Stay Right Where You Are.

*Alan's P.O.V*

"We should probably get going," I say tiredly, looking up at him. "It's going on four forty-five."

"Alright," He sighs, regret dripping from every word. "Are you sure you have to go today?"

"I'm sure, beautiful." I chuckle lightly, giving him a small smile.

He blushes, yet still groans, rather obnoxiously. How I still found it cute, was a mystery even to myself. "I was really enjoying our cuddle session."

"And you think I wasn't?" I scoff, pulling myself into a sitting position. My back cracks loudly, and Austin scrunches up his nose.

"Fuck, you're crunchy." He states, rubbing at his eyes. I can't help but think that he looks like a small boy, not wanting to go to school.

"Crunchy?" I chuckle, looking down at him with a large smile. "I didn't even think that could be a word used to describe a person."

"Well it can be, and that person is you." He responds, sitting up almost instantly, almost smashing foreheads with me. "Are you gonna get all dressed up for Samantha?" He hates her so much, I almost felt bad for going to visit her. Almost.

"Since when do I ever get dressed up?" I ask, rolling my eyes and hopping off of the best I could. To my surprise, it doesn't squeak one bit.

"Since never, I guess." He shrugs, letting out an over-exaggerated sigh.

"Oh, calm down, Aus." I counter his sigh, as I swing open my closet doors. "You get me all night, I deserve to see my friends once in awhile." My fingers ghost over each potential clothing choice.

"But I want you all to myself." He says, and just from the tone in that stunning voice, I can tell my dream boy has his lips in the form of a pout.

I pull a black v-neck off of its hanger and turn to face him. "Greedy, aren't we?"

"Not greedy," He grins, and my heart melts at the sight of seeing him so content. "Obsessed, might be a better fit."

I roll my eyes and fight a blush as I pull the shirt up to my chest. "This would look okay, right?"

"I really don't see why you even ask me." He answers, pulling the comforter around himself. "You know what the answer is."

"I take that as a no." I spin on my heel and pretend to put the shirt away. Shit, I knew the answer. I just wanted to hear him say it. It'd been two years and all I wanted was to hear those words gliding effortlessly out of his mouth.

"You make everything look beautiful." His voice is quiet, and I turn back around to find a sad smile on his face.

"Oh Austin," The shirt falls from my fingertips and I immediately make my way over to him. I sit on the edge of the bed. I take his hands in mine, and hold them like I mean it, gazing intently into his eyes as I search for a sign.

"We're together now, there's no need to worry." I say softly, giving a small smile as his eyes only get deeper and deeper, glossing over as they fill up with tears.

"I-I'm scared she'll t-take you away a-again." He whispers, tears now falling freely down his cheeks. Oh how I wished he'd stop crying...

"She won't," I say quietly, forcing a smile. "I won't allow it."

My thoughts trail back to eleventh grade when Sammy had forced me to go on a three week summer road trip with her and a few friends, like Justin and her girlfriend at the time. When I had returned home-

"Promise me." His voice rings through my ears, and breaks me away from my thoughts. I didn't like thinking back to high school anyway.

"I promise." I answer, holding out my pinkie for him to take.

He smiles and wraps his pinkie around mine.

"I, Alan Anthony Ashby," I recite, it was like reading the words from a book. "Promise to stay by your side for as long as I possibly can. No questions asked."

•••

"I love you."

"I love you too, okay? Have fun with the guys." I reply, giving him a peck on the lips before carefully getting out of the car.

Closing the door, I gave him a large smile before turning around and beginning the walk up the long, black, paved driveway. I just wanted for him to drive away already, he didn't need to watch me go in, I would be fine. I was relieved when I heard the car pull away, though.

Finally reaching the front doorstep, I quickly tapped my knuckles against the door twice, the way I had always done it. Yes, I realize it's a common technique for knocking, but I don't really give a shit. Suddenly, the doorknob turns and the door is pulled open widely and there is a blonde fucking bombshell standing before me.

"Alan!" She says happily, jumping up and wrapping me in a tight hug. Her perfume smells fucking amazing.

"S-Sammy?!" I ask in bewilderment, marveling at the beautiful grown-up version of my very best friend. Instead of straight, short, caramel colored hair, she had long, blonde hair with a hint of a wave to it.

"C'mon in!" She smiles again, almost as if she were trying to show off all of her perfect, straight, and shimmering white teeth.

