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Sam looked around at the world and found himself filled with peace -like this was the best moment of his life but it was just the right now.
Light dappled across the floor, streaming in from the windows, making the thin dark blue carpet appear torn with teal tears and he loved it. The world speaks to him in a song: the shared laughter of Ben and Adam next to him.
It's a stupid airport and Sam is stupid tired. But there is nowhere else he'd rather be.
" it was sooooo funny when i sent you the message for the third curse- like you properly freaked out hahah"
“It almost killed me. Like I felt my heart fall through my chest for a second there” Adam chimes in.
Sam just stares at them with glee.
Not in a weird way, just he loves his friends. Watching the contortions and curves of Adam's face glow when he speaks. He wonders if Adam has ever felt insecure about his looks? If he has ever looked into a mirror and felt lost? Sam couldn’t get how if he tried - as when Sam is spiraling in silence or in pedanticism, it's Adam who can ground him. An anxious heap of a man standing in front of him saying how Sam is wrong is an anchor and Sam is blessed for it. He wishes he was a man.. just a bit. But he is the sea and the ocean, always moving, everywhere and drowning but occasionally swallows iron so great it stays. He is glad Adam has stayed, he’s glad to be alive. It’s weird, he knows what he wants and he has it and there have been days where to think like this for Sam, was fantasy beyond fiction.
"Sam! Hey, wakey wakey. I put a bajillion dollars on the company card" Ben teases, sailing youthful humour to pull Sam back into his senses (it's warm like a sun baked shore).
" Mmhm, sure." he smiles, a bit too wide, he feels space touch his teeth, too much, probably.
God why doesnt he care? Tapping his phone against his right thigh- it feels cold, heavy with labour, a black brick with no story to tell except the grazes and gashes of brick walls in small british towns and english cities. Little lives he plagues when they waltz off a plane all American. But he’s too tired for guilt, with too much lost to mourn the living and regardless its love - of some sort.
"SAMMMM" Ben groans again, intentional and ironic attention seeking. (God it's the worst gift to feel wanted).
" Yeah?! "
"Are you okay? You keep zoning out.."
The blond’s mouth begins to feel thick and chewy, salvia sour and jaw tight. He stares into the eyes of the friends opposite him, effacing joy with a small glaze of worry, tiny prickles of: What if there is some good gone from this tall being that lays living in front of me? I have spent some of my dying with you and I feel the burden of the news but It would break me even marginally if you felt it too?
"I can play the piano." tumbles out of Sam in black and white, monotone like always but with a pace that crescendos and locks eye to eye with the wind.
Ben and Adam's faces look relieved (mostly) with confusion.
"Cool and also huh? And also what? And also that honestly makes it sound like you're not okay as what." Adam spits out, the words falling onto the floor and joining Sam’s, pooling around the triangle of their feet.
"No, don’t worry, I’m good. I just hope you know that you know me and that I’m glad to know y’all"
"Awww Sam!" Ben says with enthusiasm "Play us plane music… to get ready for the plane."
"What." Sam responds, picking up one of Adam’s words from the floor and sharing it out.
"Yeah Sam" Adam joins in, "Play us ‘plane music’, also we are glad to know you, but more importantly!! Make a piano appear out of thin air and hit those ‘piano plane chords’, please and thank you."