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Tell me to stop
It’s 4 AM, and my doorbell is ringing again. I’ve barely slept for two hours, having worked super late to get a project for work finished on time.
It’s needless to say that I’m very much pissed off when I roll out of bed with a groan. I catch a look at myself in the mirror in my hallway as I stomp my way through it. My hair is a huge mess and my eyes are red due to the lack of sleep I have been getting lately. This is so not something I want to deal with right now. I can taste the blood lust on the back of my tongue, feel my blood boil in my veins. My anger is sky-rocketing and I start cursing under my breath.
God have mercy on my neighbor’s soul! He will regret waking me up at this hour.
I rip the door open after the fifth desperate ring of the doorbell. I step forward the second the door is out of the way.
“NO!” I declare, waving my hands aggressively in front of me, “N O, it spells no! I told you last time I didn’t want you coming over here in the middle of the night, just because you can’t face your stupid one night stands in the morning! I have a life to live, a job to keep! And so do you!”
“I’m so sorry y/n, I promise this is the last time I’ll ever ask this of you.”
“You said that last time too!”
“I know, but I swear this woman is crazy! She has already started planning our wedding and given our kids names. Please please save me.”
I let a deep growl rumble out of my throat. “Sam Winchester” I say slowly, “You will have to feel the consequences of your poor decisions someday.”
“I know, I’m a horrible person, but please just let me hide here so I can get rid of her! I promise you I’ll make it up to you somehow” he begs. He’s practically ready to fall to his knees in front of me.
I kinda like seeing him this way, this desperate. I like the feeling of his eyes clinging to mine. It’s one of the rare times where he really looks at me.
When I sigh I can already see the glow of victory in his eyes. Who was I kidding anyway? I knew he would get what he wanted the second I decided to get out of bed. “Fine” I sigh in defeat, “You know where the spare pillow is. I’m going back to bed.”
“Thank you, thank you so much!” He steps inside when I pull back and he wraps me in a hug instantly. I just pad him gently on the back, trying not to feel like total crap over how much I wished he would hug me differently, tighter. Once he lets go of me in favor of going hunting for the spare pillow, that I have started secretly calling his pillow in my head, I push the front door shut.
I wave at him when I pass the door to the living room, feeling a throb of sadness in my heart over watching him put bedding over my couch so he can sleep there. God, how many times have I wished the situation was different and he was getting ready to sleep in my bed instead?
Stop it. I'm not thinking about that. Those silly self-pitying thoughts are for the weak.
I made a decision to not ask him out a long time ago, when I figured out his obvious bad-relationship-record. I don’t wish to become just another one of those girls he hides from. I value myself way too much to ever allow that to happen. Besides, I like the friendship we have. I don’t want to ruin that by going down a path I already know the end too.
My bed has never looked as comforting as it does when I walk into my bedroom again. I quickly jump into it again, burying myself under my blankets. I pull a pillow closer to me and hug it tightly to my chest, trying to will away the hurt in my heart. I know I have made a conscious decision, but it still hurts so badly. How could it not, when I like him so much? It hurts to have the thing you desire waved in your face, knowing that it’s just an illusion, that it will never be yours.
My eyes flutter close, and despite my great attempts to will the images of Sam lying next to me away, they don’t disappear. Instead, once sleep catches up to me, I dream of a fairytale life I will never have.
At least I still have my dreams.
I wake up to the smell of something delicious.
The sun is shining brightly through my curtains, hitting my face. I groan and turn myself around, hiding from the sting of light in my eyes. I really don’t want to wake up now. I’m still so tired, but that smell coming from the kitchen is too alluring to ignore, so within minutes I’m sitting up anyway, my eyes scanning the floor for my bathrobe.
I shuffle my way out to the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes as I go. I shortly try to comb my hair with my fingers into not looking like a bird nested on my head, but it’s futile. It’s a big pile of messy strands doing whatever hell they want and I give up on trying to tame them.
My jaw almost hits the floor the second I come through the door to the kitchen. Sam is standing at the stove in nothing but his boxers, flipping pancakes with ease. His hips are softly swaying to the low music playing from the radio and he’s humming to himself. He seems so relaxed and content standing there.
I hate how my heart skips a tiny beat over how perfectly domestic this view is, hate how easily my brain automatically tries to imagine this happening every day for the rest of my life.
