Beauty.
That word had so many definitions and interpretations that it made Sam's head spin. For her though, beauty was something that entranced you, something that pulled at you and filled you until you were full. Ribs were beautiful. Bibble was beautiful. Her bike, the road, and a strong wind were beautiful.
Catarina Valentine was beautiful. And that was was strange, because she had never expected something she found beautiful to confuse the ever-loving chizz out of her.
Or that she'd want it to.
It wasn't because she was a girl. Sam wasn't picky like that. But whenever she was around the redhead, she was different; softer somehow. She hated doing things for people, even for herself (her laziness was something she took great pride in). But the moment Cat was upset, she stormed through the set of their favorite show and conned the set crew into delivering all of the props to their house, for nothing more than to see her smile.
People cringing in fear of her wrath made her smirk, but Cat's flinch had her reaching for the girl instead.
Cat was strange. There were moments when Sam wondered if she'd been dropped too many times as an infant, or if there was a reason she'd lived with Nona and not her parents.
But the annoyance was far and between now, and more often than not Sam found herself chuckling softly when Cat burned the soup, walked through the door shouting, "Honey, I'm home!" in deference to another of favorite shows, and hugged her.
Hugged her.
Sam Puckett doesn't do hugs, but she did for Cat. She was different for Cat, and rather than find that scary, she found it easy.
She found it beautiful.