Four days.

Four days since she had last talked to Freddie.

He kept true to his word: it was her who had to decide. He hadn't so much as sent her a text since their last online chat. And he knew what he was doing.

He was forcing her to make the last move.

It was almost ironic, as she had been screaming at him just over a month ago across his school campus about how he never makes the first move. Now he finally did.

And she was kind of wishing he would leave the first move stuff to her, because she hated making the last.

With a deep sigh, she picked up her phone, getting ready to dial his number for the fifteenth time in the past five minutes. She had never had to deal with this before. The nervousness, the overthinking. Usually, her motto was don't think, just do. That has always given her the best results in the past. But she couldn't help it this time.

Shaking her head, she cleared the dial pad from her phone, clicking to create a new text.

From: The Demon

If I called you, what are the chances you would answer?

Just over a minute later, her phone rings.

Pleasantly surprised, and frankly, relieved, she presses the answer button and finally hears the voice she's been sortofnotreallyokayactuallya fuckinglot missing.

"Well, look who it is." He didn't sound angry, or harsh. But not amused either. He just sounded… tired. "You must think you're very clever. You didn't even have to call me yourself. But I guess my call is an answer in itself this time."

She couldn't even muster up the energy for her usual greeting. "Hi." Sam murmured, and Freddie let out a snort.

"No 'nub'? This must be really bad."

That's when it finally clicked – he thought she was calling to break up with him. When it hit her, she nearly shouted at him. How the fuck could he think that?

Thinking back on the past couple of weeks, she guessed it made sense. Her elusive responses, harsh words, delay in calling him.

But she can't break up with him. He had to know that.

"And now there's silence. If you could just get this over with, it would be really considerate. Not that you ever are."

Ouch, she thought. But she guessed she deserved it. She hasn't been all that considerate lately. Or… ever.

Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth, but what came out of it was really unexpected.

"Remember what I said that night? I said 'I'm here for you'. I meant it, okay? So even if I'm not able to say… other things, you just need to remember that. I am here for you. I obviously…" She drew in another breath, "care about you. I'm just not ready to…"

"I get it, Sam." He sounded so much happier, to her relief. "I just… I thought you were going to break up with me." Freddie finished in a whisper, and her heart nearly broke at the sadness in his voice.

"This is already going way over my boundaries, but I think you need to hear it. I could never break up with you, you nub. Got that?"

"That's a little presumptuous, don't you think? We've only been together for a little over a month-" He explained, but she cut him off.

"And we've known each other since we were twelve, Freddie. We know all of each other's quirks and shit. There won't be any surprises."

"You surprise me all the time." He stated, almost in awe, and she finally cracked a smile.

"Well, yes, but that's because you were in your mother's womb for the first 18 years of your life."

"Funny, Puckett." He deadpanned, but she could hear his chuckle through the phone. "But you're right. Those are good surprises."

There was a pause on her end of the phone, while she contemplated what she was going to say next. She had to finally get it all out there. Well, not all of it, but there was still a bit more.

"Listen, I'm never going to try to hurt you, okay Freddie?" He nodded, even though she couldn't see. "If I do, it's completely unintentional. Unless you're being a nub, then it might be a bit intentional."

"That's all I can ask for, I guess." He replied, amusingly. He knew he could say so much more, about how much he loved her, or how he vows to always protect her or be there for her, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. She knew it already, and it would only serve to remind her why they were having this conversation in the first place – his oversharing.

"Okay, you should go. Don't you have class in like an hour?"

Inwardly grinning that she knew his schedule, he nodded. "Yeah, I probably should."

There was another short silence, until he finally just thought screw it and threw caution to the wind.

"I love you, Sam."

He could almost hear her quiet groan through the phone.

"I'm not expecting anything back. You've more than made up for that chat in this phone call. I just want you to know, okay?"

"Okay." Sam conceded, with a sigh. "Have fun in-" snicker "Women's Studies."

"I needed the credits!" He insisted for the billionth time. "And that was the only class still open."

"I know, I know." She replied, trying to recover from her snickering. "Call me later, okay? Unless you're in the middle of a feminist protest or something."

Just to piss her off, he teased, "Bye, Samantha."

He hung up just as she let out a disgusted groan.