Unsafely Close: ForTheWin04

A.N: Okay, I'm coming at you with a lengthy one-shot today! Woohoo!

Did you guys seen iLost My Mind? It was so good, right? I loved it so much. But in this story none of that has happened. It's like the world just before iOMG.

Inspired by the songs 'Forget About It' and 'Return The Favour' both by All Time Low. Please give them a listen to get a better feel of the story. All of the quotes before each section is from one of these two songs, but most are from Forget About It.

Before each section, it tells you the month it took place in. This is just to show you the different amounts of time between each section. These aren't like consecutive days...

This story is over the course of 1 year, and it shows how much change Sam and Freddie's relationship has gone through.

This is rated T for some language.

I hope you like it!

You know, there are some days when I really feel like this could work. Like you and I are finally gonna get it right. Then there are days like today, when you make me wanna tear my fucking hair out.

i. Talking in circles, and chasing the tale of a love drunk distant memory. Am I sure that she's the one?

March:

The light from the television brightened the darkly lit room, its sounds the only one hitting our ears.

My two best friends sit around me, observing the same scenery.

Carly is sitting with on the floor, legs crossed beneath her. Her back is resting on the couch, meanwhile Sam is sprawled across the whole thing, her feet in my lap. The bowl of popcorn is resting on her legs, and every once and a while Carly will reach up and grab a handful.

For the time being, all is content between the three of us.

I glance at the screen, and try to pay attention but the romantic comedy Carly had chosen for us to watch really wasn't sparking any interest. I turn my attention to be blond paying herattention not at the movie, but the ceiling. I smile, and shake my head. She turns to look at me so I look around, pretending like I wasn't staring at her. "Hey nerd face, pass the popcorn," she chimes.

"You could ask me like a normal person," I suggest with a smile.

"I could, if I respected you," she replies.

"You two, seriously shut-up," Carly says, seeing the fight arising already.

Sam turns her head and scoffs, "Well it's not my fault Freddie is being unreasonable!"

"I just asked you to treat me like a human being," I say, astonished. "And you think I am unreasonable?"

"You heard me."

"No, I heard more of your lies," I say, more to myself then to her.

"I'm not the one lying here Benson, you are," she smirks.

I shift on Carly's couch and lean closer. "Oh yeah, what exactly am I lying about?"

"The fact that you are secretly in love with me," she informs me, with a swift change in topic.

I roll my eyes. "You must be insane if that's what you think! Like I'd ever be in love with you!" I say, disgust ringing in my voice.

I hear Carly sigh from her spot on the ground.

"It's for the better, anyways," Sam begins, thinking things over. "You loving me would bad for my image!"

"Please, it would make it look like you actually have some intelligence!" I tell her matter-of-factly.

"I think everyone knows I'm smarter then you, Benson!"

"Oh really, and which one of us is failing three classes?" I say with a grin.

"ENOUGH!" Carly's voice rises once more. "You two need to stop arguing with each other or I am going to explode!"

Sam smirks at me from her spot on the couch, and we both know to give Carly a break.

I glance down at her feet, still in my lap, and twist the one of her shoelaces between my fingers. Tying and untying absentmindedly. Who can say how long this goes on for? Suddenly Carly rises and I turn my attention from Sam's shoe to the brunette.

Her phone is now glued to her ear, and she is laughing into it. Come to think of it, I didn't even hear it ring. I must've been too caught up with Sam...

Carly turns her direction to the couch, a guilty smile playing on her features. "Its Cory isn't it?" Sam half whispers to Carly.

She nods slowly, and points towards the stairs. "I'll be right back, sorry," she mouths to us before making her way up to the studio, resuming her phone conversation.

I turn back to look at Sam again. "Who is Cory?" I ask.

"Some football player Carly is crushing on," she tells me. "You jealous?"

"How old am I, thirteen?" I ask. "You know I'm over all that."

"Sure you are," she teases and swings her feet off of me. Slightly standing up, she moves over and sits directly beside me.

"Shut-up," I mumble.

"Good come back!" she says with sarcasm in her voice. "Maybe you are thirteen."

I roll my eyes at her and stand up. "I should probably go," I inform her.

"Mommy needs you to help her knit?" she teases.

I scoff playfully and open the door. "Well it beats hanging out with you."