No. Stop thinking about that so much!
“I didn’t realize I would get a performance this morning” I say a little too loudly. When Sam startles so much he nearly rips the pan onto the floor, I laugh and add, “I wish I had some one dollar bills in my purse" just to see the scarlet red blush creep down over his face and chest.
He rescues the pan before spinning around to face me. “Y/n! Oh my god, you scared me!” He drives both his hands through his hair and looks at the mess of cooking materials lying on the kitchen tables around him. “Eh… I was going to clean up before waking you" he says, looking down at his feet, "And get dressed.” I laugh at him when he unconsciously tries to cover himself with his hands.
“Go put on some clothes Casanova” I tell him as I snatch the spatula out of his hands, “I’ll look after your pancake.” I wave him off and he vanishes into the living room instantly. A few seconds later I can hear him messing around in there, probably trying to clean up the living room after sleeping there if I know him right. He’s back minutes later, ready to take over the spatula again.
“Well, I’m gonna go take a quick shower” I say before turning towards the door. He grabs my hand before I can start walking. When I look back at him he opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but he closes it quickly again.
“Out with it Winchester, I don’t have all day” I say.
“Listen, I… I’m sorry I keep coming over like this. I know I much seem like an ungrateful bastard for only seeing you when I’m in need of help, but…”
“What?” I ask. He lets out a sigh and lets go of my hand. I notice how his eyes travel over my face and the way he bites his bottom lip, like he's trying to keep himself from speaking.
I can’t stop myself from staring at his face too, at those gorgeous brown eyes and just imagine how it would feel to be in his arms, how it would feel to be his. How he would look in the morning, sleepy and with messy hair. If his lips would be warm or coldish when he kisses me on the cheek, whispering good morning in my ear.
Once that picture is firmly planted in my mind, the hundreds that usually follows storms me again. Pictures of me and him cuddling on my couch, watching movies that would get abandoned halfway through when we decide making out is more fun. How his arm would feel wrapped around my waist when we go out on dates and he keeps me close to show others that I’m his.
“I guess I just wanted to let you know that I really do appreciate your help. You are an amazing friend."
I can feel my heart shatter a little when he says “friend”. Because that’s all I am to him. A friend that he can flee to when he’s done with his one night stands.
While my head is spinning with darker and darker thoughts, my body takes over instantly, trying to hide the chaos going on inside. I laugh softly while shrugging, giving him a smile.
“Yeah, well maybe I should start charging you by the hour for staying over so much” I joke. I wonder if my laugh sounds as fake as it feels.
“Y/n…” He gets interrupted by my doorbell blaring from the hall. Both our heads snap up to look in the direction of the sound. We share a quick look before I walk off to answer the door. Who the hell is ringing my doorbell at this time on a Sunday morning?
Outside my door is a blonde haired woman. Her face is twisted in the largest, most creepy smile I have ever had the misfortune of seeing. She practically jumps when the door opens, pressing her hands together over her chest.
“HI!” she squeaks immediately before I can even open my mouth, “I’m Becky, Sam Winchesters girlfriend!” I swear it feels like my eyebrows vanish up into my hair that very second.
“Ehm, hey” I say slowly, “I didn’t know Sam had a girlfriend.”
“Oh, of course you wouldn’t, we just got together yesterday!” She laughs hysterically, like we’re sharing a huge joke. This chick seriously freaks me out.
“Well, congratulations I guess” I just say.
“THANK YOU!” she says and starts jumping a bit again, “He’s just SO DREAMY. So tall, dark, and handsome, full of mysteries. I just love him so much!”
“That’s good.” Should I call the cops or something? There is no way this girl didn’t escape from some facility somewhere.
“Sam was SO right, you really are super nice!” She nods excited and then giggles. When she just keeps staring at me I clear my throat and moves to lean against the door frame to the left, pulling the door closer to me. You know, just in case.
“So, did you want anything or…?” I ask. Her eyes transform into a true horror show, getting so large and round I swear I can see her eyeballs start to pop out a little. She moves forward and I squeeze the hand holding the door handle tightly around it, but I quickly realize she just wanted to press a piece of paper into my free hand.
“Yes! Would you give this to Sam when he gets home from work? It’s my number. I didn’t give him it yesterday. We were too busy making love, so I forgot.”
