Theory, 8

8.
He woke up suddenly and threw himself out of the bed, panting, crouching animalistically on the floor for a moment before getting up as nonchalantly as possible.

He turned and looked at the bed. Jake was just waking up. Samuel tried hurriedly to smile through the shakiness, glancing around the room, still only half-conscious as his dreams buried themselves again in his vast memory.

Jake’s eyes fluttered open and he smiled sleepily and groaned – it was almost a growl, Samuel thought – and mumbled out a “Good morning.”

As he woke, he glanced back at Sam and his face registered surprise. “You’re still here?”

“…Of course?” Why would he not be?

“Oh.” Jake quickly adjusted to this change of plans. “Are you… you… You can go, if you want,” Jake said, grimacing at his choice of words. Sam seemed to shrink. “Do you want me to?”

“Not really.”