She smiles widely at me. "Touché."

ii. You are a handful of roses, thorns in a cheap bouquet. True, I'm a walking disaster, they told you to stay away.

April:

I can feel her presence over me, but I dont want to look over at her, so I keep my eyes locked to my computer screen – knowing fully well it will make her mad.

She clears her throat, and I can hear (what I think is) her foot tapping in random rhythms on my carpeted floor.

"How was your date?" she finally asks, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"It was, fine, I guess," I mutter out, knowing she's impatient with me.

"Kay, get off your computer for like a millisecond and talk to me!" she snaps. I take my eyes off of the screen and turn my attention to Sam standing boldly over me. "So the date... that bad, huh?"

I shake my head, not breaking eye contact. "It wasn't bad, it just...wasn't great. Angela is cool, but we just aren't made for each other."

"Bullcrap," she says, standing up straight. "You believe that shit? Like fate, soul mates, the one?"

"Yeah," I say with a small nod. "I guess so."

"Ughhhh!" she groans. "You are such a woman, Benson! You actually believe that there is one specific person on this Earth that is meant just for you?"

"Well, maybe not, like, one person made for me and me alone. But there's got to be people more right for me then others. Y'know, someone who gets me, makes me happy and stuff."

"Ahh," she says, sounding like she just figured something out. "So your date didn't make you happy!"

"That's not what I meant Sam!" I say with a long sigh.

She smirks and walks over to collapses on my bed. "Fine, so if these
people that are meant for you really exist have you met one of them yet?"

"Hmm..." I begin as I walk over and lay down on my bed next to her. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Exactly!" she pronounces as she rolls over onto her stomach. "It's hard to tell if you've meet someone like that because they might not be what you're expecting, y'know."

"Yeah I guess so," I say thoughtfully.

"I win," she tells me, with a wide smile.

I can't help myself but smile back at her. She looks away from me, suddenly more interested in my comforter. I use this moment take her in. Although she is the most aggressive girl I've ever met, she really is pretty. She is her most beautiful, I've noticed, when she's caught up in her own mind — not paying any attention to anything around her.

Simply oblivious.

"Freddie," she says, breaking a long silence. "Do you believe that opposites attract?"

"Sure," I tell her. "Sometimes yeah, I guess they do."

She breathes out. "Good," she mutters quietly, and I'm almost positive I wasn't supposed to hear her.

iii. Did you forget what I said? Train wreck. Here we, here we go again. Derailed and I failed to mention, I put it on the line.

June:

My apartment is abandoned – deserted.

The only sounds I can hear are that of my heaving breathing, and thoughts of the warmth and comfort of my room filling my head. Just as sleep is about it wash over me – and I find myself in one of those semi-conscious states where you don't even know if you're awake or not – my silence is interrupted. At first it's a small knock, then turns into a full on bang. I move from my spot on my bed and make my way towards the apartment door.

The second I open it, she's in my arms – pulling me close and wrapping her arms fully around me. At first, I think she's trying to attack me. But then, I heard the faint sounds of sniffling. Sam's...crying?

I begin to rub her back with my hand, not yet asking what's wrong. I figure she'll let me in soon enough, when she's ready. But for now, I feel like she just needs me to be a shoulder to cry on – so that's what I intend to be. We stand there for what seems like an eternity – her grabbing me close, and me listening to the sounds of her crying – until her voice finally cuts through. "Why are boys –" Hiccup. "– such assholes?"

"Why?" I ask her, my voice low and steady. "What happened?"

She finally de-tangles herself from me and takes a step past me into my apartment. "Ryan cheated on me," she whispers, as if she's convincing herself that if she doesn't say it out loud it isn't true. "I know we only dated for like, a month! But I still–" she cuts herself off with small sobs.

I've never seen her act like this before in the four years I've known her. "H-How did you find out he was cheating?" I ask quietly.

"We had a fight early this morning. B-But we fight a lot so I didn't think too much of it. But then, I went to his house about an hour ago and he had another girl there!" Her voice traveled from sadness to anger, and suddenly I felt more threatened.

I find myself – purely in a sense to calm her down, I'm sure – placing my arms around her waist and looking deep into her eyes. "I'm sorry he was a jerk, Sam."