“Uh, sure.” I have no idea why she’s stupid enough to think that Sam is working on a Sunday, but I’m not about to say anything about that to her. I really don’t want her hanging around here longer than absolutely necessary.
“Okay, thanks! I have to go now because I’m super late for work, but have a nice day!” And she’s apparently have to work on a Sunday. I only wonder for a second where she works before I decide I don’t really care enough to ask.
“You too” I respond. She turns and starts running down the stairs in a truly inhuman speed. I expect her to trip and tumble all the way down, but miraculously she reaches the entrance door and I hear it slam shut a minute later.
I go back in and when the door is closed I lock it firmly and put the chain over it just to make sure no one is coming in. The last thing I want is to have her in my apartment.
Sam’s cheeks are as red as a tomato when I get back to the kitchen. I wave the paper in the air and sit down on one of the kitchen chairs.
“So, I met your new girlfriend” I say casually, leaning an arm on the table in front of me. “She seems super nice.” Sam groans loudly.
“I swear to God, she seemed perfectly normal and sane yesterday when I met her at the library and when we were about to go to sleep she turned into this maniac” he says.
“Well, love makes you crazy” I tease him, blinking my eyelashes at him quickly, “And she loves you sooo much Sam!” He rolls his eyes at me and turns to take the last pancake off the pan and turn off the stove.
“Can you just please burn that piece of paper?” he asks, “I am not calling her, ever.” He is stacking the pancakes on two plates and starts pouring marble syrup over them.
“Whatever you say big guy.” I rip the paper into tiny pieces, only feeling a little satisfied by doing it.
“So are you ever gonna serve those pancakes for me or do I have fight you for them?” I ask when the paper is no more.
“As tempting as a fight with you sounds, I would much rather share them with you and watch the new episode of Game of Thrones. I’ve been dying to know what happens next.”
“Yeah, if you weren’t Mr. Busy all the time, then maybe we would have known that days ago when the episode actually aired” I say, taking the plate he offers me.
“Even though it pains me to say,” he says, “My clients come before Game of Thrones.” I gasp over-dramatically, putting a hand over my heart.
“How dare you…” I whisper. He just rolls his eyes at me again before walking off towards the living room. I quickly follow him with a huge smile planted on my face. I really do love these mornings. Maybe that’s why I keep allowing him to hide in my apartment.
A week and a half later I text Sam, asking if he wants tacos or burgers for our Game of Thrones date next Sunday. Why they changed the air dates from Tuesday to Sunday will forever be a mystery to me (I’m too lazy to actually spend the time to find out why).
He texts back almost instantly.
I have to cancel. My brother is coming into town and wants to “teach me to have fun”, which is Dean language for getting drunk and laid. Rain check?
Ah, the notorious Dean Winchester. I heard a lot about him, but actually never met him. All I know is that him and Sam are very close and almost never sees each other because of Dean’s job. How anybody can be a “traveling mechanic” as Sam described it, I have no idea, but I’m not about to ruin one of the rare chances Sam has to be with his brother, no matter how disappointed I feel.
Sure. I’ll just set the machine to record it. Have fun!
So, what should I spend my Sunday doing?
I guess I just have to finish that jigsaw puzzle of a cat and a puppy cuddling that has been collecting dust for a month.
God I’m so pathetic.
Saturday night my doorbells rings again, this time at three in the morning. I rush out of bed, stomping my way down the hall chanting no no no no. When I rip the door open I shout NO! right in the face of who I assumed would be Sam.
It’s a stranger standing outside my door. Shit.
“Wow, easy sweetheart” he says.
“Who the hell are you and why are you ringing my doorbell at three AM?” I demand to know. I suddenly feel very conscious about not having grabbed my bathrobe before I answered the door. A tiny pairs of sleep shorts and a top is not enough covering when being faced with a stranger.
“I like her” the stranger says over his shoulder.
“I told you she would be pissed if we showed up this late!” Sam squeezes himself in front of the other man, stumbling a little before catching himself on the door frame, “I’m so sorry y/n, my brother is a jerk.”
“Shut up bitch” the other man, Dean I guess, says. He’s swaying a little too, grinning at me.
“That doesn’t explain what the hell you are doing here at this time of night!” I growl.
