Silence hung in the air, but Sam didn't mind.
The thudding of his lover's heart rang in his ears as his cheek pressed against his stone-like chest. His breathing was slow and steady, his heart beat rhythmatically, and his arms wrapped around his lover's abdomen.
Despite the fur blankets wrapped around them and their bodies pressed tightly together, Sam felt a cold, hollow sensation. He craved the warmth of two arms wrapped around his body, the feeling of one's warm breath down the back of his neck, and hearing his name melt like honey on a lover's tongue.
Sam felt neither when it came to Clayton. The words that came out of his mouth were mostly lies, including the three little words he whispered every blue moon into Sam's ear to kindle the dying flame in their relationship. Sam could vividly remember the smallest moments when they first began speaking to one another; when Sam thought it was all real. The flowers, the food, the warmhearted texts and the late night movies.
But it was something, his desire, his longing, perhaps it was his deep hunger for love that enthralled him with Clayton's presence. It was the small bit of excitement that ignited in his heart when he thought of love, and maybe it was that feeling that made him yearn even harder for it.
"Sam." The sudden break of silence startled Sam, and he supported himself on his elbows to get a better look at the man lying beside him.
"Yeah?"
"Hey, look. There's something I've been wanting to tell you. Just don't be offended."
The last line made Sam's plucked eyebrows furrow, and he rubbed the sleep from corners of his ocean blue eyes.
Clayton sucked in a deep breath.
"I don't... love you, Sam."
