The candlelight flickered, making brief shapes play across the wall. I focused my vision on her angry eyes.
"Am I not allowed to have friends anymore?" She said mildly, for now.
"Not friends that you make out with." I shot back, now sounding hysteric and ridiculous.
"We didn't make out, we kissed. And it was no big freakin deal!"
"'No big deal'? What about me?"
"What about you?"
"I-I'm"
"Not my boyfriend. We are not official. Which means I can kiss anyone I want because as far as I'm concerned, I'm single."
He was silent. His eyes glued to the ground as she continued.
"I have no obligation to be faithful, because there's nothing to be faithful to."
"B-but... what about all those nights..." His voice was quiet, like a young boy being scolded was trying to explain something.
"Having sex a few times doesn't make you a couple."
"So... what? What are we then?"
"We were friends with benefits, but now I don't know what we are. And honestly, I don't really care."
"You don't care about anything, Or anyone, other than yourself. That's nothing new." His voice had an edge of hurt in it as he looked up at her. She looked back down at him and opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out and she snapped it closed again.
They were silent for a few minutes, she seemed to be debating whether to say something and he was waiting to see if she got mad.
"If that's what you think, then maybe I should just leave." She spoke quietly, avoiding his eyes. There was something in her voice, something he wasn't used to hearing, but he couldn't place it.
"Sa-"
"Just let me go. Then maybe I'll think about coming back." She quickly grabbed her purse, making sure everything she needed was there, and then headed for the door.
"Wait, Sam." He called, waiting for her to turn around.
"What?" She snapped, not even turning around.
"I..." He started, but then chickened out, "Be careful. I'll see you later?" It came out as a question.
"Maybe." And then she opened the door and quickly walked out, slamming it behind her.
He stood up and walked over to the window. After a minute or two, she appeared, walking across the parking lot and over to her car. He watched her get in and rest her head on the steering wheel and then whispered, "I love you."
.
.
.
He didn't follow her. He was too angry and too hurt to even see her.
"Having sex a few times doesn't make you a couple."
Maybe not for normal people, Freddie thought, But I just thought for me and her... I just thought it was different. But I should have known. This is Sam. She has more commitment issues than Spencer does.
He sunk deeper into the couch and covered his face with his hand. "Aunghh..." He groaned, still unable to forget their argument.
"If that's what you think, then maybe I should just leave."
"What the hell does that even mean!" He half yelled, aloud. Why does she always have to be so freaking difficult?
He had to admit though, he was stupid. He was naive. He figured that maybe, them living together and sleeping together... all those moments they had, all the things they had shared. All of the impromptu dates...
He thought that meant that she felt the same way about him that he felt about her. He had wanted to ask her to be his girlfriend. But Carly had advised him not to, and he had agreed. Sam has commitment issues, and asking her so officially would just scare her away. She shows emotions with her actions, so he figured that after all they had done together, he figured that was her way of saying they were together.
But he was wrong. As usual.
There was just something about what she said last night- the "If that's what you think, then maybe I should just leave."- thing. Did that mean that she cared about the wellbeing of someone else? Probably Carly. Definitely Carly.
He wouldn't allow himself to hope that maybe, just maybe, that someone might be him.
.
.
.
It's been two days. Two days since she left. Two days without Sam.
He never realized how much she makes up his day. He never realized how boring work was without her to text or for her to pop up and demand he take her to lunch.
It just wasn't the same. And he didn't like it.
Carly called that night around eleven. He didn't have work the next day so he was awake. He answered on the first ring, knowing that Sam was there and hoping that maybe she had decided to speak to him.
"Hello?" He asked anxiously into the phone.
"Hey Freddie," Carly's chipper voice replied. His shoulders slumped, disappointed. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to her, he just wanted to talk to someone else even more.
"Oh. Hi Carly."
"Gee, don't you sound happy to hear from me."
"Sorry, is Sam with you?"
"What? No, she left a few hours ago to go back there. She's not there?" She panicked. He could almost hear her begin to pace.
"No she's not he-" He was interrupted by someone pounding on the door.
"I bet that's her." Carly said on the other end, obviously hearing the obnoxiously loud banging.
"It probably is. I'll call you back if it isn't."
"Okay talk to you later. Bye." She said as the pounding started again.
"Bye," He replied, putting the phone on the table and jumping up from the couch. He walked over to the door and threw it open to see the blonde demon leaning against he apartment across from theirs. She was disheveled and leaning. Drunk.
"Freeeeeeeedoooooooooooo. Took you long enooough." She slurred, bumping past him into the apartment. Out of habit, he looked across the hall at the apartment across from him, momentarily forgetting that he no longer lived across from Carly and she couldn't help him.
He turned around to see Sam slumping into the couch. Her head lolled off to one side, but she was looking at him in her peripheral vision.
He walked over and sat down next to her, flipping the TV on. Knowing the way they work. A few minutes into a rerun of Judge Jason, she jumped up and ran to the bathroom. He quickly followed and made it to her just in time to hold her hair as she puked up the alcohol she'd downed earlier.
She stood up and looked in the mirror, groaning at her appearance. He silently handed her a toothbrush and turned the water on. He waited while she brushed, watching her the whole time. As she looked at her sorry appearance, their eyes met. Her brushing slowed but his stare didn't get any less stronger. She spit into the sink and rinsed her mouth, feeling him watching her the whole time. Once she had wiped her mouth and thrown the toothbrush on the counter, he put his arm around her waist and helped her to her room.
She collapsed onto her bed and he turned to leave but her voice called out and stopped him.
"Don't leave me." Her voice was quiet, and when he turned around to look at her she was spread out on the bed, her head on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling.
"Why not?" He questioned, suddenly wondering why he still put up with it. Why he felt these feelings for her that she didn't even return.
"I'm sorry. I was a bitch. I was wrong."
"Sam-"
"No, it's true. Can you just..." She closed her eyes and you could hear the affects of her drinking slip back into her voice. "Can you just hold me?" Her voice was almost a whisper, soft and pleading. Something not normal for Sam.
He walked over to the bed and stood there, hesitating.
"Stoooop being a nub and come here." Her eyes flashed opened and he could see her deep blue eyes teasing him.
Only she could be that drunk and that sober at the same time. Though, she had always said 'Mama can hold her liquor.'
He sat down on the bed and she closed the distance between them, pulling him down so that his head was resting on a pillow. She leaned into him, pressing her head into his chest. He hesitantly wound his arms around her.
"I like this." She commented, yawning.
"Like what?"
"This," She emphasized, snuggling closer to him.
"Oh."
"I really am sorry Freddie. I have... issues with this kind of thing... You know that."
He was quiet for a moment, before loosening his grip on her. "Sam, either you be with me, or you don't. But you can't do that you were doing. You can't... use me like you do and then turn around and find another boy toy. It's either all of me or none of me."
"I... I want to be with you..."
"Then be with me"
"But..."
"No butts. When the Sam Puckett I know makes a decision, the decision is made. Nothing stops Sam Puckett. You want to be with me, be with me."
"I'm scared..."
"I thought Puckett's were fearless?"
She sighed, "I'm no wuss."
"Then prove it."
"Fine."
"So you'll be my girlfriend?"
"I'm not into labels. But technically, yea." She yawned and her eyes glazed over. He didn't say anything else, he knew that she would pass out pretty soon. Sure she had always gloated about being able to 'hold her liquor' but she usually fell asleep pretty quickly.
So he just held her as she fell asleep. And then he kissed her forehead, wrapped his arms tighter around her, and got comfortable in the bed.
"Goodnight, Princess Puckett," He whispered to her sleeping form, before drifting off to sleep.