“Well, Samuel here has something very important to tell you” Dean says, stepping forward to hug the much taller Sam from behind. He claps Sam’s chest and Sam pushes him away almost instantly.
“It’s SAM” he says before turning back to me again, “I’m so so sorry, he insisted in coming here, I couldn’t stop him.”
“Goddamn right you couldn’t” Dean says, “I’m so goddamn tired of hearing you whine about this chick and never doing anything about it.” Dean steps forward again, pushing Sam out of the way before leaning in towards me, as if he is about to share a secret with me.
“My brother has had this huge crush on you since the first time you two met and he hasn’t stopped yapping about you since” Dean says, “But he keeps making excuses not to tell you because he thinks you don’t see him that way.” Dean winks at me before pulling back, dodging a slap from Sam.
“Shut up Dean!” Dean just laughs and runs of, escaping Sam’s attempts to hit him by slamming the door into his brother's apartment shut in his face.
Sam stands in front of his door for a while, leaning his forehead against the door while breathing deeply.
I’m mentally not there. Somewhere inside my head there are sirens going off. I'm almost certain I'm having a heart attack. The cramp I feel in my chest can't possibly be healthy.
Sam… has a crush… on me?
I have got to be dreaming. This is a dream. A cruel, cruel dream.
I quickly promise myself to call a therapist tomorrow. I seriously need help.
Sam turns around to face me again. He stands still for some time, his eyes flickering between the floor and my face while he rubs his hands together. When he finally opens his mouth, about to speak, panic rushes into my heart.
“No” I say quickly, “Don’t say anything.”
“But…” he starts.
“No” I repeat, “I can’t do this.” Sam lowers his head, nodding silently. It physically hurts me to see his face break like it does, like his heart just splintered into a million pieces.
“I can’t Sam” I try to explain, “I literally can’t risk losing you. And if you start talking, start telling me what I have wanted to hear for so unbelievably long, I won’t be able to say no.”
His head snaps up. “But that’s a good thing!” he says excited.
“No it’s not!” I declare, “It’s the worst thing that can happen, because that means I’ll be weak and I’ll be vulnerable.” I step a little closer to him, rubbing my arms that grows goose bumps in the cold air in the hallway. “I don’t want to end up as one of your girls” I say softly, “I don’t want to wake up after a night in paradise with you, just to find you gone. It would kill me to lose you like that. I will much rather have your friendship, than just one night with you.”
“But…”
“Please, don’t say anything” I beg, “Just… just go be with your brother and let’s forget about this. Please don’t make this any harder than it is.”
He stares at me for a while, before nodding and looking away. “Right. I’ll just… see you around, I guess.” He opens his door and vanishes through it, closing it behind him. I hear the lock click and suddenly the air feels much colder around me.
I hurry to return to my apartment, closing and locking the door myself. I practically run to my bed, diving straight under my blankets. I can already feel the tears coming, can feel how my throat locks up and my heart cramps in my chest.
This might be the stupidest and the smartest thing I have ever done in my entire life and it’s going to hurt so so much. Saying no to what I have wanted for so long was one of the hardest things I have ever done, and I have to constantly remind myself that what I want wasn’t what Sam could give me. He didn’t want me the same way. He didn’t want lazy Sunday nights on the couch snuggling together under a blanket, he didn’t want strolls down the street, looking at windows holding hands, he didn’t want to do the couple costume things on Halloween or exchanging silly, cheesy gifts on Valentine’s Day.
I can’t live with one night. Even if he wanted more, I can’t live with the constant fear I would have of suddenly finding him gone when he got bored of me, when he found that one flaw that convinced him I wasn’t good enough, just like he did with all the other girls.
My doorbell suddenly starts ringing again, quickly followed by harsh hard knocks. Tears start streaming down my face when I hear Dean shouting at me from outside the door, telling me to come out there right now to fix what I broke.
I roll over and press a pillow over my ears, trying to drown the sounds of his yelling with the sound of my sobs.
I hate myself. I hate myself so much.
I don’t leave my apartment for a week. I call in sick to work, saying that I will work on the next project from home. My boss just tells me to get well and asks me to send him a draft by the end of the week.
