Somethings wrong, Stanford hasn't started a conversation with me for a week and 3 days now. Sometimes, I would say something to him to start a long conversation but he would either answer with one sentence and go on with his business or he wouldn't answer at all.

Today, I-I'm going to go up to him an-and ask him what's going on. Fiddleford stopped playing his banjo and walked up to Stanford without a word.

Ford swallowed when he heard the footsteps coming closer and closer.

"Stanford, what's wrong?"

Ford tried to keep his eyes on his book, he was afraid he would do something weird if he turned around. "Nothing." Ford replied.

"St-Stanford-!" Fiddleford said with a mix of frustration, sadness, and a pinch of laughter. "You've been avoiding me for ten days!" Fiddleford as he walked around Ford's chair so he could see his friend's face.

Ford immediately turned his face away from Fiddleford. He didn't reply to Fiddleford's comment.

"Please tell me what's wrong Stanford!" Fiddleford said with concern. "Is it me?! Di-Did I do something wrong?"

Ford quickly turned to see Fiddleford's face. "Of course not-!" Ford quickly answered, he turned back around. "I just...it's..it's me."

Fiddleford didn't see this coming, it took him a little bit to think of what to say. "I don't understand." To be honest, Fiddleford thought Ford was lying so that he wouldn't feel like it was his fault.

"I don't either!...But I do know it's not because of you...I just feel the need to avoid you because..." Ford turned his chair, he looked really disappointed, he had a big frown across his face.

"Because?" Fiddleford gave Ford a hand gesture that meant "Go on." Fiddleford's other hand was under the other's elbow.

Ford cringed at Fiddleford's gesture, not knowing what to say. "Because..well...I'm afraid I might..-" Ford opened his mouth a bit then he immediately closed it then he opened it again and mumbles something that Fiddleford couldn't pick up.

"Huh." Fiddleford moved a bit closer to Ford then placed his hands on his knees and crouched a bit so that their faces were close.

Ford's ears started heating up and he lowered his head a bit but still looked into Fiddleford's eyes. "I'm afraid I might-" Ford turned his head to clear his throat then he turned back to see Fiddleford's head tilted.

Fiddleford's face was a mix of innocence and a dash of concern. "You're afraid you might...?" Fiddleford asked sweetly.

Ford couldn't take that face. "He's gotta be doing this on purpose." Ford thought to himself. Ford backed up a bit as he talked. "We-Well, I'm afraid of a lot of things. For instance-"

Ford wasn't looking behind him and moved back so far to the point his arm slipped on the edge of the table. He fell back and landed on his butt, the table fell with him and all of his work was either on his head or on the ground.

"Oh goodness are you okay!?" Fiddleford quickly tried to help Ford up.

"No, no, I'm fine. I don't need help-" Ford dusted himself off while he was still on the floor. Fiddleford placed his hand on Ford's cheek. "Ehhhh." Ford said with a squeak.

"Oh no, now you got a big bruise on your cheek." Fiddleford said like a worried mother. "Oh! It's swelling. Hold up." Fiddleford got up and went to the bathroom to grab something.

Ford placed his hand on his cheek and hissed at the pain. He quickly removed his hand from his face. "How come it didn't hurt when Fiddleford-"

Fiddleford returned with a wet rag, he held the rag on Ford's cheek and sat on the floor. "There ya go."

Silenced filled the room for about six minutes then Fiddleford finally said something.

"...It's me, isn't it?" Fiddleford asked with a small frown and his head a bit low.

Ford quickly answered, grabbing Fiddleford's hands and holding them up to their chests. "No. I promise it's not you." Ford let go of Fiddleford's hands after he replied. "Now that I think about it...it might be...It's always been him." Ford thought to himself.

"...You know what-" Fiddleford stood up and began to walk away from Ford. "Nevermin-"

Ford grabbed Fiddleford's wrist and pulled him down. "Wait." Ford begged.

Fiddleford sat back down in front of Ford and slowly leaned in. "...Yes Stanford?"

Ford hesitated a few times before he answered. "I'm afraid I might...-"

"Oh come on Stanford! Spit it out!" Fiddleford said as he used his thumb and index finger to dig into Ford's cheeks.

Ford chuckled then he removed Fiddleford's fingers from his face and took a deep breathe. He turned his head, his chin almost touched his shoulder. "...I-" Ford stopped to look at Fiddleford who was waiting desperately for an answer. "Huuh! This is too hard." Ford thought to himself.

Ford grabbed Fiddleford's arm, and pulled him closer. He closed his eyes and-

KISSED THE CRAP OUTTA THAT BOY-

April. Get the hell outta my story.....Anyways, Ford and Fiddleford's lips collided. Fiddleford gasped but slowly closed his eyes and kissed back. They stopped to get some air then like...uhhh...uhh..High-Five...I don't know I'm not good at this...they kissed a second time, this time even deeper.

They stopped, their foreheads touched. "I-I'm in love with you." Ford said with a tiny mix of song, laughter, and defeat.

"That doesn't mean you don't talk to me for ten days you genius. Hehehe." Fiddleford chuckled.

"I was just afraid that I might do something stupid that'll ruin our friendship." Ford said with concern. "You make me so clumsy when I'm around you!" They both laughed.

Fiddleford got up and reached for Ford's hand to help him up. Ford grabbed Fiddleford's hand and got up. "Now first things first...We better clean this mess up!" Fiddleford exclaimed.