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A long smile spread upon Lara's face as her hand pressed to a door. The creak of old hinges in dire need of oiling rang in her ears and down the hall to a figure with its back turned to her.
''Hey, come 'ere!''
Fast-approaching steps, Lara's heart skipped beats.
Sam peered past the corner. First her eyes, jet-black locks bouncing with the pop-up her head did beyond a wall. ''Did you find anything?''
The old Croft mansion was now little more than a picture-perfect display for a house sale. What wasn't a studio was dedicated for a collection, or Zip's technology, or records and plans, or weapons that Lara could use, or now sat devoid of any character and furniture. Her parents' bedroom had gone untouched for nearly two decades, as had hers. The Alexandria workers had left some two and a half hours ago, Zip's taxi took him to the airport an hour ago, and half an hour ago, Jonah and Abby had bid their friends good night and drove off to their married home. Only her and Sam remained, pacing around half-heartedly with the hopes of finding a room Sam could spend the night in.
Lara studied the fifth room out of seven available she had looked into. A bed rested against the furthermost wall, a simple headboard to adorn of smooth, dark wood with cushioning, and a nightstand for function, plus two pillows. A white sheet cloaked it, tucked into the four corners and not a single crease visible on the surface. It stood out like an eyesore in contrast to the marble floors and long halls once decorated with marvelous paintings of her father, of a her that she couldn't always recognize; a young Lara, full of hope and life and innocence. The spotless flooring reflected her face back at her, sharp and less full, rarely a hint of softness to herself remained.
''What're you standing there for?''
Sam walked up to her side and elbowed her arm, not harsh but playful. Just enough to get her sobering thoughts to halt.
Her friend did a half spin and whistled, staring at the high ceilings and the moonbeams that slipped past the curtains. ''Have you ever slept here?''
''No, this was for guests,'' Lara said, her steps slowing down behind Sam's. ''Might have snuck in here once or twice in a treasure hunt.''
''Lara Croft, never the still kid.'' Sam's chuckle decorated the room with a serenity unmatched.
The adventurer sighed out a smile, head tilted to a side.
''Still,'' Sam added, ''can't believe it is possible to see a livable room in here.''
Lara scoffed, arms crossed over her chest. ''What? Do you think I sleep on the sidewalk?''
''No, but your couch has a dent in it.''
Lara's cheeks bursted with reds. Her mouth opened, then shut, then opened halfway with a grumble.
She watched Sam press down on the bed. ''Huh! I thought there'd be dust.''
''You can thank Zip for the fact there isn't,'' Lara hummed and sat beside her friend, but she did not lie down, eyes glued on the unlit flush-mount fixture. ''He made me hire a cleaning crew after the uh, Deveraux deal.''
''Matter of time before a new species of mold grew in here. Wait, who's Deveraux?''
''I'll tell you about it some other time. Just know, a real pain in the arse.''
The halls of the mansion and of Lara's chest echoed the snort-giggle she got out of Sam. Her, plopped onto the bed, arms spread and legs dangling over the edge. She leaned back up only to untie her boots and kick them far off. One landed perfectly on the sole, and the other tilted over to the right, then laid back down using not one of the pillows to rest her head, but an arm instead.
Not everything changes, huh?
If Lara tried, she could picture her so clearly in their old UCL hoodie and one of Lara's jogging shorts that she had borrowed. When? She'd never know nor did she mind either. Huddled together on a laundry room's floor, their bags for seats, watching clothes spin as they talked… whatever. Lara can't quite recall most topics, not truly, but she does recall the gleam on Sam's face when she asked Lara— or rather, begged her—to look at her most recent picture collection. The buildings and architecture throughout London were some of Lara's favorites, but Sam's were always the people. The candids, the street performers, the vendors, the models, the everyday crowds, and, though rare, the ones she'd take of Lara herself. Her stomach twisted on itself whenever the camera faced her way. Not because Sam couldn't capture her, no. For once, someone could, and every centimeter of Lara's body trembled at the prospect that someone would catch a glimpse of everything she tried to hide.
''I should get you a blanket.''
The sound of her rushed steps struggled to catch up with Lara. Pulling open a nearby closet to find a stack of blankets, unaware that Sam was following her around the room with a stare and leaning in to hear the whispers mumbled through gritted teeth.