The draft doesn’t get done until the last second and I don’t even care that it’s utter crap, despite having always delivered spotless work every single time. I know the measurements for the structure is wrong, I know I haven’t put in a counter system for when the building gets blasted with high speed winds. I know that the amount of steel needed that I calculated for the project is nowhere near enough to finish it, but I simple do not care.
The entire week goes by with me hiding under a blanket on my couch, watching crappy sit-coms to occupy my mind so I don’t have time to think. I haven’t heard from Sam and I don’t really expect to. I’ll be lucky if he ever even wants to speak to me again.
For each day that passes I regret my decision more and more. This is torture and I willingly put myself through it to avoid pain in the future. I can’t stop thinking about that if I had said yes, if I had allowed him to talk, and had that one night with him, my pain would at least be meaningful. It would have a purpose.
Now I’m just hurting for no other reason than my own stupid attempt to save myself from heartache, and here I am, crying myself asleep like I had really been through a horrible breakup.
I’m so stupid.
I’m forced to go out on Friday. I have eaten my way through all my food reserves and I have to survive somehow. I can’t keep feeling sorry for myself, can’t keep hiding from the consequences of my poor decisions.
The second I leave my apartment, Sam’s door is ripped open and Dean steps out. He has murder painted all over his face and I seriously consider trying to escape back into my apartment. My hand is already reaching for the door handle but before it can reach it, Dean jumps forwards to grab onto it.
“Don’t even think about hiding again” he growls.
“Let go of my door!” I say. He lets go, but doesn’t move away. Instead, he takes a step forward and leans towards me so much that I feel the need to bend backwards to keep him out of my personal space.
“Do you have any idea of what you have done?” he asks, “Sam came back, telling me that you practically ripped his heart out, despite saying you have feelings for him too! What the hell is the logic behind that?”
“I was protecting myself!” I bark, pushing forward to get him away from me.
“From what?!” Dean exclaims, “Sammy never hurts anybody!” I laugh in disbelief.
“Is that what you believe? How about all the girls he drags home all the time? The girls he abandons in the middle of the night to come hide in my apartment? I am not risking ending up like one of them! I don’t want to end up as another name on his list of one night stands!”
“You are so stupid!” Dean declares, “Don’t you see how freaking head over heels he is for you?”
“No, I don’t! I never did!” I respond, “He only ever cared about me when he had to hide form his stupid hook ups or when he needed someone to watch Game of Thrones with because he got lonely. He never once asked me out, never once asked to just hang out. How am I supposed to suddenly just accept that he wants something more than just my ass for one night when two years of experience tells me differently?”
Dean blows a frustrated breath out through his nose. He looks towards Sam’s door, shaking his head before he rubs his hands through his hair groaning. “I can’t believe how stupid you two are” he says, “God, when Sam told me I was completely obvious about Cas, I never thought it was this stupid, but it sure as hell was.” He steps forward again, crowding me against the door frame.
“I’m gonna tell you something that I swore to never tell anybody” he says, “I’m breaking my promise to my brother by doing this, something I never ever do, but it needs to be said, so you better listen up cupcake.” His eyes burns against mine. I can practically taste the fire in the air coming from him, how hotly it burns in his chest. This is a man that really loves his brother.
“Sam lost his first girlfriend Jessica in a freak fire” Dean says, “The first and only girl he ever truly loved. She burned up in her bed, just like our mother did when he was six months old. See, it turned out that Jess had been drugged before some psycho burned their apartment down, apparently the same psycho that killed our mom.” Dean breathes in deeply and steps back. He suddenly can’t look at me.
“He was a total mess for years after that, got into some real dangerous shit. I had to pull him out of a serious drug abuse before he killed himself, and I forced him back to sanity again. It was the hardest damn thing I ever had to go through and I practically raised that kid, because our dad couldn’t get over our mom’s death.”
“So you wanna know why he always ditches those chicks?” Dean asks, looking back at me. The fire starts burning hotter in his eyes. “It’s because he is too goddamn scared to ever love someone as he loved Jess. He constantly fears losing someone else. But then he met you, and he suddenly stopped being so careful. He started living again, started laughing. I could hear how fucking happy he was every time he talked about you. Somehow to wormed your way past all his defenses and squeezed yourself into his heart, planted yourself so deeply that he didn’t know how to handle it. He was too scared to ever say something, because he feared this exact thing would happen.” Dean laughs bitterly, shaking his head again.
