I'm vaguely aware of a hand running through my hair and I lean into the touch naturally, sighing as I revel in the feeling. My mind slowly registers more and more until I feel capable of coherent thought, at which point I decide it's a good idea to see who the hand in my hair belongs to.
I wrench my eyes open slowly, looking up slightly as my blurred vision focuses. Sam is sat beside me, my head actually balanced in his lap and I wonder how he managed to wiggle his way into this position without waking me.
His eyes are tired, shadowed with the physical proof of a bad night's sleep and his hair sticks up in odd directions. His chest is bare but he is sporting a pair of my jogging bottoms. His stare is straight ahead, his expression far away and weary but he looks content, his hand never ceasing its relaxing ministrations.
I decide to embrace it for a little bit longer, not used to such open affection from Sam. In general, I'm not keen on physical interaction, so he's usually very careful with me, careful not to push me too far; physically or emotionally.
It's my own fault, I know that but I've never been a very openly affectionate person. Blame my father. I only wish that Sam knew how much I enjoy the closeness.
I sigh heavily and Sam's hand pauses for a moment, his breathing stilling for a moment before he continues.
"I've been awake for the past twenty minutes, Sam." I mumble, almost incomprehensibly as his leg muffles my voice. His hand stills again and I grumble in disapproval. Sam laughs shakily and resumes playing with my hair. I sigh in contentment.
"Why didn't you say anything?" He asks.
"You woulda stopped." I mutter and Sam huffs but doesn't argue, we both know I'm right.
"Did you sleep well?" He asks and I shake my head, nestling further into his lap.
"Not long enough." I complain and Sam tuts.
"When did you get to sleep?"
"Four." I grumble hatefully and Sam inhales sharply.
"Eli! What the hell, were you cleaning up?" He asks and I nod.
"You're ridiculous." He states incredulously and I don't bother to argue. He doesn't speak again, his fingers resuming their journey through my hair. My mind drifts between consciousness and unconsciousness, faintly recognising voices but my fatigue wins out in the end.
When I wake up again, my mind automatically tunes in to Sam's voice, which is currently speaking softly.
"He's been doing a lot for me lately, let him rest." He insists, his hand gently grazing over my shoulder and down my back, resting there and providing me with a strange sense of comfort.
"When did he get to bed?" Robin asks faintly.
"He said four am." Sam responds and Ash laughs deeply.
"He sent us up at three, told us he wouldn't be long." He admits and Sam sighs heavily.
"This boy." He mutters, although his voice is warm; not at all irritated.
"Everyone can see how much you care, Sam. Why not just tell him?" Robin asks and he shifts slightly beneath my head, careful not to disturb me.
"I already know." I grumble under my breath and Sam bursts into laughter.
I crack an eye open and find Robin looking sheepish.
"You already know?" Ash asks, an eyebrow raised and I glare at him.
"Course I do, he's my person." I mumble and Sam smiles above me.
"Your person?" Robin asks, glancing at Ash quizzically. He looks just as confused and they both look to Sam, wondering if he knows what I'm talking about.
YOU ARE READING
Growing Pains
Teen Fiction-A soulmate story- Sam and Eli are best friends, they have been for years and they tell each other everything. Well, almost everything. Elias Grey has felt every cut, bruise and fracture that Samuel Rivera has received for eleven years. He has no...