''Too bristly.''
''Too light!''
''Why do we even have this?''
Her ears picked up a giggle, bubbling few steps away from her.
Lara peered over her shoulder, then back at the blankets. ''What?''
''No, nothing, it's just—''
Gentle hands balled into fists as Sam's smile wavered, pressed inwards.
''I missed you.''
Lara whipped her head so fast that the braid she refused to go on a day without slapped the side of her neck.
She had looked into those winter-brown eyes hundreds of times before, but never had Lara seen them soften and darken beneath black lashes quite like now, and each lash was a jagged tooth that sunk itself around the borders of Lara's heart.
Tears dropped and stained maroon pants, darker where they hit. Her held-in sobs drowned in the vastness of the empty home, while Lara trembled as she shifted closer. The world no longer crumbled around them at the behest of a power-hungry maniac, but it might as well had. Six years gone past and she knew she wasn't one bit ready for the conversation that so desperately unraveled in her hands. She'd never be, but that'd not stop it now.
''You— You did?'' Lara muttered, each word strained as she spoke.
Her fingertips itched to wipe Sam's cheeks.
Sam's breath hitched, tender brown eyes meeting hers. ''Of course I did! Do you think I really wanted you gone?'' Her voice rasped against her throat, knives swallowed down with every word.
''I… Yes.'' Lara's bottom lip quivered, as one of her hands slid over to grasp, and squeeze, Sam's knees, palm running over the tear stains. ''Why wouldn't you want to? After all you'd gone through, after I… ran, how could you want to see me again?''
''Because it's you.''
Dark lashes shut closed.
Sam's chest rose and fell with a sigh, her face turned from Lara.
She hated herself, this much Lara knew.
But she knew she'd hate herself more if she didn't act now.
The adventurer's well-defined arms curled around her friend's waist, and pulled her into her chest.
A tremulous exhale tickled the back of Sam's nape, as Lara nestled her face in between a neck and a shoulder. Her fingers curled around Sam's arms, and what noise came out of Lara did so like a crystal glass dangling on the edge of a table. Tight, tighter, keep her closer and maybe then she wouldn't disappear. Maybe she'd not see how the corners of Lara's eyes burned.
''Lara?''
''I should've called you.''
It slipped out of Lara's lips like a confession.
Hot breaths panted against her back then her chest, as ever so slowly Sam shifted to face Lara.
''I knew there was a chance you'd cut me off again for good.'' Tears spilled down Lara's cheeks, nose scrunched up as the corners of her mouth tightened. ''That if I called you, you'd tell me to lose your number, to never try again. I thought if I left, you might finally be safe…!— Perhaps, if I looked away I'd never truly lose you, whether you hated me or stopped caring, but then you were kidnapped.''
Lara's posture and poise cracked at the edges. What might, ego and authority she managed to carry herself with tore itself apart amidst drowned sobs. Fleeting heartbeat against her own chest, on the hollow side; Sam's, whose arms wrapped around the broad of her back as Lara clung to her friend's shirt, swallowed her whole in a hug until, under poor light, their silhouettes were one. She could smell Sam's shampoo, and feel her warmth exuding from her body, her chest rising and falling in steadying motions like a ship out in the ocean, rocked by waves; her much quieter weeping, and how her head leaned into Lara's.
''I could never hate you. I was—''
''Pissed off?''
''Yeah,'' Sam laughed softly, the vibration of it coursing from the top of Lara's head to the nails of her toes. ''But that never meant I wanted you to go away, sweetie.''
Lara took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.
Arms trembled as she pushed herself off, her hair tickling Sam's cheek as she moved on top. ''You called me sweetie.''
Sam's eyes darted down, then back up. ''I thought you didn't mind it.''
''I didn't— I don't! It's just, you haven't called me that in a really long time.''
Lara's gaze traveled slowly down the corner of Sam's jaw, locked onto her chin, then five centimeters higher.
Bordering her mouth, Lara's throat ran dry. ''Sam,'' her name like a melody, whispered. ''I want to stay.''
Her friend's hand balled into a fist, tugged at the seams of Lara's shirt.
