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It was a little past midnight when you got a knock at the door. You were busy brewing a kettle of black tea when you turned away from it to glance over your shoulder in the direction of the sound.
You could only assume that it was Sam, but you couldn't be too sure.
Ever since the assault, you'd been on edge. You didn't want to be this way. You hated being afraid of everything, afraid of everybody. But you especially hated being so spiteful towards the one man who had been there for you.
You gulped, wiped your sweaty hands on the front of your long skirt, and took a moment to breathe.
Another knock sounded at the door, and you couldn't help jumping. Biting the inside of your cheek.
"It's jus' me, (y/n)," Sam's sudden cool and collected voice brought with it a sense of comfort that nearly sent you to your knees right then and there.
"C-coming!" You uttered timidly, really wishing it didn't come out so meek and broken, as you hurried to meet him at the door.
You knew you looked a mess. How else did you really expect to look if you hadn't slept properly in days?
Ignoring your disheveled reflection when passing the mirror upon the wall, you unlocked the door, and slowly pulled it open. The hallway was dark, but the small light upon the wall beside the door lit Sam up beautifully.
You watched carefully, the plume of smoke from his cigarette, creep in to your apartment through the small opening of the door.
The cig was rank, but the cologne he wore usually overpowered any other surrounding smells.
You yourself weren't a smoker and Sam knew that.
"You gonna invite me in, doll?" The stylishly dressed man quipped, lifting a furry brow and casually ashing his cigarette outside the threshold of the door, scratching his jaw as he looked down at you.
You gave him a frown and pulled the door open the rest of the way, but immediately ripped the cig from his hand the second he stepped forward.
"No smoking in my apartment!" You couldn't control the volume or the inflection of your voice, but Sam just casually walked by without a care.
Maybe he was always prepared to get his head chewed off when he was with you, especially now. After the assault, you'd changed. And Sam was no fool. He noticed, and maybe that was why he never liked getting into any kind of argument or fight with you.
He could never know what you were feeling, but he could listen and be there for you. And the latter was what he always tried to do.
"Listen doll, I ain't here ta' fight wit' you, okay?" He began to pull away his jacket from his shoulders.
You kept the frown you shown him just moments before and boldly stepped up to him to give him a shove.
For a shorter woman, you packed a lot of heat.
"You weren't there to stop them! Instead, you were out gallivanting with that other woman!" You barked, noticing Sam's deep frown, but you were right.
He grabbed your wrists, but you struggled against him. You always did.
"Why do ya' gotta remind me every god damn time we're together, huh?" Sam snapped right back at you, gripping your wrists tighter until you winced.
The cold nighttime air from outside had snuck into the small apartment from the opened window, which, for a short time, managed to keep away the heat between you and Sam.
Your (e/c) eyes twinkled with tears, but they didn't faze the hardened, cold-hearted mobster.
He cared about you more than you'd ever know, but he couldn't stand the person you had become. It awoke too many emotions inside of him with which he wasn't familiar.
"I...I..." You didn't know if you could even speak again, and you could see, in Sam's eyes, everything that you were afraid of, but those things were everything that you admired. Respected.
"Stop doin' this to me, (y/n)!" He growled and let go of your wrists with a shove.
You crinkled your nose and forehead, feeling a tear bleed from your eye. Sam gaffawed, and turned to leave, but you found yourself latching onto his overcoat. Immediately stopping him.
"Don't...don't leave, please Sam!" You cried, and he turned to face you, letting you fall into his opened arms.
He wanted to leave and you knew that he did, but he stayed like he always did.
The bond you shared with Sam Trapani was strange, but you mostly felt safe with him. He just had a way about him that sucked you in, even when you wanted to punch his pretty face or kick him straight between the legs.
You'd never though.
Trapani was a powerful man. He'd take you down. Threaten you and make you sob like he had many times before.
"Ya' usin' me too much, doll." Sam said coldly, petting the back of your head, silently appreciating the softness of your (h/c) hair.
You breathed in his cologne, snuggling closer into the warmth of his body. Tightening your arms around him. Twiddling your fingers together with a salted little smile. He kept his hand on your back and pressed down. Drawing you close to him.
You knew he wanted the closeness. You knew that he craved it, and with you, Sam didn't feel overly afraid to express himself in his little subtle ways.
"You didn't have to come over." You uttered softly, sniffling and wiping your teary eyes on his suit jacket.
"Hm." Sam grumbled and continued to hold you. Cradling the back of your head in one of his hands.
You couldn't help smiling, knowing that you had Trapani under your thumb.