THE DIFFERENT KIND OF LOVE

CHAPTER1.3 ACCIDENT

Zayn could read into his tension and came to his rescue; the fear in his eyes was way too obvious. Snapping his fingers in front of Sam. Zayn yells ''Sam! Back to earth, he keeps repeating, which snaps Sam out of daydreaming. Sam wakes from his dreaming to hear Zayn complaining, but he can’t connect it to himself ''I can't believe he likes you,'' Zayn whines under his breath. He scowls, faking annoyance. Zayn is always the center of attention as he knows how to get it, but Nate had not even spared him a glance.

''Yes? Are you saying something,'' Sam asks as his eyes widen, startled, trying to read the room. He feels lightheaded and drunk. His head buzzes from the drinks. The room seemed to spin around him. He squinted his eyes, but still he couldn’t make out their faces; he could only hear their voices.

''He is asking if they could join us, him and his friends,'' Zayn repeats, seductively looking at Nate. Sam could feel Zayn's tone begging him to agree, so he did exactly that. ''Okay,'' he answered sharply, unconcerned, clueless of Nate’s interest in him.

Nate turns and waves at his friends, and they join them at their table. Sitting with the three was considered an honor, and just mentioning a little interaction with them could bring them endless benefits. He grabs a chair and sits next to Sam.

''You shouldn’t drink too much. Are you okay? Would you like some water instead?'' Do you have a headache? Nate asks, his deep voice full of concern. But he was a stranger to Sam, and the deep concern in his voice felt pretentious.

''You will get in trouble,'' he keeps talking and showed no sign of stopping.

''Stop nagging, I am always in trouble,'' Sam answers lazily, unconcerned. But the unending questions felt uncomfortable.

Bothered, Sam turns abruptly to look at the source of the annoyance and comes face to face with Nate staring at him, his dark eyes trying to convey his feelings. He hated it when others looked at him like that. It annoyed him as he wasn’t able to differentiate whether it was love, desire, or lust they wanted from him. And it annoyed him even more as he knew he couldn't allow himself to give in to his desires.

Everyone at the table could feel the tension in the air. As the intensity of his gaze darkened, they all looked away, even his two friends. They couldn’t meet Sam’s eyes. Sometimes, when he got angry, he was just as bad as his brother.

Not energized enough for drama, Sam gets up, annoyed.

''I am going to dance,'' Sam scowls, stands up, and makes his way down the dance floor. It reeks of stale air thick with sweat, alcohol, and different scents of expensive perfumes. He joins the crowd and sways drunkenly, charming his way into the hearts of those who catch sight of his graceful body. Eager young men and ladies move to dance next to him, hoping to gain his attention. He didn’t like the attention, but he was a beauty in his own right. He deserved the praise.

Zayn joins him on the dance floor, dancing next to him. He leans in towards his shoulder and whispers in his ear. "He likes you." Sam looks up and meets Zayn’s inquiring eyes, and he immediately knows who he is referring to.

''He is not my type,'' he retorts, rolling his eyes. Getting more annoyed. Sam did not like how Zayn was always on his business, but he couldn’t avoid him as he didn’t have lots of friends, and Zayn seemed to care for him. Money and power attracted many, but the rate of betrayal was too high; it was simply best to avoid everyone, he had decided. They always acted like they didn’t want anything in return, but there is always a price to pay.

''Hahaha…,’’ he giggled mockingly. ''Do you even know your type? You have never been in a relationship,'' he blubbers, trying to persuade him. Zayn knows Sam was troubled and, as a good friend, he has been trying over the years to help him come to terms with himself. But his way is all wrong. Matching Sam with guys he thought were great and nice was not going to help at all.

''I haven’t seen anyone annoy you like he does or even gain your attention. Maybe you should give him a chance.'' He softly suggests." He seems like a great guy; his eyes are just for you. "He utters in disbelief and a little aggrieved tone in his voice. "He hasn’t even looked at me throughout the night. And I am this gorgeous.'' His eyes widen as he claims himself a beauty.

''I know what you are doing, but not tonight. 'Get over it, Zayn, I am not interested.'' Sam argues back, giving him a warning look. Annoyed, he turns to face the other side and comes face to face with Nate. He had followed them, dancing beside him all that time, and most likely he heard their conversation, making the atmosphere between them uncomfortable as they both tried to avoid eye contact.

His dark eyes watching Sam like a hunter brings back the memories that gain his attention. His body tenses, tracing the man's outline, familiarity ringing in his tone. Shattering his unrealistic dreams about his love. Calling out the part of himself he is trying so much to suppress. For a second, he is taken in. Those gray eyes. Nate had his eyes, but a minute later, he is reminded that he is not the one he yearns for and turns away, annoyed at the sudden surge of desire Nate has evoked in him. Turning the pure love he had into a joke.

He can't allow himself to make new memories with someone else. He was afraid he would forget. He would forget him, his scent, his body, his hand in his hair, how well he held him, and how he fitted perfectly into his arms. The sound of his heart beating rapidly whenever he held him. Countless thoughts cross his mind. He doesn't hate Nate, but he just doesn't like how well he fits into a gap that was not his to fill, and his persistence annoyed him even more.

Seeing Sam distracted and his eyes dulled, Nate lightly put his hands around him, gently, intimately trying to comfort him, when suddenly he awoke and erupted, pushing his hands away. Sam's eyes filled with fury. Sam felt like he was about to tell the world about himself, announcing his big secret to the world, and he couldn’t allow that. '' There is nothing between us, get your hands off me,'' he shouted, glaring at Nate, and pushed him off. His reaction gains the attention of others on the dance floor, giving him surprised looks.

He turns and looks at Nate, but Sam can't comprehend the pained expression on his face. Nate is completely shocked and breathless. Which was giving the crowd the wrong impression of Sam, and he didn’t like it. He owes him no explanation; he was the rude one.

''You shouldn’t be looking at me like that,'' he yells, feeling frustrated. He hates drama, and here he is creating one for himself. His heart rate spikes. He felt like a caged animal full of anger and beastly feelings that were about to erupt. Am I the only crazy one? Is he looking for me, too? Why hasn’t he found me yet? Countless questions cross his mind. Where is he? He wants to shout out all his frustrations, but he can't. He felt dizzy. The world feels like it's coming apart, and he is lost in it.

He walks off the dance floor, rushes through the crowd, and exits the club. His mind and body are occupied, but by whom exactly he can't tell. So much time had passed, but he seemed to have promised himself to a man he couldn't remember nor dare to forget.

He walks out into the night and inhales the cold air, distracted and angry at himself. The stars are scarce. The night feels colder, and his hands instinctively rub his arms gently to generate heat. He does not notice the dark clouds have gathered, and a storm is on the way. He needs time alone to collect himself. He falls to his knees, curling into a ball, trying to control his panicked breathing. His driver rushes to him and tries to lift him, but Sam does not budge, and the driver, being gay too, does not help his situation. He didn't want a man anywhere near him. "Give me the car keys.'' he looks up and orders his driver, stretching out his hand towards him.

''Young master, let me drive. "You are drunk, and you might get hurt,'' the driver begs. ''Your safety is my main obligation, and if I fail, the trouble coming my way will be more than just losing my job. But Sam is too stubborn; he isn’t listening.

''The more you talk, the more I feel like you will not be losing just your job. Now give me the keys. Sam clenched his jaws stubbornly as he commanded drunkenly. ''I know what I am doing.'' His world was spinning out of control.