“Well, I was so sure that you were something special. All those things he told me about you convinced me you cared about him too” he says, “And now I’m the reason my baby brother is broken again.” He looks over at me again.
“I don’t care how you feel or what you think about him” he says, “Sam is the kindest person on Earth and he really cares a lot about you. If you really care about him too, you talk this shit through with him, make sure he doesn’t destroy himself because of it.”
He leans towards me again. “And I swear to God, if you break my brother, I’ll break your neck." He lets his threat hang in the air between us a bit and when I unconsciously swallows, he pulls back to point a finger at me. "Fix this. If you don’t wanna be with him, so be it. But then you lose his number and you get the hell out of his life, because he deserves better than this.” Dean walks off without saying anything else and he slams the door behind him, leaving me standing paralyzed in front of my door.
I feel like I just got gutted.
I never knew that. I hadn’t even thought about the possibility that there was a reason for Sam’s behavior. Oh my god, I’m an awful human being. All that time spent dreaming about something I thought was never a possibility, all that time spent trying to milk every opportunity to get more time with Sam and I never even thought to ask him about his life. I never tried to get to know him better.
Oh no. Dean was right. I am fucking stupid.
I have to fix this. Fast.
Fuck, my hands are so sweaty. Why can’t I stop sweating? Why is my heart trying to escape my ribcage through my mouth? This shouldn’t be so hard!
Okay, get your head in the game. You have to do this. If it fails, then at least you tried.
I knock on the door three times fast before I can talk myself out of it. I have spent three days thinking and thinking and thinking about what Dean told me, and what I should do. Basically, I spent three days getting my thoughts and feelings sorted. I can so do this. I’m collected, I’ve thought this through.
Why the hell am I this nervous? I got this.
The door opens and Sam is suddenly standing there in front of me. He’s wearing sweatpants and his hair is a mess. He has huge dark circles under his eyes and he looks like he’s practically half dead.
I so do not have this. Shit.
“Eh, hi” I say carefully.
“Hey” Sam responds. God, his voice is wrecked. It sounds like he has spent the last two weeks yelling. Or crying...
“So, eh… I wanted to talk to you. You got time?” He looks behind him quickly before he steps back and nods to me, inviting me inside. I quickly move past him, but waits for him to close the door and lead me into his living room.
It’s completely wrecked too. It looks like he has been doing exactly what I have been doing for the last two weeks. Hiding under blankets on the couch, eating crappy food.
“What do you want to talk about?” he asks me.
“I think you know exactly what” I answer. He sighs and walks over to the couch. He starts folding the blankets, keeping his eyes off me.
“I thought we wasn’t going to talk about it” he says, “You made that pretty clear.”
“Yeah, well, I changed my mind.”
“Is that so? What if I have changed my mind too?” he asks, finally turning his eyes towards me again. That’s defiance showing in his face. The clenched jaw and narrow eyes tells me as much.
“Then I at least need to explain why I said what I did” I answer. He spends a few seconds just staring at me before sighing again.
“Fine.” He sits down on the couch. “Just get it over with.”
I shuffle around a little, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. This is not going as I had expected.
“I’ve always cared about you” I start carefully, trying to remember the speech I wrote in my head for this. Funnily enough it’s gone the second I open my mouth to speak. “You pissed me off so much by always coming over so late, but spending time with you quickly became my favorite thing during the week. You made me happy, and I felt good. I’ve always been a little insecure, not very good with people. I always tried to avoid social contact as much as possible. That’s why I love my job so much. I can work from home if I don’t feel like going in. But being with you was so easy. It felt like I could finally breathe again after having been under water my entire life.”
I smooth out my dress, trying to collect my thoughts before continuing. Sam’s eyes are focused intensely on my lips and I can feel them burn at the attention.
“It didn’t take long for me to fall for you, and I fell so hard” I finally admit, “I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve imagined us together. And it hurt so much, because I always thought that you were just a player, that you weren’t looking for anything serious. I thought that the dreams I had of a future with you were exactly that. Dreams. I was so scared of losing you that I accepted that I would forever be your friend and I was okay with that. At least I got you in some way.” I carefully move over to sit in the armchair next to the couch where he is sitting.
