave of 'what ifs' cloud my judgement. What if Sam doesn't feel the same way? It's all well and good taking someone else's word for it, but I'd never assume something so important based on someone else's opinion. What if we did get together and things ended badly? I couldn't handle the guilt, knowing that I was the one who tore us apart and ruined something so perfect.

What if I make a terrible boyfriend? I've never had that kind of experience with someone, in reality I don't know the first thing about relationships.

I try and console myself as best I can, using reason and logic but for some reason my mind rebels.

It's very disconcerting.

"Hey, Elias? Are you ok?" Sam asks, breaking me from my abstraction and I blink twice, hesitating before nodding. Sam narrows his eyes, plonking himself down on the bench opposite me and resting his hands on the table, only millimetres from mine.

"No, you're not. What's up with you lately?" He asks and I sigh, shrugging my shoulders.

"It's nothing." I insist. He frowns but lets it go for now, but I know that later I won't be so lucky.

"How's the guy search going?" I ask painfully, but my morbid curiosity demands to know.

Sam heaves a sigh, shaking his head playfully.

"Terribly. Honestly, if I could just date you, I would. It would make everything so much easier." He says as I choke on a bite of my sandwich. Sam watches, an amused expression lighting up his face as I glug some water in an attempt to clear my airway.

"What?" I ask, completely side-tracked from the lunch in front of us.

"What?" He asks back and I roll my eyes.

"Why would you want to date someone like me?" I say offhandedly, taking a smaller, warier bite of my sandwich.

Sam scoffs, stealing my grapes as per usual and pinching the chocolate biscuits for himself.

"Why wouldn't I? You make me laugh, you're kind, talented, smart, a perfect gentleman and hot as hell. I wish there were more people like you." He says wistfully, a teasing glint in his eyes and I mull his words over in my head for a moment.

"You're overlooking my flaws." I point out and he rolls his eyes.

"Your flaws are minor inconveniences at best." He mutters and I frown, fiddling with my glasses.

"We're best friends, you have to say that." I state, internally kicking myself at the idiocy of pointing out something so obvious.

"The best relationships stem from friendships. I want my future husband to be my best friend, my partner in crime and my fuck buddy all at the same time." He states confidently and I burst into laughter.

"Please don't tell me that this is advice from your mum." I utter and he looks suddenly bashful.

"Maybe, but that doesn't make it any less relevant." He mumbles and I nod.

"Your mum knows her stuff." I assure and he grins, nodding in agreement.

"So, you agree?" He asks and I tilt my head slightly.

"Yeah, but I wouldn't have phrased it like that." I admit and Sam scoffs.

"Yeah, well that's a given. You would have turned it into a poem or something." He chortles. I'm unamused and snatch the biscuits back, stuffing one in my mouth.

"You're just jealous, you can't write poetry to save your life." I mumble and Sam holds his hands up in surrender.

"Why don't you ever write me poetry, Elias?" He demands suddenly, slamming his hands back down on the table and I laugh again, returning to easy conversation.

"Because there's nothing vaguely poetic about you." I quip back and he recoils in mock offence.

"I expect some, at some point." He states and I shake my head, smiling to myself.

"I've already composed songs for you, what more do you want?" I ask and he huffs.

"Poetry. I thought that was obvious."

I roll my eyes, chuckling to myself.

"I feel sorry for your future husband, putting up with your demanding arse." I say chuckling and Sam raises an eyebrow.

"You have no idea how demanding my arse can be." He says, winking at me. I erupt into peals of laughter, unable to take his vulgar euphemism seriously.

"Your future husband is a lucky guy." I utter, removing my glasses and running a hand over my face.

"I think I'll be the lucky one." He responds, smiling to himself.

_

I watch Sam fall from a particularly nasty tackle, impacting the ice sharply and I wince visibly at the pain erupting through my side. I skate over, holding my hand out. My face is purely apologetic, irritated that I hadn't been able to stop it. Sam grabs my hand and I tug him up, steadying him as I clench my teeth.

Recently the pain that I feel from Sam has been unbearable and I'm starting to wonder if there's something wrong with me. The injuries that he's subjected to shouldn't cause this amount of pain and with ice hockey practises being more frequent, I'm in pain more often than not.

Bruises, whether mine or Sam's are keeping me from sleeping soundly and my entire body feels cloaked in exhaustion.

"You look like shit, mate." Tristan comments as I come to a halt beside him and I sigh.

"I know, not sleeping too well." I admit, my eyes struggling to remain open.

"Practice is basically over, go home and take a break." He insists and I almost collapse in relief.

I skate towards the lockers, waving at Tristan who looks overly concerned. I'm fine really, I just need a good night's sleep is all.

I walk over to Sam, shrugging my bag over my shoulder and leaning against the lockers.

"You look awful." He comments, glancing at me and I groan.

"Thanks." I mutter, dragging a hand through my hair restlessly.

"Seriously, are you alright?" He asks, his voice hushed and I nod.

"Just need a nap." I murmur, following him sluggishly out of the door.

