Four days after my appointment I get a call, the screen alerting me that it's the doctors clinic calling.

"Hello?" I answer hesitantly, greeted not with the voice of a receptionist but of my doctor himself.

"Hello Elias, we've gotten your blood work back." He tells me and I fidget with my shirt.

"Yes?" I ask, practically begging him to continue.

"Well, the results are a little surprising. I'd quite like you to come back in so we can run a few more tests. May I ask, is the pain you're feeling any worse?" He asks, his clinical tone worrying me further.

"It comes and goes, I can't really give you a definitive answer." I respond slowly as Sam quietly enters my room. He glances at my phone and raises an eyebrow but I shake my head.

"Alright, when can you come back into the clinic?" He asks and I hum.

"Friday evening?" I suggest and Dr Allan agrees.

"Just one more thing, is this something I should be concerned about?" I ask as quietly as possible, but my vain attempt to keep this to myself is ruined when Sam whips his head round to face me.

"No, no, just some minor peculiarities." Dr Allan assures, although I find myself not reassured in the slightest.

"Okay, thank you Dr Allan." I mumble, hanging up swiftly and attempting to escape my room. I ultimately fail. Miserably.

The back of my shirt is viciously tugged on, my voice squealing out like a dying pig as I effectively choke on the collar. I stumble back onto my bed, flopping down as I exhale in resignation. Sam stands over me with crossed arms, his face pinched in concern.

"Everything's fine!" I exclaim. Sam doesn't look convinced.

"Everything's not fine, Elias!" He argues, appearing almost fearful and I roll my eyes.

"You're overreacting." I mutter, crossing my arms whilst Sam shifts his hands to his hips.

"Am I?" He demands and I bite my lip to prevent myself from laughing.

"Yes, he just wants to run some more tests." I explain, although he doesn't look any more reassured.

"That means somethings wrong!" He protests. I take a deep breath, nudging myself up so that I can grip one of his hands, now hanging limply by his side.

"I'm fine, Sam. The doctor said it was nothing to worry about." I insist, giving his palm a quick squeeze. His grip tightens, clutching my hand as he exhales deeply.

"Everything better be fine. You better be fine." He mutters, his eyes cast downwards and not daring to meet mine.

I dip my head, forcing him to look at me.

"Don't worry your pretty little head. I'm not worth it." I mumble and Sam looks ready to argue but I don't let him.

"Come on, let's do something else. Play Mario kart with me?" I ask and I can tell that I've said the right thing. His concern is broken, his expression suddenly tempted by my offer.

"Alright, but we're playing all my favourite tracks." He demands adamantly and I scoff.

"I told you before, I don't cheat! I'm just good at the game!" I exclaim but Sam shakes his head, trailing to the living room whilst I'm forced to follow as my hand is still trapped within his grasp.

"I don't believe you for a second." He states.

"There's just no trust in this relationship." I grumble half-heartedly. Sam turns around and shoots me a cheeky wink, a sign that he knows I'm joking.

I collapse onto the sofa, watching Sam lean over and set up the discs. I keep my eyes firmly trained on the floor, the temptation to stare at other parts of his body overwhelming my sensibilities. Lord what is this boy doing to me.

A controller is thrown onto my lap and I pick it up, glad to have a distraction from my otherwise inappropriate thoughts. He falls into the place next to me and we quickly select our favourite characters and cars.

Sam selects all his favourite tracks, smiling smugly the entire time. It doesn't really matter. Little does he know, I play the tracks at random, meaning they're pretty much irrelevant. Perhaps I'll let Sam win one or two rounds.

"I'm going to absolutely destroy you." He mutters confidently.

Or perhaps I won't.

"Don't speak too soon." I mumble, pressing down on the accelerator just in time.

"I hate it when you do that!" Sam exclaims, desperately sitting up in an attempt to catch up.

I smile to myself, leaning back in my chair as I smoothly navigate the course.

Sam curses, screeches and makes noises that are almost completely unidentifiable as human. I cruise over the finish line and Sam drops the remote, his eyes full of raging disbelief.

"You've been playing without me." He hisses and I laugh at his expense.

"I'm just wondering, when is the 'destroying' going to begin?" I ask innocently, laughing even harder as Sam jumps at me.

His feeble little slaps with the pillow are nothing, but I still can't stop laughing.

"Shut up you little shit!" He yells, smacking me face first with the pillow and I feign falling backward, down onto the sofa cushions. Sam falls, pretty much collapsing on top of me.

"Oof you're heavy!" I wail, wiggling my free arm. Sam chuckles, peeking round the pillow which is partially blocking my view.

"Cant...breathe! Need...air!" I gasp dramatically, and Sam eventually relents, letting me sit up.

I throw the pillow at him half-heartedly and he catches it, smiling fondly at my no doubt haphazard appearance. Too bad for him, he looks just as rumpled.

We complete another two races in the same way before Sam eventually throws in the towel.

"I don't care, you're cheating. I don't know how, or why, but you are." He grumbles, crossing his arms and pouting.

I shake my head, rolling my eyes but before I can respond there's a knock at our front door. Sam is already racing towards the door and before I can stop him, to tell him about just how messy his hair looks, he's flung the door wide open. I smile to myself slyly, wondering if I can use this to my advantage.

"Alice, hey! What are you doing here?" He asks, his voice flustered from the run to the door.

"Oh, hi Sam. Did I interrupt...something?" She asks tentatively and I slap my hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing.

"What do you mean?" His voice pipes up and I giggle to myself. Without thinking I rip off my shirt and shuffle my jeans slightly lower on my hips. I straighten out my facial expression and waltz towards the corridor.

"Who was at the door, babe?" I ask softly, rounding through the door way before coming to a sudden stop. Alice's eyes widen considerably, raking over my body before glancing back to Sam.

"I'm sorry! I'll just, I'll go! Okay, ok, uh bye!" She squeaks, slamming the door behind her as Sam suddenly groans in realisation. His hands fist in his hair as he turns to look at me in utter incredulity.

"What the fuck happened to your shirt? Where did it go? Do you know what she just thought? You-you called me babe!" He stutters, his cheeks burning red as he says the pet name aloud. My giggles have evolved into a full-blown laugh and I clutch my stomach as I try to keep upright.

"I'm sorry, but it was too easy. Did you see her face?" I ask, dissolving into giggles again.

"She's going to talk Elias!" He hisses, play punching my arm as he attempts not to smile.

"Oh, who cares. They all thought we were together a month ago." I eventually say, sobering up from my hysteria. Sam rolls his eyes but can't seem to look me in the eye.

I wander back into the living room and shrug on my shirt, noting that Sam is still dithering in the corridor.

"I'm sorry if it bothered you, I'll be on my best behaviour next time." I swear, holding up three fingers in scout's honour. Sam glances up and smiles, shaking his head.

"You were never a scout, that means nothing." He claims and I hold my hands up in surrender.

"You got me, but I am sorry." I emphasise but Sam shrugs it off.

"It's fine, I'm being stupid." He says shaking his head, his cheeks still a vibrant pink.

I sigh, feeling very guilty about making Sam uncomfortable and internally kick myself for being so insensitive. A sudden giggle gains my attention and I glance up to see Sam trying to control himself.

"It was pretty funny." He admits, the mischievous twinkle back in his eye and this time I'm wary of it. He grins to himself and I can almost see the cogs winding in his mind, a plan formulating as he speaks.

"If you want to play that game, I'll play." He taunts and I grimace, wondering what sort of monster I've created. At least it promises to be humorous, and the more I think about it, the more intrigued I am to see what Sam has planned.

If it's anything like what just happened, I think I'll enjoy it.