“I got so scared that night Sam” I tell him, “Because I could see all my dreams be crushed the instant Dean told me that you had a crush on me. I thought that you only liked be for who I was on the outside. I never even tried to imagine anything else. I was so sure that you could never want me for anything more than a quick hook up.”
“I spent a week trying to convince myself that I made the right decision saying by no immediately. I told myself that I would rather spend my life being close to the birds, than wasting it wishing I had wings too.” I laugh a little to myself. “I read that somewhere. I can’t remember where, but it just fitted so well to the situation. But despite telling myself that over and over again, I quickly realized that that was what I had been doing anyway. Wishing I had wings so I could fly with you.”
“Y/n…”
“No, please… Sam, please let me finish” I beg, “This is so hard for me.” He nods silently. I take a deep breath.
“Then Dean told me about Jess” I say, watching his expression turn from sad to absolutely horrified. I quickly grab his hand, squeezing it between mine when he pulls back. God, his skin is so cold.
“It’s okay. I understand now. I know that I’m the stupid one. I never asked you anything, I never tried to get to know you. I just made assumptions about you without really trying to learn the truth. I was over-confident, thinking that I couldn’t be wrong. That I knew you. Turns out I don’t know you at all, and that’s my fault. You have always been so sweet, always asking how I am and always caring for me. I never returned the favor and then I made a decision, based on false facts. On assumptions. And I can’t even begin to explain how crappy I feel about that.”
My eyes lingers on our hands. Sam is holding on to my hand so tightly, like he’s afraid I might let go. He’s practically clinging to me. I hurts my heart so much that I am the one that has made him this nervous, this vulnerable.
“I’m sorry for that” I say, raising my eyes to look into his so he can see how much I mean it, “I am so sorry for judging you without even thinking about the reasons behind your actions. I am a horrible friend and an even worse person.”
“No” he quickly says, squeezing my hands harder, “No you’re not. You are so perfect, so kind and caring and smart and funny. It’s my fault, I was too scared. I should have shared more about myself, have trusted you enough to do so. But I was cowardly…” He turns his head away again, hiding the wetness in his eyes.
“I was scared of being hurt again, so scared I messed up the change of being truly happy.”
“You didn’t mess up Sam” I tell him, pulling a little on his hands so he will look at me again, “You have a very good reason for acting like you did. Don’t ever feel like protecting yourself is a bad thing. That is so brave of you. Taking care of oneself is one of the hardest things to do and I’m so happy that you did. I don’t want you to be hurt and I’m so sorry I did hurt you.”
“It’s okay” he mumbles, “I never really thought you’d say you felt the same way. Besides, it was Dean’s idea.”
“Well, I guess your brother is a very smart man” I say, “And he loves you so very much. So much that he told me he would break my neck if I didn’t make sure you were okay.” That makes Sam laugh softly to himself.
“You know what, that doesn’t even surprise me” he says, “Dean has always been a little over-protective of me.”
“For a good reason” I say. Sam nods in agreement, turning somber again.
“What does all this mean?” he asks, “Why are you telling me this?” I shrug lightly.
“Because I thought you needed to hear it and because I needed to say it” I answer, “I didn’t say no because I didn’t want to be with you. I said no because I wanted you so much I was afraid of losing you too quickly.”
“Well aren’t we a pair” he snorts. It’s my turn to laugh. When my laugher dies out, which it does rather quickly, we end up staring at each other for a while.
I get this sudden urge while watching the wetness in his eyes turn into a tear that rolls down his cheek. It gets rubbed away quickly, but it starts something inside me. It’s this warm dominating feeling that starts burning in my belly. I never ever want to see another tear roll down his cheek again like that. I never want to see him this broken again. I want to gather him up in my arms and hold him close and kiss all his tears away until he feels better.
I’m moving closer without even realizing it. It’s first when I’m so close to his face that I can feel his warm breath hitting my lips that I realize what I’m doing, and by then it’s too late. I have to finish this or I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.
One of my hands reach up to caress his cheek. When he leans against it, I grow bold enough to run my fingers through his hair. It’s so soft, despite being a tangled mess. I always dreamed of doing this and now that it’s really happening the feelings in my chest is so much more magnified than I thought they would be. It feels so much better, like the sun’s warm rays are hitting my heart, warming it up.
