This Was Never Gonna Be Simple

I gripped Sean's hand tightly again as we headed upstairs. My room door was left open, just a tiny crack, but enough for me to notice what a state it was: CDs were scattered all over my bed, which hadn't been made in at least two days; clothes lay on the floor from when I'd tried to throw them into the wash basket, missed, and gave up; there were books lying around all over; and somehow, one drumstick was sat neatly on my bedside table, while the other was perched rather worryingly on the windowsill. Normally I'd ignore the mess and get on with whatever it was I was doing, but I felt extremely self conscious with Sean here and I couldn't explain why.

"Wait a second," I said quickly, standing in front of the door to prevent him from walking in.

He protested just like I expected, but I managed to hold him back long enough for me to make some sort of improvement. It still wasn't, by any definition, tidy, but I'd made it look a little better. It would have to do anyway, because Sean was getting impatient, and if I held him back any longer, he'd probably whine me to death or something.

I relented and opened the door for him, and the first thing I expected him to do was have a bit of a nosy round and poke at all my stuff. He didn't, though. Instead, he dashed over to the middle of the room and flopped down on my bed, grinning at me.

"Your bed's comfy," he informed me, in a matter of fact way, but his smile was still as wide as ever. I giggled at him (shh, it's manly to giggle now, okay?).

"That's why I sleep there," I replied, shrugging and trying to keep up the same nonchalant attitude he had. I failed miserably of course, but he seemed amused anyway.

I started to walk over, meaning to sit down beside him, but before I could, he leapt up, displacing a few of the CDs I'd left there. Sooner than I was able to question him on it, though, he was over the other side of the room, inspecting something else. I knew curiosity would get the better of him eventually, but I wondered what it was that had caught his eye.

I wandered over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He jumped in shock, dropping whatever it was he was holding. I didn't mean to do it, I swear. Might as well see what it was, though.

I bent down to lift it, before deciding to just abandon everything and sit on the carpeted floor. I yanked on Sean's arm, and he, too, sat down. Well, I say sat, but I really mean he fell flat on his arse, which was what I wanted.

It was only when Sean was sat down next to me that I actually looked to see what it was he dropped. It was a CD, and I picked it up carefully. A smile found its way onto my face immediately. It was an old Blink album that Aled had bought me for Christmas a few years ago, back when we were still in that wretched hospital. I'd mentioned to all of them: Aled, Shay and Sean, that they were my favourite band - just a quick remark in a conversation, the sort of thing you add in, but doesn't hold any great meaning - that Blink-182 were my favourite band, and he'd remembered. It meant a lot to me.

Sean smiled sheepishly at me, and his cheeks held a light blush. "Aled got you that, right?"

I nodded, wondering what he was getting at.

"Do you know why he got you it?" His voice was little more than a whisper now.

That confused me. He got me it because they were my favourite band, isn't that it? I mean, there's not really anything deeper than that. Unless Aled hadn't remembered at all and had just by chance, picked up something that looked interesting, and unknowingly given me a fucking awesome present. That's highly unlikely though.

"I didn't think you would." Sean smiled at me. "I told him to."

Now, that, I had no idea about. I tried to say something to him, but the words just wouldn't come, so I gave up on that, and instead, threw my arms around him. He tittered and wrapped his arms around me too. I honestly don't know how I managed the last three years without him.