WHO; Dean Urquhart and Sam Harper.
WHEN; After midnight.
WHERE; The 6th years boys dorm.
SUMMARY; A little talk between friends..?
RATING; TBA.
STATUS; In progress.
Three days he had now spent outside of the Hospital wing, most of the itch was gone and nothing than a few brushes across his body, could tell anyone what had been going on with him that night that he had been such an idiot. Sure, Sam did punch people if he wasn't all happy with them, if it was serious that is, and to him this had been pretty serious, but it had been idiotic this time too, very. What had he been thinking that he actually could get away with it all? That Stewart wouldn't tell and this wouldn't happen? That no one would know and he would just go on living his happy life? And what about Dean? Had he really been thinking that after he had beaten up Stewart Dean would just throw himself into his arms and want him instead all of a sudden? No, he really didn't know what he had been thinking, but he sure knew that he had been hoping on all of those things at least. But honestly, he didn't think that he had been thinking much at all when he had rounded that corner and seen them kissing and saying goodbye, sounding all in love almost and it had just made him sick, and green with jealous and so angry it had bubbled inside of him. So he had just not been thinking at all, and he had just reacted to it all the way he wanted right then, all the anger and jealous had been too much to bare right in that moment. Right now though, he was calm.. These past days after he had gotten out of the Hospital Wing had been awful, yes there was really no other word to describe it with. All the looks at him as he walked down the corridors, or into the Great hall, the looks of curiosity, but in a negative way. Not in the way he wanted the attention to be there, by people wanting him or wanting to be him. It was nothing like that, it was just awful and he felt like prisoner in Azkaban, and like he had become his father, the death eater in there and he had to really now suffer for what he had done, and it was hard, all these thoughts he tried to very hard to press away by always doing something, or talking with something or doing someone. Yeah, all of those thoughts came right now up into his head and he had nothing to do to get them away with. No one to actually talk to that would not ask why in a very negative kinda way, and then judge him by everything. And he really couldn't take all of those. He was like a shadow of his old self when he began thinking of all these worrying thoughts again, and he so hated it, so so much..
When he was now laying in his bed, after he had gone to bed for around four hours ago around eight o'clock, but still he hadn't fallen asleep, and to be honest the last couple of days he had from between zero to three hours of sleep, and he felt like a freaking zoombie, but yet he couldn't close his eyes and relax enough to actually fall asleep. He could hear his dormmates snoring and mumbling in their sleeps around him, and he turned slowly from his stomach to lay on his back to just stare up into the dark ceiling of his bed. He knew Dean was in his next to him, but even if they had said they could talk, it hadn't been so. To be honest Sam hadn't seen much of Dean at all lately, and when he did, because he could only go pretty much to the Great Hall and to his classes, he was near Stewart. He ate his meals, he always did, but he was slow and he just ate because he had to really, feeling like he was sick with some illness that people didn't dare walk too close to him from fear of actually getting it to. He wonder what that illness would be call.. lovesick? Was that the word, was he really that? Not really, he would guess. He would call that illness more something like loneliness, and he would so class the illness as one of the worse, because he felt so unhappy, the last time had felt like this, was when his father had died, this time though.. There was no one there that could actually tell him that everything would be ok, because those people that had once told him that, was now either ignoring him, or fearing the illness. He wanted so badly to just get up and go over to Dean and curl down into his bed and under his covers and.. and he really didn't know what more, but even if it sounded silly, it felt like that was just it, that was just what he wanted right now. To just lay close to someone, this was one of the reason why he not often at all didn't sleep alone, and now he had so many nights alone and the darker, that usually scared him alot, not scared him even more. He suddenly sat up in his bed, the curtains closed around it, and looked at his right where he knew Dean's bed where behind the curtains, so why couldn't he just go there..? He sighed and got his hands up over his face, felt how his eyes were suddenly tearing up, and how his head was starting ache, he dragged his feet down suddenly off the edge of his bed and then he pushed the curtains aside and walked down onto the ice cold stone floor. What if he was going to say no and not let him at all even come near him, and even worse ignore him.. But even though all of those fears and the darkness around him scaring him more and more, he whispered out as he got one of the curtains around Dean's bed up. "Dean.. please.."