During the walk home I find my lids closing easily, dragging them open requiring more energy every time. It's a battle royal but I find myself the champion, stumbling through the door and up the stairs before passing out face down on my bed in less than ten seconds.

When I feel myself drifting back to reality, I find that I am still in the same position that I had fallen in, except a blanket is now encasing me and my feet are void of my shoes. I turn my head to face my room, my eyes widening when I find the space next to me occupied by Sam.

He's on his side, facing me but staring at the wall behind me. It takes him a minute to realise I'm awake but when he does, he smiles. His face is startlingly close to mine and a brand new impulse leaps to the forefront of my mind.

I keep my eyes on his, knowing that if I dare glance downwards, the urge to kiss my best friend will be all the more prevalent. To be perfectly honest, I'm still trying to process the fact that I want to kiss someone, let alone that person being my best friend.

"Hey." He whispers, smiling at me as his eyes wander over my face.

"Hey." I whisper back, wondering why he's whispering in the first place.

"How're you feeling?" He asks, his voice still hushed and I shrug in response.

"Better, I was just tired." I reply normally. He brings his finger to his lips, hushing me and I roll my eyes.

"This is a whisper zone." He murmurs. I smile at his antics and decide to humour him.

"How's your back?" I ask quietly, watching him grin as I play along.

"Good, but kind of purple." He responds and I huff grumpily, my fingers twitching his shirt up slightly so I can see. He doesn't protest, although his cheeks flush as he fiddles with the blanket. He's right, his back is bruised but no worse than usual. I frown deeply, wondering why it had hurt so much at the time. Maybe I had imagined it.

"It's fine." Sam says, his voice louder now and this time I shush him, holding my finger against his lips. He looks at me and rolls his eyes, nudging me gently.

"You're an idiot." He mumbles against my finger and I laugh, drawing my hand back and sitting up. I stretch my arms back, groaning at how stiff I feel.

"How long was I asleep?" I ask, glancing down at Sam.

"Three hours, I thought you'd sleep for longer." He admits and I wonder what he had been doing lying next to me in the first place. His phone buzzes and he fishes it out, smiling briefly before his fingers are flying across the screen; typing out his response.

"Who's'at?" I ask sleepily, falling into a yawn as I watch him.

"Oh, just this guy that Alice introduced me to. I wasn't sure about him at first but we've been talking for a week and he's really nice, we're meeting up tomorrow." He mutters and I frown unhappily.

"But I thought that we were going to..." I trail off, Sam's eyes widening in recollection and he stares back at me guiltily.

"I'm so sorry, Eli, I forgot. You don't mind if I cancel do you? I mean, we hang out all the time and we can reschedule." He insists and I nod, looking down quickly.

Sam's memory isn't great, he's forgotten our plans many times but it's never hurt this much. I rub my chest absently, wondering if that was yet another side effect of my newly discovered feelings towards the boy. I'm going soft.

I get up and pull off my shirt, replacing it with a clean, soft black one and shrug on a black hoody too. I grab my keys and my headphones, determined to get some space from my thoughts, or at least some space from the boy occupying all my thoughts.

"Where are you going?" Sam asks, looking up from his phone, puzzled.

"Just going to take a walk, get some air." I murmur, internally groaning as I hear his footsteps following me.

"You want some company?" He asks and normally I would say yes, but right now I can't bring myself to look him in the eye.

"I actually, do you mind if I go alone? You know me..." I murmur and he nods in understanding, smiling happily and wandering into the living room. I sigh quietly, dragging the door open and walking out into the open. The sky is dark and a light rain is already falling.

I tug my hood over my head, the rain not bothering me in the slightest and I select a song on my phone, pushing my headphones in.

I'm not really thinking as I stroll around town and I decide that, after a while, I hadn't really left the conversation with Sam on a pleasant note. I duck into Starbucks, hoping that a coffee and a muffin might do the trick and get him smiling. I feel a physical weight lift off my shoulders as I realise that Alice is nowhere to be seen and I order quickly, deciding on a classic chocolate muffin for Sam.

The barista I recognise as Alex winks at me again but I ignore it, unsure how to reject his advances kindly. I pay quickly and make my way back to the flat, eager to see Sam again now that my mood has lightened.

I jiggle the keys in the lock and enter quickly, my actions halting when I hear an unfamiliar voice float out into the hallway. The unfamiliar voice is causing Sam to laugh excessively and I frown unhappily, my mood plummeting once again.

I shuffle in the hallway, trying to gauge whether I'm welcome downstairs or not. Sam voice chirps out, effectively answering my question for me.

"Elias! Come in!" He calls and I sigh, dropping my head against the wall for a moment. I brace myself and enter the living room cautiously. Sitting beside Sam, far too closely for my liking, is a perfectly nice, good looking guy. And I hate him.

"I, uh, picked you up something." I murmur but Sam smiles sadly, glancing at the identical looking coffee on the table in front of him. I blink and hold out the bag suddenly, forcing myself to sip the disgusting caffeinated drink in my hand. Damn my pride.

