I did what I always did when Sammy left.

I went after him.

And yes, he did jinx himself. It had started raining as soon as I realized that it was a bad idea to let him go alone to the garden. Summers here weren’t especially sunny most of the time. Occasionally it rained, considering the usual weather in the area.

But what really concerned me the most was the fact that he was acting weird. Sammy usually held his composure like a champ, though lately I noticed he’d been too keen in watching me, to make sure that I wasn’t going to blow up like I did at the party.

Dammit, that was the last thing I wanted him to do. Had he caught onto my mix of feelings? Was that why he’d been so annoyingly attentive?

I really hoped it was not the case. Because if Sammy knew what I was feeling, thinking, then I’d surely have to kick him out of the mansion before I could reveal any more of myself. Emotions and I never did mix well.

I abandoned the library as soon I heard a roar of thunder erupt from the previously sunny sky, only to find myself at the beginning of the garden, keeping an eye out for the insufferable boy I’d have to fetch.

He was always running off and yet he never chose to just simply leave. Honestly, everything would’ve been easier for him if he left. So why didn’t he take that chance?

Before stepping into the garden, I looked down at myself, now wet with the pouring rain pounding down on everything in sight. The fountains were still erupting water, though that only diminished my sense of hearing. Visibility wasn’t good either.

How was I supposed to find Sammy?

Watching carefully, I walked to the forest edge and regarded that maybe he didn’t go into the garden at all, and instead probably ran off into the thick brush of trees.

Which of course was a terrible idea. The forest was never a place I ventured in, not even as a curious child. It was foreign, compared to the mansion and garden, honestly it scared me somewhat.

Though I didn’t believe the place was what frightened me the most at that moment. Sammy scared me, so much that I feared what he was capable of doing to me. I also did not want him to figure out that I’d slipped in my feelings.

He must’ve believed wholeheartedly that I still truly hated him. That was good. What wasn’t good was the fact that I was terrible at keeping my composure.

So how long until he figured it out?

Maybe he never would.

I ran my fingers through soaked hair, keeping an eye out for any sort of movement in the brush. Nothing seemed to be catching my attention.

What if Sammy never left the house? I’d ran after him so quickly, I didn’t even think of . . . thinking. Sammy muddled up my thoughts so much, I was beginning to think he could read my mind.

Defeated, I slumped against a tree, hanging my head low as the water poured down over me. I figured that I’d reached my lowest. I ran after a boy who I shouldn’t have cared for (twice), I’d saved him from drowning (technically), I’d saved him from falling (definitely), I was beginning to grow soft for him, the leech I’d repeatedly told myself to hate, and above all else I was starting to see that our constant fighting was beginning to be tiresome and repetitive.

It was as if we were shouting at each other, but not exactly saying what we really wanted to say. Because I held secrets from him, about him. He must’ve had them too.

What could they be?

I clasped my hands together, regarding the way they felt icy as the rain fell. No longer was it sunny and warm. The sudden change in weather had completely obliterated that. Hopefully this would be the only abnormal downpour of the summer.

With equally cold breath, I blew into my palms, to gain any sort of feeling in them. Whilst doing that, I cursed at the sky for bringing this all on at such an inconvenient time.

Now I was entirely soaked, shivering, and looking for someone who was most likely not even there. I was a fucking mess.

And who’s fault was that?

I sighed and turned in every direction, listening for anything. I really did not want to wish the worst for him. If he’d slipped and gotten hurt, then I definitely would’ve felt a slight twinge of guilt. He’d been distracted by something, and was acting strangely for a number of reasons, though I could easily pick out the biggest one: me.

I kicked the muddy earth, cursing under my breath.

That was when I heard a twig crack from behind.

“Lucas?”

I whipped my head around, quickly catching sight of a soaked Sammy standing in the middle of the forest, holding himself and trembling with cold. A small part of me was thankful to see him, and another part of me wanted to yell at him for running away.

Immediately, I grabbed his shoulders, taking a firm hold on him, “What were you thinking?” I scolded loudly.

He winced at my tone, “I—I . . .”

“What?” I shook him.

“I jinxed myself.” He said, nearly whispering.