"I just," she begins, working herself up all over again. "I can't believe her would do that to me! What an asshole!"

I nod, and then shrug. "You don't need a guy like that. He doesn't deserve you anyways."

She nods in agreement, and then hugs me all over again. "It still makes me feel like complete crap though." I look at her, and see all the hurt inside of her. "It's like I wasn't good enough so he needed someone else, too. Y'know?"

I ignore her question, and pose my own. "How can a guy do that?" I begin. "I can't believe some guys are like that. I'm not like that at all."

She moves her head from my chest and looks straight into me. "No, no your not," she says, sounding like she's convincing herself more than she's agreeing with me. "You're sweet."

Her face softens and she leans in closer towards me. Her lips come unsafely closer to mine, and just when I think she's about to close the gap between us, she changes her course and kisses my cheek lightly. I feel my face get red, but I ignore the feeling and focus only on her.

She retreats and begins to make her way towards my door. "Thanks, Fred. I think I feel better now."

I nod, slightly lost for words. Slowly, then come back to me. "Y-You're welcome Sam. You know I'm always here for you."

For the first time that night a small smile makes its way to her face. "Yeah, I do."

And on that note, she slips out of my apartment, leaving me more confused then you could ever imagine.

iv. Because I feel like a bad joke, walk the tight rope to hold onto you.

July:

I think she decides to sit dangerously close to me as some kind of cruel joke.

But let's face it, I already know this conversation is going to be different then the usual banter. She turns her head, and looks right through me, like I'm not even there, and begins clicking her tongue to fill the empty silence. I can feel the awkwardness growing. "So," she finally begins. "Are we ever, y'know, going to talk about it?"

"T-Talk about what?" I ask, playing dumb.

Her arms cross, and her eyes narrow. "Kay Freddork, don't even pretend that you don't know what I'm talking about."

I shrug. "What do you want me to do? Apologize?"

Her hand finds it way to my arm, and awkwardly sits there. "No. Just explain, or something."

"I dunno," I say. "I guess I like you."

Her eyes widen then fall, but she has no response.

"And I just, I don't know, wanted to know how you felt," I begin. "But I guess I already knew. You've been hinting at it for a while anyways."

"What are you talking about?" she says, and moves her hand away. "I haven't been hinting at anything!"

I slightly scoot away from her. "God, Sam. Just admit it! I know you like me, too."

She tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear and breaks all eye contact. "Kay, so maybe I do, a little," she mumbles. "Why do you care, anyways?"

I shrug. "Just do."

"So that's your explanation for ambushing me with your lips this morning?" she asks.

"Yeah, I suppose," I nod.

"That's retarded," she states as she stands back up.

"Thanks, Sam."

"Well I would've preferred like talking or something," she tells me.

"Yeah, like you would've talk about this otherwise."

"So," she says quietly, ignoring my comment. "What do you expect to happen now?"

I don't answer, because she already knows it.

Lost in feelings she looks straight at me. "Maybe we should just, y'know, forget about all this. Just for now, until I can straighten my thoughts out."

"Sure, yeah," I relentlessly agree.

"So friends?" she classifies.

"Yeah," I agree with a small crack in my voice.

She shoots me and small nod, makes her way to the door.

I don't think I can forget about it.

v. You said just friends, and no strings, but that leaves loose ends for all flings. Get back to old days and old flames, you never let burn out.

September:

Just friends my ass.

I'm not sure how Sam normally treats her friends, but if she thinks that the actions she pulls are purely platonic, then there are problems in her brain! She is driving me insane, slowly but surely. I don't know how I can even continue living like this without exploding, because she is killing me.

It goes like this:

She holds my hand while we walk from class to class in the hallways at school, gaining sideways glances from all of our friends/classmates who know we aren't together. I don't think anyone can understand how hard it is to find yourself in love with a girl, and having to say no, we're just friends on a regular basis when a populated crowd asks if we are dating.

It's the worst feeling in the world, I've decided.

She hugs me, a lot. At random times of the day, when I'm least expecting it (even though I'm always anticipating it) she will wrap her arms around my torso, burying her head in the crook of my neck. I find my arms making their way to her back, despite myself, holding her close. Then as quickly as she came, she will retreat and move back into real life, almost as if nothing ever happened. I think she is just testing the waters, or something. Just some kind of odd reassurance that I still feel the way I do about her. If he doesn't hug back, his feelings are gone. I've come to the conclusion that this must be her thought process, unless she's just trying torture me further (which also is a prime candidate.)

