Sam sprayed some cheese in her mouth as she sat on the edge of Freddie's bed. He was out cold, snoring and sometimes even mumbling as he had done every night for the past week. The room was dark and cold, but she had gotten so used to the darkness that she was finally able to watch Freddie sleep—a creepy pastime—but a loving one nonetheless.
Just six more months and he might be gone. Sam sprayed some more cheese into her mouth. She couldn't face that concept. Sam coughed slightly and cussed under her breath. Even the faintest of her motions could wake Freddie up.
"Sam, are you okay?" Freddie sat up on his hind elbows abruptly, slightly raising his eyebrows at her. She shrugged.
"Do you know you talk in your sleep?" Freddie sighed and turned on his Galaxy Wars nightlight. He squinted up at her.
"Why aren't you sleeping yourself?"
"Because me likes to hear all the interesting stuff you say. Oh, and me was in the mood for some cheese." Sam was just about to spray the remainder of cheese in her mouth before Freddie took it from her.
"God, Sam! Are you crazy? What if my mom found you?"
"Ah, no big deal. I'd just tell her that I like to sleep in your big geeky room… and I'd tell her how nice and cozy we get…" Freddie's face reddened, much to Sam's satisfaction. She loved embarrassing Freddie almost as much as she loved him.
"Dude, relax. I'm only kidding!"
"Yeah, you better be." Freddie was quiet for a bit, staring straight ahead. He shuddered, seeming uncomfortable with breaking the silence.
"You haven't told anybody about you spending the nights here, have you?"
Sam remained silent. This question in particular really ticked her off. Freddie turned to her, giving her a disappointed look.
"Ah, Sam…"
"No, I haven't told anybody you dope. And if I did, there'd be nothing to tell. We don't even do anything."
"Yeah, we do. We… we sleep…"
"Oh, yeah and that's a whole lot."
"Yeah, well it's a whole lot more than Gibby and Tasha do, I'll tell you that."
"Doubt it."
Freddie simply stared at her. Lately, he couldn't figure Sam out. She wasn't sleeping, her diet mainly consisted of cheese, and she had been constantly upset with Freddie for simple things. Something just wasn't right.
"Sam, what's wrong?"
"Nothing. I'm just stating things how they are." Freddie raised his eyebrows at her.
"And how do you think things are?" Sam laughed.
"It'd just be good to get a little more action and a lot less whining." Freddie smirked and rolled his eyes.
"I don't whine."
"Yeah, you should hear yourself talk in your sleep, bub."
"And what exactly do I say?" Sam smirked in a triumphant kind of way and poked Freddie's nose.
"That's for me to know and for you to never figure out." Freddie pulled his lips into a fine line, deciding that she won this round.
"Get under the covers. You've got to be cold and tired." Sam huffed, but seemed to agree and dug into Freddie's sheets. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled a few strands of hair out of her face.
"Goodnight, Sam." Sam yawned slightly.
" 'Night, Freddo."
Minutes passed, and Freddie soon became the one who couldn't sleep. He felt Sam shake violently under his weight. Too paralyzed to wake her, he held her tighter—still feeling extremely helpless. His arms were apparently no match for her tears.
