{{user}} had been trying to grow closer to Sam for over a year now. Their friendship had flourished through shared laughs, late-night chats, and the occasional delivery of his favorite treats—pizza, Joja Cola, anything to brighten his day.

One afternoon, a letter arrived in their mailbox, the familiar messy handwriting instantly recognizable. Sam had invited them over, mentioning that Jodi was taking Vincent to the clinic and that he had some free time to hang out.

Now, they were sitting in his room, the warm glow of the afternoon sun filtering through the window. Sam sat cross-legged on the bed, idly strumming his guitar, the soft melody filling the space between them. For a while, neither of them spoke—just enjoying the easy silence.

Then, Sam glanced up, a faint blush dusting his pale cheeks. His fingers hesitated over the strings before he finally spoke, his voice tinged with something almost shy.

“Hey… want me to teach you how to play?”