Pairing: Sam/Freddie.
Genre: Romance/Angst.
I sit on my front porch, shoulders-deep in thoughts of him. A glass bottle of root beer is resting on my lap, my finger circling the rim of its mouth. My mom's car isn't parked in the driveway and I'm the only one here other than my fading shadow; it's sunset and the sky is a mix of plums and cherries. It's silent except for the quiet wind rustling the leaves of the thorn bush that separate's different two-bedroom, one-bathroom town houses. I stare at the black cobble roads that line the outsides of the houses; Seattle never seemed so glum.
I rub the sleep out of my eyes with a closed fist and lean onto the palm of my hand, crossing my ankles on the grass in front of me. I lift the glass rim to my mouth and swallow, wondering what he's doing right now. It feels rotten to stare down at the spaces between my fingers, where his fit perfectly and not see them in there rightful place. I sit the glass bottle on the concrete beside me and stare as its shadow disappears. I sit there for hours it seems, watching the sky being enveloped by darkness and the stars appearing above my house.
I hear footsteps and suddenly my heart is racing but I don't move an inch, and I can see the crescent moon emerge from behind the tree across the street as a dark figure obscures the view of the neighborhood. I squint as it walks towards me and I gulp. I must have crossed his mind at some point over the last insomnia filled, lonesome week because he was here. I was sat freezing in a white t-shirt and pajama shorts and he was towering over me in dark jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with his brown coat and a warm winter scarf.
He bent down and picked up my root beer, sitting down in it's place and handing me the bottle. I took it and swigged the last inch of liquid and disposed of it on the grass. I turned to see him staring at me. "I'm sorry," he turned to face forward, pulling his knees into him and resting his chin atop of them. I sighed with relief and took his hand.