Sam stares at me, taken aback for a moment before grasping the bag with a frown. I keep my face as straight as possible, swallowing the liquid in my mouth. I'll never know what Sam sees in coffee.

"Oh, thanks." He says, smiling somewhat unsurely.

"This is Elliot, by the way, the guy I was telling you about earlier." He continues and I move to shake his outstretched hand.

"Just call me Eli." He says happily and I frown, glancing at Sam who seems to find it amusing.

"Uh, okay. Nice to meet you." I mumble, retracting my hand immediately.

"Nice to meet you too, Elias." He chirps and I cringe.

"Actually, it's..." My voice is cut off by Sam kicking my shin and I glance down, finding Sam's irritated expression.

"Right. I'll leave you guys alone." I grumble, feeling my own irritation flare at Sam's behaviour.

I trudge towards my room, disposing of the coffee on the way and groan as I shut the door, flinging myself down on my bed for the second time today. I am completely done.

I try listening to music, I try reading, I try browsing tumblr but nothing can seem to settle me down. In reality, I know what will calm me down. My piano, which is sitting, waiting to be played in the same room as my best friend and his new love interest.

When I hear their footsteps come up the stairs I freeze, only relaxing when I hear Sam's door close. I exhale deeply and nearly fall over myself as I make my way to my door, opening it and flying downstairs.

I've been craving to sit at the piano for nearly an hour and as I run my hands along the keys, the first genuine smile in hours graces my face. I launch into one of my new pieces, calming down nearly instantly as I let myself drift through the music.

I move into another one of my pieces, smoothly transitioning and smiling to myself all the while. I could get over myself, it might take a while and it might be the hardest thing I'll ever have to do, but I can get over my feelings. All I want is for Sam to be happy in this aspect of his life, and if Elliot can bring him that then who am I to question him.

Doesn't mean that I like him though. Because I most definitely don't, but maybe in time I could.

I finally move into Sam's piece, my melancholy growing as I work through the song. This song is supposed to be easy and light, just like our friendship, but now it's a tangle of emotions that I'm not accustom to.

It finishes sharply and I curse under my breath. I close my eyes, leaning my forehead against the keys for a moment before exhaling and righting my position. I rest my hands on the keys and start again, playing it that way it should be played and doing it justice.

I finish it perfectly, satisfied with my job.

"That sounded better." Sam's voice states, startling me from my reverie. I nod to myself, not forcing myself to turn around just yet.

"So, what did you think of Elliot?" He asks. I turn around then, assuming that Elliot was still here but apparently being mistaken. I assess Sam's facial expression then, noting that his brows are puckered in suspense, his fingers fiddling with his shirt in agitation and I know that I'm going to have to lie. I hate doing it, but I can't say what he's looking to hear in honesty.

I rake a hand through my hair, settling my expression before mustering up my most encouraging smile.

"He looked nice." I say simply and Sam looks less than pleased with my response.

"Is that it?" He asks, narrowing his eyes and I panic.

"Well, I don't really know him. I only met him for a minute." I admit, leaning my elbows on my knees. Sam rolls his eyes, leaning back against the door frame and crossing his arms.

"Yeah, and in that minute, you made a terrible impression." He mutters. I frown, my chest tightening at his comment.

"I tried..." I begin but Sam cuts me off.

"No, you didn't Elias! You didn't try, you never try." He says, his voice rising a decibel and my prior irritation flares again.

"I was going to, until you kicked me in the shin." I argue and Sam scoffs.

"You were going to correct him, you can't both be Eli, just let it go for once." He says rolling his eyes, exasperated.

"It's a name, Sam! Two people are allowed to have the same name! Where is all of this coming from?" I ask, trying to keep my head. Sam doesn't seem to have the same concern.

"Oh, grow up Elias. It's your name, it's not a big deal." He mutters and I stare at him in complete disbelief. If it wasn't a big deal, why was he making it a big deal in the first place? I shake my head, getting up to leave before I lose my temper but Sam blocks the way.

"Sam just move, I don't feel like talking about this anymore." I murmur, trying to dodge him.

"No, I want to know what you thought." He says adamantly and for a second I want to snap, I want to tell him my honest opinion, but it isn't an informed one and it would be cruel. I take a deep breath and stand straight, taking the high road once again.

"I think he's lovely. Everything you're looking for, he's cute and makes you laugh and he's just your type. What else do you want me to say?" I state tiredly, watching his face fall slightly. His arms fall from their stiff position, hanging limply beside him as I bypass him.

I pause and rest my palm on his shoulder for a moment before retracting my hand again.

"I'm happy for you." I mumble, taking myself back to my room. My head hurts and my chest feels hollow.

I've never felt this way before and I decide that this must be the feeling that you so often read about in books.

It's ironic really, Sam wanted me to write poetry about him, although I don't think this is the kind he had in mind. You don't ask for inspiration, it comes to you, sometimes finding you in the worst time or place or in this situation, finding me in the worst feeling in the world.

So I pick up my pen and write.