“Tell me to stop” I whisper when my lips are only a hair’s length from his.
“Never” he breathes back. His eyelids are already dropping and I just can’t stop myself anymore.
When our lips meet it’s far from the perfect fairytale kiss I had imagined. His lips are cool and chapped, clearly suffering after a long time being sad, but they feel perfect against mine anyway. He’s so careful with me, so scared that he barely moves. It hurts so much that I have made him this scared, that I hurt him so much that he fears messing up a simple kiss so much that he doesn’t even try.
I gently push him back, kissing him harder. He moves fluently, leaning back on the couch so I can slip into his lap and wrap my arms around his neck. Our bodies mold together and he finally comes to life, like he snaps out of his fear.
His arms wrap around me, holding me tightly against him and it feels so amazing, so right to finally be in his embrace like this. He holds me like I’m the most precious thing in the world and in that second I just know I have nothing to fear.
He will never let me go, I can feel that. And in that moment, I decide I never want to feel another’s lips against mine again.
BONUS ENDING JUST BECAUSE I COULDN'T STOP WRITING
One month later
It’s Sunday morning, the sun is shining through the curtains and a mild breeze travels in through the open window. I’m awake, but keep my eyes closed, savoring the moment. I can feel Sam’s body pressed close to mine, feel his heartbeat against my back, and his soft breaths against my neck.
The last month has been like a constant dream. It has truly been paradise. I’ve already experienced so much, had so many of my dreams come true and turn out way better than I was ever able to imagine.
I smile remembering the date we went on last night. The candle lit dinner in the corner of a small restaurant, followed by the walk through the carnival that’s in the city right now. I can still feel the kiss we shared in the Ferris wheel on my lips and taste the sweet candy floss that he ate earlier last night on his lips.
Deciding to talk to him was the best thing I ever did. It has been hard and we have spent many nights just talking and listening to each other, getting to know each other. I feel so much more for him now that I ever thought I could and I know that it’s nothing compared to what I will feel in the future.
I feel Sam move, waking up. His lips form a smile that he presses against my neck. He moves to leave a small kiss on my shoulder and I quickly twist around to catch his lips in a real kiss. He gathers me up in his arms and holds me close and I fall into my new favorite place against his chest, feeling warm and content and happier than ever before.
“God I love waking up next to you” he whispers to me when our lips part. I smile and lean in to kiss him again, but I get interrupted by his doorbell ringing. Instead of kissing him, I groan and lean my forehead against his, making him laugh softly.
“God have mercy on whoever is out there” I say before rolling out of bed, “You stay right there. I’m not done with you yet.”
“Yes ma’am” he sings. I roll my eyes at him before going out to answer the door.
It’s Becky, the crazy blonde.
“What are you doing in Sam’s apartment?” she asks the second she recognizes me. Her eyes scans my body, and clings to the shirt I picked up from the floor to cover myself in. It’s once of Sam’s flannels. He has a thing for flannels apparently.
“Well, I slept here. What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Sam never called me back and it has been over a month now!” she says. I can almost see the steam coming out of her ears as she stubbornly stamps on the ground.
“Why would he call you back?” I ask, pretending to be stupid.
“Because I’m his girlfriend!” she says.
“I’m his girlfriend” I say, “You are just some tramp that freaked him the hell out.” I step out into the hall, putting my face right in hers. “I will suggest that you never ever show up here again. If I ever see or hear about you being within 200 feet of him, I will personally have you admitted to the nearest insane asylum. You got that? Just because a guy sleeps with you, doesn’t mean he’s your boyfriend and stalking is very much illegal and is punishable by up to five years in prison, twenty to lifetime if bodily harm comes to him. So you better stay the hell away or I will get you locked up so fast that you wouldn’t even know what happened.” I pull back again, smiling sweetly to her.
“Trust me cupcake. My boyfriend is a lawyer and I will own your ass if you as much as blink in his direction.” Becky’s eyes are as round a tea cups and gets impossible bigger when Sam suddenly appears behind me. She doesn’t even say anything before she runs off down the stairs. When the front door in the entrance slams shut I nod satisfied to myself and turn around to give Sam a smile.
“I love when you get all lawyer-y” he says before he pulls me into a heated kiss.
Yep, definitely the best decision ever.
FIN.