But the worst offender is when she flirts with disaster and kisses me when no one else is looking.

We sit on Carly's couch: me on the left, Sam on the right, and Carly in the middle, not knowing any better. Suddenly a call comes from upstairs, slightly making me jump. "Ahh! Carly!"

She jumps to her feet and heads for the stairs. "Spencer?" she calls. "What's wrong?"

"I- ahh!" he screams once more. "I got my arm caught in the toilet, and it's trying to flush!"

Carly shakes her head before quickly making her way up the stairs. "Oh my god, Spencer, how did you–"

"HURRY! I think something's on fire!" his calls interrupt.

After Carly disappears behind the corner, I turn to Sam. "What is with Spencer and catching things on fi–"

It's my turn to be cut off.

Sam jumps at me from her end of the couch, her lips collapsing onto mine. I quickly catch on to the change of mood in the room and wrap my arms firmly around her and pull her closer. She smiles into the kiss and her hands make their way up to my head – one plants itself on my cheek and the other tangles into my hair. She continues to kiss me, her lips hot and sweet against mine, and my hands move from her back to rest on her hips. Just as she's about to deepen the kiss, we can hear Carly's footsteps coming back down the stairs.

Sam puts her hands between us, sets the difference, and is soon back in her respective seat starring at the TV screen. As if nothing ever happened.

"Sorry about that," Carly says as she makes her way into the room.

I nod. "It's fine."

Suddenly Sam stands, and I shoot her a weird look as she does so. "Well, I'm gonna get going."

"Why?" Carly asks, retaking her middle seat. "The movie just started."

"I gotta feed my cat," she states simply with a shrug.

Carly nods.

"Bye Carls, later nerd," she says. Before leaving, she takes a quick glance at Carly, whose attention is paid to the screen. When she knows it's safe, she winks at me, smirk apparent on her face, before slipping out of the apartment.

This girl is going to be the death of me.

vi. You are a shinning example of why I don't sleep at all. Too many sheep on the brain to make sense of a late night call.

December:

The window is still cracked slightly, making my room at least a few degrees colder then I can ever remember it being. I can feel the breeze on the back of my neck, making the hair there stand up.

She sits on the edge of my bed, her ice cold blue eyes staring right into me. I break eye contact, and check the bedside clock.

Two in the fucking morning.

She clears her throat and I take a sideways glance back towards her.
She slightly shifts in positioning, putting her feet under her, keeping her eyes on me the whole time. Neither of us has said anything.

Neither of us haveanything to say.

The silence grows louder, and the uncomfortableness of this entire situation sets in. She lowers her gaze, now looking through me, not at me. "Benson," she whispers. "Why are you mad at me?"

The pain in her voice kills me.

"I saw you," I begin, trying not to sound hurt. Even though I am. "Kissing Anthony Hawthorn." She bites he lip and nods for me to continue. "I thought I meant something to you," I explain with a shrug. "Apparently I had the wrong impression."

She moves from the spot on the foot of my bad and comes to lay next to me. "Sure, I care about you," she explains. "But we are not dating, Fred."

"Then how come you act like it all the time?" I ask, while sliding away from her.

"We're not dating," she repeats, ignoring my question all together. "But why did I feel like I was cheating on you?"

I let her question sink in.

"Because you and I both know, we can't fight these feelings we have for one another." I turn to look at her and she scoots closer to me. Her face is inches from mine, and I can feel her hot breath on my lips. "They are too strong to fight..."

"What do you think we should do?" she asks quietly.

"I want this, me and you," I tell her, as I place my hands firmly on her hips and lift her up so she is laying on top of me, and she straddles my hips. I look straight into her eyes, and she places a hand on my chest and smiles down at me.

"Me too."

vii. Gotta know was it real? Or a love scene, from a bad dream? I don't think I can forget about it.

January:

Her lips are on mine, no room for breathing.

She kisses with such passion sometimes I don't even know if it is real or not, like I am making the whole thing up in my head or something. Her whole body is flush against mine, one hand on my shoulder, the other tangling itself in my hair. Mine are spread across her back, holding her close.

