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Sam walked into her apartment feeling tired. Tense shoulders, heavy breathing, worn-out face. The hunt had been brutal. He really could use some days of rest and normalcy.
He walked by the living room, the familiar furniture - the thrifted coffee table, the green couch - made his way through the tiny hallway and walked into the bedroom quietly. It was late.
You were awake, though. Beaten sleep shirt on, the comforting yellow lamp shining on the pages of the book you held, reading calmy. Sam couldn’t help but smile, some of the weight he walked in carrying already dissipating.
Your whole face lights up when you notice his presence, cheeks stretching to make room for a big smile."Oh my God, you're here," your features soften.
"Yeah.”
He walks closer and you pull him to the comfortable bed, taking his face in your hands and kissing his eyelids, his pretty nose, his chin, the corners of his mouth and his moles before getting to his lips. He giggles and blushes a little at the tenderness he's not fully used to yet, in that sweet bashful way he does when he’s a tiny bit flustered.
"Baby," he mumbles, voice rich and warm. You're unable to do anything but kiss him senseless when he talks like that. Actually, when he talks, period.
"I'm so happy you're here. So so so happy'" you pant against his lips, a stupid smile on your face. Sam smiles back. You look positively giddy, eyes going all lovesick.
"What were you reading?" he asks. You show him the cover. "Interesting," he muses. "Are you enjoying it?"
You nod, tell him more about the book and make sure he gets nice and comfortable in bed. He talks about the ride here, doesn't say much about the hunt and gets out of the uncomfortable clothes by maneuvering around the bed. He cuddles closer to you, mouths at your cheek as you talk.
"I love your voice so much," he breathes out. You melt, his warmth hitting your face so gently. "Read to me, please?"
You nod, smiling, picking up the book and going back to the first page. “This book demanded a greater liberty that I was afraid to give. It is far above me. Humbly I tried to write it. I am stronger than I.” You read aloud.
Sam falls asleep quickly, but there's a smile on his lips, and he feels nice and safe, which is all he could ask ever for.
The next morning when you rise from slumber Sam's already up. The little apartment smells like pancakes and herbal tea. Sam's not in bed, but as you follow the smell you find him in the kitchen. There's a plate of strawberry pancakes on the table with two steaming mugs of tea. You hug him from behind and he smiles.
"Good morning," he chuckles. You answer with a muffled 'morning' against the soft fabric of his t-shirt and giggle. He turns around to face you, giving you a few sweet pecks.
"Thank you for making us this," you say, gesturing to the table. Sam smiles. You don't ask why he made it, knowing sometimes he just needs this. The food is yummy and you eat calmly. “It’s so nice outside” you note. It's a warm morning and the sun's pouring through the living room windows. “The birds are chirping so loudly. We should go on a walk.”
“We should,” he agrees. You and Sam get ready after doing the dishes. The fresh air does wonders for both of you as you walk through the little forest nearby, surrounded by birdsong and gentle breeze, your palm perfectly warm because he’s holding it. You spot pretty birds, blooming flowers and Sam laughs when you try to befriend a squirrel.
The apartment is quiet when you walk back in, picking a record from your coffee table and putting it on for some atmosphere, something you both enjoy.
You sit quietly on the cozy green couch and Sam sits beside you, each to their own. Sam's been enjoying reading The Paris Review’s interviews lately when he spends time at your place and goes through some of the editions that you own. He also likes doing crosswords. It's soothing and you watch him happily, glad he's indulging himself more. You write a few pages in your journal, read some bits and pieces of what he's reading from over his shoulders and fall back to sleep on his lap. He never smiled bigger.
It doesn't last forever, but forever is a feeling, and this certainly feels like it. If it looks anything like what he has right now, it is worth it. And when you wake up, greeted with little kisses pressed to your forehead and Sam’s perfect face looking at you from above, his hair falling in your face, you think it’s all worth it too, and maybe your life holds more light than you ever thought it did. You bite his nose playfully and he shrieks.
Rain begins falling a few hours later and it couldn’t be more perfect. You and Sam dance around ‘til you’re dizzy and laughing at the silliness of it all, wearing comfy hoodies and mismatched fluffy socks. He kisses you nice and deep, lights a few scented candles and helps you take care of the little plants you own, being a throughoutly dedicated gardener.
“Love you so much,” he whispers, hugging you from behind, deep voice speaking right in your ear, making you shiver. “Feel human with you”
You melt against him, head falling against his shoulder. He isn’t done speaking, though. “My solitude is yours.” You smile at his little nudge at the book you read yesterday. At the quote about love being about giving your own solitude to another. Nerdy boy.
You give yourself to him willingly after that, practically throwing yourself at him to shower his mind and body in love. The rain pours outside and the green couch creaks as Sam reminds you over and over of the meaning behind bliss, kissing the salty tears of care and pleasure out of your face. It’s the loving, the passion and the falling asleep, tangled and happy, as it ends in waves of heat and giggles, kissing his lips in between smiling like silly, softening and melting into each other.