I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly, grateful that he hadn’t gotten hurt. He was quite literally the most clumsiest person I’d ever met. It wouldn’t have been surprising if he’d twisted an ankle under such conditions.

“But . . .” Sammy began.

“But . . . ?” I shook his small frame again and regarded that he was probably wincing for a reason.

He pointed a finger to his right knee. “I fell and got . . . a small cut.”

“Are you serious?” I looked down to see that he had indeed gotten scraped, though it was nowhere near to being a simple cut.

“It’s not serious.” He said. The pouring rain was making it hard to hear him.

“Fuck, Sammy, that is not just a cut.” I scolded, kneeling down to watch as the wound on his knee bled. “We have to get it cleaned before it becomes festered.”

“It’s not that bad.” He argued back.

I silenced him by hooking my arms beneath his legs and back, as I’d done so previously to save him from that fall in the library. He made a small noise of protest as I carried him princess-style in my arms, easily.

“You’re too stubborn.” I told him, trekking through the muddy forest and into the opened garden once again.

Sammy wrapped his arms around me, mumbling, “I’m not.”

“And you’re clumsy.” I added, gripping onto him tightly.

He huffed, “I get it. I get it!”

“Now we’re both wet and you’re hurt and—” I stopped myself when I realized just how delirious he looked. The cut was bad, but it didn’t look as if he’d lost a lot of blood over it. Was it just because he was overwhelmed?

Sammy let his head rest on my chest suddenly, eyes drooping. It was the first time I’d seen him really relax around me.

For some reason, that made me feel accomplished.

Here was a fire I’d been trying to contain, and now by helping him, I’d managed to witness his flames being tame for once. It was remarkable, and more so remarkable to actually see.

I held him closer, afraid of the way he grew colder as time passed. His eyelashes fell against his smooth cheeks, cascading like feathers and catching raindrops.

I wanted some way to make him feel warm again. Though with both my arms lifting him, and without any help from anyone else, I told myself that this would have to be enough for now.

His arms sagged, but remained around my shoulders. He must’ve fallen asleep or fainted. Really, Sammy was such a fool.

“Fool.” I told his sleeping face.

I watched as his cold, reddened lips parted, unaware of the danger they were in. I could’ve easily stolen his first kiss. Sammy was too vulnerable for his own good. But then again, I was too soft-hearted to do something so against his wishes.

Once more, as I’d done so many times before, I stopped myself from stealing his lips. They’d be the death of me. That, or Sammy would be the death of me.

I stared up at the looming mansion once it came into view. It appeared more sinister in the rain. If Sammy were awake, he’d most likely bolt at the sight of it. Unfortunately, he was not.

With careful steps, I walked towards it, glaring at it.

Sammy remained asleep in my arms.

I placed him onto his bed with ease. Asleep, he felt like a rag doll. I didn’t exactly know what else to do but handle him with care and sit by his side as he curled in on himself, searching for warmth. I held his cheeks, feeling my cold hands on his equally cold skin. This time, despite my temperature, I was the one to warm him up from the cold. Was this what caring for another person was like?

Slowly, I grasped his shoulder and shook him, in order to wake him up. “Sammy.”

He mumbled incoherent words.

“Sammy, you’ll get sick if you wear those clothes.” I told him softly.

The boy lifted his hands to grab onto mine, eyes opening slightly to glance at me sleepily, “Lucas . . .”

“Did you really faint?” I asked him, astonished.

Sammy merely looked up at me, not saying a word.

I could feel the water seeping from my clothes and onto his bed. We were both disrupting the beautiful dryness of the sheets. Soon enough, we’d have to move to my bed.

“Lift your arms.” I ordered him.

He did as I commanded.

I brought his sweater up and over his head, and then proceeded to remove his ripped jeans as well. Fortunately, his T-shirt remained somewhat dry, and his boxers too. I didn’t know why I felt hesitant in removing those. I’d done worse to other people.

Sammy watched as I did so, still not saying anything until, “You’re wet too.”

I grabbed at my own shirt, regarding the way it stuck to my skin. My jeans were soaked through as well, though everything beneath hadn’t been spared like his. I needed to change thoroughly, though somewhere else preferably.