"Alright, alright," I say, sort of chuckling to myself under my breath. "I'm comin' Sam."

Walking into the house I had once been in, nothing had changed. Not a single thing had been moved out of place since the last time I'd been here. The black couches were still pushed up close to the wall, the large TV was still mounted on the wall, and all the magnets had remained on the fridge.

"So, how have things been?" She asks, pulling me over to the plushy black couch and sitting down with me.

It still took me awhile to take her in...she was gorgeous. She still had her tongue pierced, stretched ears, her nose ring, (We had gotten them together.) and her monroe was still there too. Her eyes still remained dark brown, resembling Austin's except there was no warmth in them.

"Things are," I try to think of a decent word to describe my life the wasn't totally bullshit. "Better, I guess." Lie.

"You guess?" She raises her perfectly trimmed eyebrows and crosses her legs in front of her, (Criss-cross applesauce.) a habit we shared. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well," I trail off, signaling that I don't necessarily want to answer a question like this since this is the first time I'd seen her in a long time.

"Alan." She says, using her typical motherly tone on me for probably the millionth time since we've met. "For fuck's sake, will you just tell me what's happened? If you would have just texted me, or hung out with me, things would be fine!"

I run a hand roughly through my hair, feeling a bit stressed already. "I know, I know. Okay, Sam? I fucked up. I'm sorry, I really am. He left and things just...they got very bad."

She scoots closer, eyes brightening up a bit and paying even closer attention. "Have...have they come back?"

I tilt my head a bit in confusion, even though I knew damn right what she was talking about. "Has what come back?"

"The fucking thoughts. You know?" She replies, using her hands to talk for her a little bit, waving them in front of her for emphasize.

Had they come back? Yes. Was I willing to tell her? Maybe. What would she do if I did? She would help me, for sure. What if she sent me to the psychiatric ward? Oh shut up Alan, Austin wouldn't allow that in a kazillion years.

"Yeah, uh, and I think that t-they've gotten worse." I say, feeling rather awkward talking to someone I hadn't seen in two years.

"He's back." She replies dryly, lighting running her tongue over her pastel pink lips. Austin and Sammy really didn't click like I had hoped they would. They seemed like they could be excellent friends if they wanted to. But that was the problem. Neither one of them wanted to be friends with the other, which sort of broke my heart.

"Austin?" I question, as she nods. "Oh yeah, he is...things are alright, y'know?"

"No, Alan. I don't know. Care to enlighten me?" She says, as I can begin to detect the anger in her voice as her eyes narrow.

"Well, I-I don't know, Sam. We're dating again and, Justin's boyfriend is having a birthday party tomorrow. We're going to that." I say, not really knowing what else to add to the statement.

"Who's he dating?" She asks, turning her head back to look at me, tossing her hair tastefully over her skinny pale shoulder.

"I think his name is Andy, I don't know." I say bitterly, deciding that it would be a good time to study the crevices in the wooden floors. I really hated Justin right now. "I'd rather not talk about him."

"Oh, okay. That's fine." She says, sounding confused.

"Why don't you and Austin get along?" I ask, merely out of wild confusion.

She looks shocked, but recovers quickly. "We're very different people."

"Not really."

"Look, I really don't wanna go into this right now. I want to know how you're doing, okay?" She replies, motioning for me to continue speaking about myself.

"Um, okay." I say, shifting uncomfortably, not really knowing what to respond with.

After a few seconds of thinking, I heard a door squeak open and footsteps padding lightly against the wooden floor.

"Sam?" A feminine voice calls out, and someone comes into view.

She's short, maybe about 5'2. Her wavy hair is black as night and goes down to about her bellybutton. She stands on two pale, skinny legs with tattoos covering every inch of her thighs, only a few on her calves and ankles. Her face is skinny, cheeks gaunt and a small nose. She has small dark circles, but her piercing blue eyes almost cancel them out.

"Oh, you must be Alan." She smiles, and I notice that she's only wearing Sammy's volleyball shirt from twelfth grade, and one sock.

"Uh, y-yeah." I reply nervously, my hands beginning to fidget in my lap.

"Alan, this is my girlfriend Beryl." Sam smiles proudly, as the dark-haired girl walks over and places herself on the couch next to my best friend.

"You don't mind if she's here, do you?" She asks, batting her eyelashes as if she was begging with me.

I give in, and feel myself gulp.

"No, n-not at all."