A/N: So, for all of you reading my other fic "iHate Everything About You", I am going to finish it, don't worry! I just had this idea in my head, and I really needed to do something with it. Anyway, this is just a one-shot depicting Freddie's view of his and Sam's relationship from pre-school to old age. I've rated it M because it does get a little bit graphic in the middle; however, that's the only instance of M-worthy material (for lack of a better term haha). Anyway, I've talked enough. Hope you enjoy, and please tell me what you think!
Disclaimer: Don't own iCarly.
Pretty.
That's what I thought on the first day of pre-school when I laid eyes on Samantha Puckett. I remember she was skinny with blonde hair and blue eyes. I also remember thinking she was the prettiest girl in the whole class. Naturally, when a boy that age thinks a girl is pretty, he's a complete douche to her. I was no exception. I tried just about everything in the books to get attention from her: name-calling, pulling her hair, pushing her down on the playground…but it seemed that everything I did, she'd fight back twice as hard. Despite all of this, I was determined not to back down. As long as I had some sort of attention from her, I was happy. Then, one fateful day on the playground, she finally spoke to me.
"I like you."
It was natural that these would be her first words to me. Sam was always one to cut straight to the point. I remember smiling brightly.
"I like you too."
"Good. That means you're my boyfriend," she answered simply. I was only too eager to comply. We spent every moment we could together, both at school and at home. Though I was only her "boyfriend" in the preschool sense of the word, I knew that it would take a miracle to separate how close we had become. Little did I know that that miracle would come in the form of a brown-haired, green-eyed beauty in just a few short years.
Cute.
That's what I thought every time I looked at Samantha Puckett throughout middle school. Though my "best friend" status had been replaced by Carly Shay, Sam and I still spent a significant amount of time around each other. I knew that I thought Sam to be good looking, but then again, any guy in Ridgeway that didn't think Sam was cute was absolutely insane. My romantic feelings, however, had transferred to her new best friend. Carly was equally as good-looking as Sam (if not more so), and her personality didn't frighten anyone that crossed her path. How she and Sam became such good friends, I'll never understand…
Anyway, Carly was very much aware of my feelings, and it goes without saying that she didn't act on them at all. Granted, I did get to make out with quite a bit after I saved her life from the taco truck, but even today I cannot tell myself that those kisses were worth the wait. Making out with Carly just did not amount to what I had pictured in my head. It was nice, no doubt about it, but it seemed to be missing so much. At the time, I could not place what that something was, but I knew that I had felt it before…a few months prior, during one small, meaningless kiss with her fiery, blonde-haired best friend.
Beautiful.
That's what I thought the first time I woke up next to Samantha Puckett. It was in high school, and we had fallen asleep on my couch watching TV. The sun was just beginning to rise, sending brilliant orange and red streaks through the windows of my apartment and illuminating her face in the most brilliant way imaginable. I knew that I should've woken her up, but I could bring myself to disturb such a beautiful sight. Much too soon, she began to stir.
"Freddie?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes and looking around. "What time is it?" I shrugged.
"I'm not sure," I responded softly, still dazed by her beauty. She stretched and yawned before snuggling herself closer to me.
"I guess we fell asleep," she said simply. I nodded, softly kissing the crook of her neck. She fidgeted slightly and giggled. "That tickles." I smiled, nuzzling my face into her neck, making her giggle even more. The sound was so un-Sam like, and yet it was still one of the most beautiful sounds I'd ever heard.
"You smell good," I mumbled into her skin.
"So do you," she yawned. She rolled onto her back, causing me to be half on-top of her, and looked at me with those brilliant blue eyes.
"You're so beautiful," I murmured, curling a strand of hair around my fingers. She smiled and bit her lip, and it took all of my will power to not kiss her as violently as I could.
"It's too early for compliments," she said playfully, struggling to keep her eyes open. I smiled, stroking her cheek softly with my thumb.
"Go back to sleep," I whispered. "I'll be here when you wake up."
She drifted back into a peaceful sleep, and at that moment, I knew that there could be no greater feeling in the world than having her body held tightly against mine. I felt my own eye lids grow heavy, and right in that small window between consciousness and sleep, I realized exactly what making out with Carly all those years had been missing; the greatest feeling in the world: love.
