"Forty-three! Forty-four! Forty-five! Forty-six! Forty-seven! Forty-eight! Forty-nine! Fifty!" Matt's voice echoed through out the house. He was leaning against the door frame of the living room. I watched from the kitchen counter as he stood back and glanced up the stairs. Peeking over his shoulder, he spotted me. He sauntered into the kitchen, "Aren't you suppose to be hiding so I can seek you? Standing there kind of defeats the purpose of hide-and-seek, don't you think?"

"I am so not playing," I laughed. He scrunched up his face, "Where's the fun in that?"

I walked over to him and shrugged, "The fun is watching you run around the house like a chicken with its head cut off trying to find those midgets."

"Midgets?" he laughed stepping closer to me. I nodded, "Cute, but midgets none-the-less."

Matt kept enclosing the space between us. Knowing that we were out in open and that any one in his family was likely to walk by at any second, I backed away from him. Until I hit the counter that is. Matt cupped my cheek, stroking my skin softly with his thumb. I sighed contently but protested, "Matt…"

"Hmm…?" he murmured, peering into my eyes. I bit my lip softly, "Mat-"

But I was abruptly cut off by his lips. Matt's hands found my waist, hugging my hips to his. I nearly moaned but held it in. I slowly responded. His lips parted slightly. I bit down and felt him smile into the kiss. I lifted my fingers, entangling them in his hair. Matt broke away from my lips, but not me. He trailed kissed down my jaw line and onto my neck. I bit my lip, gripping his back. Matt nipped softly at my skin. I felt his tongue flick over my neck. I gasped slightly.

"Where did you learn to do that?" I breathed. I felt laughter rumble through his chest, he pulled back, pecking my lips. He shrugged, "I don't know, it just felt right."

I nodded, "I know the feeling." I kissed him again, and again, and again, but ultimately pulled away, "Hide-and-seek?"

"Oh, right," he muttered. Matt kissed my lips once more, giving my hip a tight squeeze before stepping away. He face the interior of the house and shouted, "Ready or not here I come!"

I heard him walking around for a bit before his steps faded out. I plopped down on the kitchen table dropping my head into my hands, and groaned. Matt and I have always been close but never as close as we are now. Which completely sucks because he's sicker now than he's been the past two years, even with the treatment. At this thought, my eyes tear up. It hurts to even begin to think about losing him, to even begin to admit to myself that he might not make it another year. I know that if I lose him, I won't be able to take it; me or Sara. Neither of us are prepared to lose him. Though, you're never really ready to lose someone, losing Matt would kill us both.

I straighten up, my eyes leaking a few tears. I hastily wipe them away. Suddenly, I hear Matt shout my name from the basement. He calls my name again. Then, loud, reoccurring banging. Wendy comes running into the house as I fly down the stairs. We walk down in the basement, Billy and Mary on our heels; apparently they heard Matt's pleas as well.

Upon entering the basement we see him standing in the spare room, his eyes darting around, a panicked expression on his features. "Matt?" I hesitantly ask him. I motion for Wendy to keep the kids back as I step forward, "Mattie, what's wrong?"

He ignores me and continues to twitch and shake, glaring around the room. Billy pushes past Wendy and over to his brother. "Matt, dude, come on!" Billy yanks his brothers arm.

"Leave me alone!" Matt violently shoves him. Instantly, we all freeze. Suddenly, Matt's facial expression turns gruesome as he realizes what he just did. He moves to apologies but Wendy took Billy's arm, "Come on, guys, let's go upstairs." She shoots Matt a nasty glare leading her sister and cousin up the steps and away from us. When Matt finally raises his gaze to look at me, he looks ashamed. I shake my head, scoffing slightly.

"I have no idea what has gotten into you, but you need to calm down or talk to your doctor. Hell, I don't care what you do but when you start assaulting Billy you need to get some help, Matt," I spoke, my voice calm and low though on the inside I was shaking. I knew that this wasn't Matt; I know Matt would never hurt his brother, or anyone for that matter. But still, something with Matt was off and it has been ever since we moved here. Maybe the move was getting to him.

"I didn't mean to," his voice was feeble. "I thought…"

"You thought what?" I almost snapped. Almost, I don't think I quit have the nerve to be mean to Matt.

"I thought he was someone else."

"Who? Me? Wendy? Who?"

"No one," he sighed. "I just didn't realize it was him, okay?" Matt moved to walk around me and out of the spare room. I was going to stop him but decided not to-I needed to get out of this room, it creeps me out. I followed him back up stairs and out the back door. He plopped down on the porch and dropped his head into his hands. I heard him sigh as he ran a unsteady hand through his thick blonde locks. I bit my lip. Matt was sick and I knew better than to upset him. I mentally kicked myself and slid onto the seat next to him. I took my arm and wrapped it around his, leaning my head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Mattie," I whispered. Matt pulled back and looked at me, "Sorry for what? You didn't do anything. You're only trying to help."

"It doesn't matter, I upset you and I didn't mean to-"

"Ems, I know I'm sick but you don't have to cater to my feelings twenty-four/seven. I'm a big boy, I think I can handle you getting made a me," he spoke softly so I knew he wasn't trying to be mean. I shrugged, "Yeah, but I don't think I can."

"How so?" I sighed, "Matt I don't…"

How could I say this and get it right?

"Matt I don't know how much longer I have…with you. I don't want to spend what could be our last few months together fighting, or being upset. I love you and I want to have fun and just relax but things around here are so crazy it's just been difficult," when I looked up, Matt was looking away from me, down the driveway. I bit my lip. Great, now he's really hurt. I entwined our fingers, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "I know you'll make it through. I really feel you will but I still don't want to take a chance on ruining the last days I have with you."

"No, I know," he cleared his throat and smiled down at me. He kissed my temple, leaning into me. I clung to him, like he was oxygen and I was out of breath. I peered down at our clutching hands. I always use to think it was corny when authors made people's bodies mold into one another's in books or movies but studying our hands, I realized that ours really were. They way our palms sort of fit together like two pieces of a puzzle The way our fingers enter-locking perfectly. The contrast of my lightly tanned skin against his ghostly paleness. It made me smile at the sight. I began to fiddle with his fingers, lightly tapping at the tips with my own. I felt his chuckle and he asked, "What are you doing?"

I simply shrugged, "I have no idea."

"Alright then," Matt replied. He too began to play with my fingers and soon we were engaged in a very competitive game of thumb war. Laughing hysterically, I forced a frown, pouting my lips slightly, "I cannot believe I lost."

"Face it, I am the master of thumb-war," Matt grinned cheekily at me. I deepened my pout, a small glare forming on my face. "Aw, don't pout."

I wanted to smile but forced the pout. Matt shook his head, "No seriously, don't pout-it makes you look retarded."

"Ah!" I gasped. I reached out and smacked his arm. Though I hit him harder than I probably should, I felt no guilt. I glared at him and stood up. I wasn't really that mad, in fact I wasn't mad at all but it was fun watching him squirm, thinking he'd really hurt me. I pretended to storm into the house, Matt following closely behind. I didn't walk to fast, knowing he couldn't run and soon, I felt his hand slip around my waist.

"What? Having too much fun insulting me? Can't move on to a new victim?" I joked. He shook his head, "No. I'm very picky."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"It means your perfect," he stated softly. He grazed my lips lovingly and I felt myself melt. Then, he beamed, "Perfect to pick on cause you don't put up a fight."

"Matt!"