“Okay.” I told him, taking away the wet blankets and covering him with those that hadn’t been soaked. “Just . . . stay warm.”

“I’m fine.” He said again.

I got up, frustrated with his stubborn ways. It never ceased.

“Stay there.” I said, as if Sammy could manage to go anywhere else. “I’ll bring the first aid kit.”

Sammy stared at me as I departed.

I’d only left for a minute to grab the kit underneath the sink, and to change separately into something dry. We’d done intimate things, but this sure as hell wasn’t the time for any of that. Sammy was hurt, and I needed to help him recover.

With the first aid kit in tow, I came back to his bedroom. Sammy was still there, not shivering anymore, thank goodness, but he was still bleeding. Maybe it’d be better to bring him into my room and start the fireplace?

This made me think back to the moment when he said he wasn’t ‘delicate’. Sure he wasn’t delicate on the inside, but on the outside—

“Lift up your knee.” I unrolled the gauze while he obeyed. His legs, despite his olive skin tone, were pale. Well, I never did see him in anything other than those skinny jeans.

I took his leg and began disinfecting the wound. It was scraped badly, like he’d had a great fall somewhere. I didn’t bother to ask how or where, because I knew I’d get mad at him for wandering off.

My fingers held his leg up delicately. His skin was soft, supple, and the rest of him was so warm—

“Don’t cry.” I said, wiping away the excess blood off his knee. The wound would definitely leave a scar.

“I won’t cry this time.” He muttered.

“Please don’t. You gave me quite a shock at the party.” I remarked, dipping a fresh cotton pad into the bottle of alcohol.

“That’s not what I was referring to.” He said, looking away.

I paused.

What else could he have been talking about?

I ignored it. “You’ll have a scar here too.”

“I already had one, from long ago.” He informed me, returning to watch as I wrapped the gauze around his knee. “B-but that doesn’t matter. I don’t care.”

“Oh?” I said, glancing at his exposed thighs. His shorts were hiking up his legs, revealing more of that pale skin. “I”m terrified of scars.”

“Did you never get any as a child?” He asked.

“I did.” I told him. “Very deep scars, Sammy.”

He tapped at his knee, wincing when the pain struck him. He looked fascinated at the work I’d done. I couldn’t help but feel accomplished again.

Sammy had taken off his glasses and left them on his pillow. It must’ve been a bad habit. Out of annoyance, I clambered over him to place the spectacles on his nightstand.

“You’re going to break these glasses one day.” I said, scowling down at him.

He shrugged, “I’m clumsy. I can’t do anything about that.”

“At least try to be more careful.” I advised.

“I don’t have to listen to you.” He replied.

“This is the thanks I get for carrying you to bed?” I asked, scoffing. “We had a bonding moment. I cradled you in my arms, Sammy.”

He laughed, genuinely. It was a bright laugh, smiley and so . . . happy. It wasn’t something I generally saw on a daily basis.

“Whatever.” He responded, still smiling at my joke.

I couldn’t help but return his gaze with a smirk, “Then how about a reward?”

Sammy grew suspicious instantly. “ . . . reward?”

“In the form of a kiss—” I suggested, but was cut off abruptly.

He had leaned in as I’d said it, and planted a light kiss to my cheek, slowly, while grasping onto my new, dry shirt with nimble fingers.

I looked down into his eyes, shocked when he was done. That was quick.

He averted his gaze away, skin pink with embarrassment. “T-there. There’s your kiss.”

“No.” I said, still surprised at his response. I shook my head to clear my muddled mind. I’d forgotten how unpredictable he was. “But I’ll let it slide.”

He returned to look at me, though he didn’t say anything more.

I could feel where he’d kissed me. It was warm. I wanted to laugh at how innocent it all was, and yet here he was as red as he always got whenever he became angry. It was amusing.

I thought over all of this as I glanced at the window. Sammy really was the most interesting person I’d ever come across. It made me afraid that I’d never meet anyone like him again.

Why did I feel like that observation was true? Maybe life would indeed return to being dull without him. It scared me to think so.

I placed a hand on my cheek, and hid a small smile, and a laugh.

The rain had finally stopped.