Gorgeous.
That's what I thought as she proceeded down the aisle, dressed in a stunning white gown. When Spencer (whom she had asked to give her away considering he was as close to a father figure as she had) placed her hand in my own, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was the greatest decision of my life. We stood on the altar facing each other, both of us only half-listening as the priest gave his sermon. We were too wrapped up in each other's eyes to notice anything else around us. When we finally said our "I do's", and I was finally able to kiss the bride, I knew that that was the happiest moment I would feel in a very long time.
Breath-taking.
That's what I thought the first time I saw her naked body spread underneath mine. We had been dating for many years, but it was both of our decision to save sex until marriage. It was our honeymoon, and the lights in the hotel room were dimmed just enough to create a sex, romantic glow. I stared into her eyes, stroking her cheek with my thumb.
"I love you so much," I whispered.
"I love you too, more than you know," she replied softly.
"You ready?" She hesitated for a brief second, then nodded.
When I finally entered her, a moment of the utmost bliss washed over me; however, when I looked into her eyes, I noticed she was wincing in pain.
"Am I hurting you?" I asked quickly. She shook her head.
"No," she assured me, her face beginning to relax slightly. "No, it just takes a minute to get used to, I guess." I remained still until the very last trace of pain left her face.
"Ok," she breathed. "Continue."
I began thrusting my hips, slowly at first but gradually faster. The pleasure coursing through my body was so fantastic, words could not even describe it. Our breathing quickened, and Sam began mumbling my name under her breath. I knew I couldn't take much more. A moment of blinding pleasure overtook our bodies, and with one final scream of each other's names, we hit our climax at the same moment. I collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily.
I wrapped my arms around her small frame, pulling her tightly against me as if I never wanted her to leave this moment.
"You are my everything," I whispered into her ear.
"I couldn't live without you," she responded, running her fingers through my hair. I pressed my lips softly to hers, savoring every bit of this moment that I could. Everything was absolutely picture-perfect.
Invincible.
That's what I thought when the woman I loved brought not one, but two children into our lives. Their names were Justin and Kayla, and they were just about the most beautiful creatures I had ever laid eyes on. On my wedding day, I'd thought I would never feel a love for another human being as strong as the love I felt at that moment. I was sadly mistaken. When I first laid eyes on my baby son, and again on my baby daughter, I knew that being a father was the greatest love any man could ever feel. It was an emotional roller coaster raising both of them, but I was there for every laugh and every tear. The day that Kayla finally left for college broke my heart, but I knew it was time for both of them to grow up and move on. My only hope for the both of them was that they would both find someone whom they loved unconditionally…just like the love I had found in their mother.
Human.
That's what I thought as an 87-year-old Sam laid on her death bed. In all the years we had been married, I'd never known her to be weak until that moment. I had spent nearly a week straight in the hospital with her, almost never leaving her side the entire time. I wanted her to know that I meant it when I said I'd be there with her until the end. Minutes before it happened, she slowly opened her eyes and looked at me.
"Freddie," she whispered, her voice soft and hoarse. I leaned in closely, not wanting to miss a word. "If I could do it all over, I wouldn't change a single thing," she said, a small but weak smile forming on her fragile lips.
"I wouldn't either," I answered, attempting to swallow the lump in my throat. "Every moment we spent together was absolutely perfect, and I would not have traded a single one of those moments for anything."
"I wonder what it'll be like…Heaven, I mean," she mused, looking up at the ceiling. "I'll bet it'll make Earth look like a complete nightmare." She laughed softly, and it was immediately taken over by a few violent coughs. She turned to look at me once more. "Think of it that way, honey. Think that right now, you're sleeping…but I'll be right there waiting for you when you wake up." Tears poured freely down my face as I grasped her hand in mine.
"I love you, Sam," I whispered.
"I love you too, Freddie. I always have."
With that, her final breath left her body, and I knew her soul was at last in peace. I laid my head next to her body, my tears soaking the sheets below it. In the midst of the sadness, a happy thought finally struck me:
In my life, I had done exactly what I'd wanted to do since I'd first laid eyes on her so many years ago...I had made Samantha Puckett mine forever.