The whole room is dark, we both can tell even with our eyes shut so tightly.

I feel her pull her lips away from mine suddenly, and I can't find them again in the dark. "Hey," she whispers.

I laugh. "Hi there."

She hugs me tightly against her, and buries her head into my neck. "I like you, Benson," she tells me. "A lot."

I rub my hand along her spine and feel her shiver against my touch. "I like you, too."

"Good," she laughs, and leans back up to reconnect us at the lips. My hand slides up the back of her shirt, and she smiles into the kiss.

The room brightens, and we quickly move apart when we realize the door to our hide-out has been opened. I blink; adjusting my eyes to the light coming in from the hall opposed to the pitch black of the room, and I turn my attention the girl beside me. Sam nods at the man in the door. "Sup, Bill," she greets.

I lightly smack her arm, signaling for her to shut-up. She turns and gives me a look before turning her attention back towards our janitor. "Rotten kids, get out of my office!" the man howls.

"Office? This dump is your—"

"Okay! We will be leaving now!" I interrupt, grabbing her hand and
marching out of the janitor's closet.

"You are nofun," she informs me after we get back to her locker. "Bill knows me anyways."

"Really?" I ask slowly, feeling awkward. "D-Do you bring guys in there often?"

"Relax your lady balls, Benson. I don't go around hooking up with every guy in the school," she says with a laugh.

"But you have had other guys in there, right? The janitor's closet I mean."

"Yeah, one or two," she tells me. "...or maybe three, but who cares? I'm with you now! That's what matters."

"Yeah, I guess..."

She sighs and puts her hand on my arm. "Look, if it makes you feel better, I'll tell you a secret." She leans in closer, and lowers her voice. "I didn't like those guys nearly as much as I like you," I smile. "I barely even liked them at all."

She leans in the rest of the way and presses her lips to my cheek, and slips her hand into mine. "C'mon," she tells me after a few seconds. "Let's go find somewhere else to make out before lunch starts."

viii. Seems like I'm making a deal with the devil who is whispering softly to me, "Are you sure that she's the one?"

February:

"I don't think we should see each other anymore."

Her eyes widen, and she stares straight into mine with a confused look on her face. No, no way. "What?" she asks.

I bite my tongue, not sure how to continue. No words come to mind, so I just take a step back, out of her grasp.

"A-Are you breaking up with me?" she voices, hurt and pain in her tone.

I look down towards the floor, and slowly nod. "Y-Yeah, I am."

She moves the distance between us and puts her hand on my forearm. "Freddie?" she whispers. "Please. I-I love you."

This whole thing is so backwards and out of character that I don't want to be here any more. The words leaving my mouth are making me sick to my stomach. I can't deal with making her feel like this. "I'm sorry," I tell her. "But this needs to happen."

I can see the tears forming in her eyes, knowing fully well that she is using everything in her not to cry right now. She's so strong.

"Why are you doing this?" she asks, raising her voice a bit.

"I care about you so much. I can't stand to hurt you, but I-I can't do this anymore."

"Do what? Love me?"

To this I have no answer and I can't handle looking at her anymore because it simply makes me want to die right there on the spot. But breaking up with her is the only way to stop the constant pain I feel. That pain that tells me I need to rid myself from her. That I've become too attached — too obsessed. I have no idea why this pain comes, but it's there, deep inside. Breaking up with her now is the only way to stop me from hurting her even worse later. I turn on my heels and begin to walk away, and I don't turn around when I hear her calling my name.

I push past her front door and make my way back home, cliché rain falling down onto me, but I welcome it like an old friend and hope it will wash away my guilt. I become lost in thoughts of want, and hurt. All at once.

There it was again, the feeling of sinking. That feeling of drowning. I thought breaking up with her would get rid of these feelings, but I think it multiplied them by a million.

What the hell did I just do?

ix. Are you gonna throw it all way? Do me a favour. Are we gonna do this all again? Maybe it's all pretend, and the game should end. I guess nobody wins.

March:

The knock on my door late that night wakes me from where I had finally fallen asleep on my couch. I rub my eyes and walk across the stretch of carpet between the loveseat and the apartment door. She stands on the other side, tear stained eyes.