Chest a-pounding, deafening her. Lara's hand pressed down besides Sam's head, their breaths mingling in the space between their mouths. Sam, who she always tugged along on whatever new adventure Lara whipped up. Sam, tackling her onto the bed of their shared dorm room, Sam making her try on new clothes, and visit parts of London she found herself missing more and more every day. Sam, the only one whom she'd let hold her hand, or hug her for a second longer, or sleep beside when the nights were too quiet and nostalgia hit harder.
Sam, whom she rescued in Yamatai, and whose life rescued Lara's existence.
Whose screams haunted her every dream and whose smile teased her every waking moment.
Sam, who had never looked more beautiful than in that moment, under her. Her jet-black locks of hair splayed around like a void-halo, and her cheeks colored a most lovely shade of pink.
And, her mouth.
God, her mouth.
Lara brushed her lips against Sam's. Feathery, at first, half-lidded. A pull away as Sam's mouth parted agape, sneaking to hold her back of her neck and pull her in with a crash. The air rushed out of her lungs and into Sam's; her tongue slid into Lara's mouth, begging for permission that the adventurer granted with a heavy sigh.
She cradled her like she had never cradled any treasure from a tomb. She cradled Sam as if letting away from her would be met with certain death. As if she tried to hug lightning with her bare hands.
''Sam…'' Lara hushed against her mouth. ''I missed you too…''
Her friend could only reply with a hummed moan, sought her mouth with a ravenous hunger like nothing Lara had ever experienced before. If she could crawl under Sam's ribs and remain there forever, she would. In half a breath, in a quarter of a thought, she'd let the woman devour her whole, tear her flesh with her pearly teeth and pry open all the fears and inhibitions the adventurer had bottled for a decade. Tender, as Lara tilted her head back and let Sam's lips trail down her jugular. A ten-kisses-long path.
''You did?'' asked Sam.
''You've no idea how much…''
A shiver rushed down her spine while warmth trickled up to her face. Sam's lips were joined by her tongue, and her canines, nibbling and suckling wherever she found an unmarked spot.
''Sam, hah…''
Knuckles whitened, fistfuls of soft, black hair in Lara's grasp.
A touch slithered under her shirt, skimming on the edge of her pants' waist. Her heart jumped from her chest to her throat, into her ears, an index curled around a belt loop pulled down. Lara lowered her hips until they pressed against Sam's and those legs locked around her waist. Any closer and they'd merge, the thought making sweat trickle down her sides and warmth spread from her stomach.
''What's the matter, Lady Croft? Scared of a little cuddle?''
Long and hearty was the groan that left Lara's lungs. A bell-chime giggle tickled her ear and caresses in circles over her upper back, while her legs positioned her between Sam's and pushed her deeper into the mattress. ''You'll be the death of me.''
''Says the one who finally took the dignity to kiss me.''
Silence reigned for several, long seconds. Seconds in which Sam undid the braid of Lara's hair and let it fall loose.
Lara bit her bottom lip. ''Was it… okay?''
''Hm?''
''The kiss,'' Lara asked again, face burrowed in a clavicle. ''Was it okay?''
Sam's eyebrows shot high into her forehead, then lowered. The crease of her brow softened into itself, cheeks pushed up to her eyes. ''A little disappointed it's only one.''
Heaves and whimpers. Sam rolled on top and kissed her, seconds blending into minutes, into the endlessness of that night. Her shirt remained on for a few moments but not for long, as Sam made sure to strip her off it and trace the dozens of scars on Lara's torso, ghost-like in her fragility, pausing over the most recent; on the thick of her left biceps, the first night Mila struck. Lara's breath hitched, and Sam sat over her lap did not aid.
''It's deep.''
Lara glanced over at it, then back at Sam. ''Only itches now.''
''The worst part of scarring.''
''Hm, yes.'' Lara reached up and tucked a strand of black hair behind the round curve of an ear. ''But it's healing,'' she said in a bated breath and held Sam's hand in her own, and pressed a tremulous kiss to the back of Sam's palm.
Her… friend?
Did that word even fit anymore?
Her best friend.
Her north, her path she'd gladly travel a thousand times forth and a thousand times back. Her ocean to drown under, her sun to whisk away the sorrows.
Her… love.
''Lara? Is everything okay?''
The adventurer's hand slid over her love's waist, on the curves of her sides, where it rose and where it sank, and pulled herself against Sam's body. ''It is now.''