"location rarely triggers memories for me. it's other things. sounds, feelings, atmospheres."

sam sat up with knox, watched him move around. without realizing it, he was cleaning what bits of his their mess he could find on the blanket and then tucking the sullied napkins away to toss when he took it all back to the house. for now, he was just enjoying the way knox ate.

he leaned back on his hands, legs crossed at the ankles, eyes on the sky.

"i like it better here because i met you, and you make all the terrors i've faced bearable. i feel like, i can deal with the panic attacks better with you... like the steam in the bathroom," he pointed out and sighed. "unless you were there to pull me back and anchor me into reality, i would have stayed panicked and paranoid for hours."

and then he'd left and gone to see summer, and for days he'd been panicked and paranoid... but he didn't bring that up.

he was over it, pointedly so, and refused to make knox feel the guilt of it any longer. knox might not have asked for sam's forgiveness on it, but sam had given it anyway.

knox prescott

he has some of the soup to himself and it spreads a warmth through him he hadn't thought possible. he licks his lips, the salt and heat an addiction all their own, and takes a couple more greedy spoonfuls before offering another bite to sam. it's not quite hot enough anymore to burn his throat, but the flavor really is amazing. 

he listens and he thinks but what if i'm not there when you panic? and the walls threaten to close in, leash pulled taut. he hasn't had anywhere to run this past week, and his own fear of what he'll do when truly left to his own devices has kept him stagnant and on sam's bed, but what happens in another week? a month? a year? 

will he feel the same way then?

he waits for the voice and all its negativity, but he's exhausted and the soup is warm and sam is kind, and still glowing beside him. so he just contents himself with looking at him, making sam his sun. 

"and like with the texting," he says. as good as the soup is, it still doesn't take much to fill his belly, and so he offers the rest to sam and lays down, head propped on sam's thighs. 

"thank you for doing this for me. for us. i know i don't say thank you enough."

samuel carter

☉

sam takes bites when offered, watches knox happily, smiles and takes the bowl before letting knox lay on him. he finishes off what's there in a few moments, thinking on knox's words for a moment. then he takes a deep breath through his nose and looks to knox. his fingers caress his hair, moving through the strands, but not disrupting the general shape knox has it in.

"you don't have to thank me. i know this is difficult to understand, or grasp, but i genuinely enjoy taking care of you. spending time with you... it's my favorite thing to do."

he's not sure how knox feels about people touching his hair. sam? he doesn't care if people touch his hair. but with how knox has so many different colors in it all the time, he just assumes that knox would not be happy if it was in the wrong shape.

"the texting... did help, i suppose. i knew you weren't dead, at least." he furrows his brows. "i'll have to time-- uh... i'll have to facetime, if you go off again and i'm worried."

then his brows knit further together.

"... is that too far? am i, am i too... uh, how'd that article word it." he thinks back, and it hits him, he snaps his fingers and looks down at knox with a smile. "am i too clingy?"

knox prescott

yes, it is rather hard for him to grasp. because if sam is sick, yes he'll take care of him, but he won't like it. he won't claim it's his favorite thing to do. knox can barely stand himself right now. the idea that sam enjoys it is wild. no, he's definitely not selfless enough to stick around if their roles were reversed; at least, not without a lot of complaining involved.

"what?" his brows furrow and then he realizes how sam misunderstood him. "i meant the texting while you were burned to a crisp. gods, i know my texting while i was gone for a couple of days was awful." 

he thinks about it for a second and his first instinct is yes, of course that's clingy, but he puts it all together and knows sam's anxieties stem from his own actions. that he's dug himself into this hold and until he can get sam's trust back, he can't be upset about it. 

still, it makes him nervous. 

"you won't have to worry about it again," he says as solace instead. he half-closes his eyes and turns his head into sam's fingers, sighing contentedly. 

it's hard when you're not around. and i can't tell you this, because i can't have you worrying about me anymore than you do, but if you leave, really leave, and i'm somewhere else, back in the real world, i don't know what will happen. 

samuel carter

☉

"oh."

then sam laughed, because that was quite the misunderstanding on his part. knox doesn't dwell on it, so neither does he. instead, he just listens to knox admit that his texting was awful. it feels nice to have knox realize he's a dumbass, but at the same time, sam had already forgiven him.

so when knox turns into his hand, sam smiles and leans down to kiss knox's forehead, his temple.

"i'll take you at your word, then."

because it's all he has to go off of. because mending what's been broken will take trust on his part and work on knox's part. that much he can deal with, that much he's fine with. moving together to make them work...

"if you'd like, we can sleep out here. but if you want, we can get back and sleep in our bed."

our bed. he doesn't even realize he's said it.

knox prescott

our bed our bed our bed our bed. oh, the implications. that would be the easy way out, wouldn't it? he'd never have to face the real world again. not really. he could stay up here on the mountain, in this fantasy, and be sam's little housewife. look after the ghosts and the ghouls and the water-type oasis in their backyard. 

and he'd end up doing nothing else in his life and instead of growing complacent, grow frustrated, and take it out on sam, and everything would be over before it could really begin. 

"let's stay out here. under the stars," he says. he ignores the comment, ignores its implications, because those should be the things that happen next. those are the things that happen after 'i love you' and 'i see you' and 'i'm all yours.'

now that sam's finished eating as well, he readjusts. he slides back under the covers, flush with sam, and curls up to his chest, arm draped over him.

"i'm glad you forgave me," he says sleepily. "'cause you're all i have left."

samuel carter

☉

"happily."

in all regards, he would happily oblige. to stay beneath the stars with him, curled around him and brushing his arms. to forgive him over and over. to be all knox had left.

his eyes are only half open as he grows sleepy. there were plenty of sam's own ghouls and canines there to protect them while they dreamt. so he allows himself this night. he slips his eyes closed and holds knox while drifting away.

"i love you." he mumbles the words into the. moonlight, knowing the boy in his arms to whom he means them is sleeping soundly. but perhaps those words will give him sweeter dreams.

knox prescott