"Sam?" I ask, trying to sound casual but clearly failing.

"Uh, hi," she begins, looking straight through me.

"What's wrong?" I ask, my voice low. "Are you okay?"

"Like you care," she mumbles, the closes her eyes almost as if she wishes she hadn't said it. "Uh, my mom kicked me out."

I take a step closer to her, and she continues to explain. "She has a stupid guy over and didn't want me around. C-Carly is at her granddads, and I didn't really have anywhere else to go."

"C'mon in," I say after a long pause as I move aside. She slightly brushes past me and it leaves awkwardness between us.

"You can, uh, take my room," I tell her and look back down at couch only a few feet away.

She nods. "Kay thanks."

She doesn't mean it, I've decided. She only said it because it was what was expected of her.

She begins to walk towards my room, the awkwardness of her presence still hanging over me. "Sam, wait," I call out, regretting the words as soon as they left my mouth. She turns around slowly and gives me a weird look. "Can we talk?"

She takes a few steps back towards me, and shrugs. "What could have possibly have to say to me?"

My feet suddenly became more interesting than her face. "The last time we talked it was on a bad note and–"

"Bad note?" she interrupts. "You dumped me last time we talked, if I can rememeber correctly."

"Yeah, yeah I did," I remind myself.

She turns to leave again, clearly being done with this conversation. But I wasn't going to let her slip away again, not this time. "And it was the stupidest decision I've ever made," I finish.

She stops dead in her tracks, yet still faced away from me. "Pardon?"

"Puckett, you heard me. I shouldn't have dumped you, it was stupid."

She quickly turns of her heals and storms straight up to me. I see anger growing in her eyes, in fact they almost look black. Before I know what's happening, she slaps me right across the face. Pain spreads across the skin where her hand had connected, and I look down at her with hurt in my eyes. I say, out loud, "Oh, my God." I have my hand on my cheek, holding it there. My face feels strange and tight, and my vision is blurry.

"Fuck you," she says in a low voice. I expected her to walk away, but I could still see her standing there, narrow eyes, red face.

"Sam," I begin, my face stinging as I did so. "Sam."

"Repeating my name isn't going to change the fact that you broke me, Benson," she tells me. "And now you're trying to apologize for that?"

"Weren't you afraid?" I question, ignoring her completely while finally taking my hand away from my face. "We were going way too fast, and I didn't want to get stuck feeling like I was forced to stay with you because we had gone too far! I needed out before it went too far!"

"What are you talking about?" she asks sharply.

I shake my head, yet again ignoring her. "I still love you. I should've talked to you, and instead I ran away. Like a complete idiot."

Her hand shakily makes its way to my cheek and her thumb rubs over the hurt skin there. "I shouldn't have slapped you..." her voice trails off.

"I still love you," I repeat.

Her hand moves away, and I hate the loss of contact. "You still really hurt me. I was so messed up over you."

"I know," I whisper. "I know. And it kills me that I ever made you feel that way."

"Then why the hell did you?"

"It was too fast," I tell her slowly, quietly. "I felt like I was drowning."

She breathes out slowly, and then looks up into me. "Then next time tell me to slow down."

Cue the marker for the violent kiss.

Her lips connect with mine in a moment of longing, a moment of passion. I missed the way she feels against me. I missed the way she tastes, the way she smells, and the way she gets lost in a kiss...

When breathing becomes a problem we both pull back.

I think she missed me, too.

"I–" swallow. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I broke up with you, I'm sorry I hurt you, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I repeat it over and over again until I was out of breath once more.

"Promise me something," she whispers to me.

I nod. "Anything."

"Don't you dare hurt me, ever again."

I nod, and choke out, "I promise."

She nods as well, feeling satisfied with my answer. "Well I'm going to bed," she tells me and turns to walk towards my room.

I watch her as she retreats, feeling slightly confused as to what just happened. But what she says next clears up everything: "Are you coming?"

end.

Writing a 19 page one-shot with 23,458 characters for the win (oh four)... that was a lame joke, wasn't it? Yeah, I thought so too.

I hope you liked this. I worked so hard on it to try to make it sound natural and not rushed at all. I'm fairly happy with it, overall.

Please review and tell me what you thought!

- ForTheWin04 :)