Disclaimer: So I don't own iCarly. I wanna own a unicorn, but I'm told that it'll run away. Such a lie. Unicorns prance.
iAlways Come Back
So many bruises. I've been kicked, punched, shoved, smacked, spanked, and everything in between. The source of all my awful pain? A teenage girl.
She came off as sweet if you've never spoken to her. She smelled like peppermint from afar. Her hair was silky and curly. Her outfits, though original, were thoughtfully put together.
You would have never guessed her personality by looking at her exterior.
She left scars. I have plenty to prove it. She endlessly picks on me, but I know her better now. I know her soft side now. I know what goes through her mind now. I know how she processes things now.
All this knowing gave me the courage to confront her. "Why do you do this to me?"
"Because it's fun," she replies, turning her attention back to her pint of ice cream.
"Is that really how you feel?" I ask.
I may know how her mind works, but I don't know the thoughts it contains. She looks up at me from her beanbag chair, her eyes becoming glassy.
"Do you really enjoy hurting me?" I question further. "It's fine if you do. You know I just want you to be happy. At least I hope you know that. If it makes you feel good to hurt me, then keep doing it. You deserve to be happy. So does it?"
I take a deep breath. It suddenly dawned on me who I'm telling this to. The girl who uses everything against me has been given the right to abuse me – to use me – in any way she wants.
Her eyes are still glassy, but there's a smirk on her face now. The same smirk she wears on a daily basis. The smirk that's reserved especially for me.
"I love hurting you," she says.
I'm somewhat surprised. I wasn't expecting an answer. In all honesty, I was expecting a beating.
She continued. "I love how you always come back. I love knowing that my fists don't scare you off. And then I start to love you for it."
She smiled at me. Her evil senses were fully activated. She wanted to make me speechless. She always did. Mission accomplished.
I held out my hand for her to take. I expected nothing less of her when she pulled me down. Apparently my expectations were varying greatly today.
She looked me in the eyes now as she spoke. "You're strong, Fredbones. You know it. You're the strongest person I know. You could knock me out with one punch."
"I would never hurt you."
"I know. And I love that. You would never dream of hurting me – Because you care about me. And that's more than I can say about most people," she finished.
"You don't think people care about you?" I asked sincerely.
She looked in my eyes for a moment. She didn't answer, but I knew what she meant to say.
And it's hard to describe Sam's feelings. There's never been a way to flat-out say what she's thinking – Without offending anyone, that is.
I smiled. Despite all the confusion, she's happy. And that's what makes me happy.
"I care about you," I say.
Her smirk disappeared and was soon replaced with a small – but genuine – grin. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it. Now she looked worried, and slightly puzzled. If you didn't know what was going on, you would think she was trying to create every facial expression known to man in a certain time allotment.
I felt her head moving closer to mine, the beanbag chair crinkling beneath us. I was aware of what was happening now more than ever.
As a trembling pair of lips met my lips, I kept them steady. Her rock. She kissed me slowly, uncertain of what she was doing. I remained her rock, holding her chin in my hand.
She slowly pulled away. Her eyes found mine once again. Fear was etched all across her face – For what, I don't know.
"It's okay," I say, caressing her cheek. I need to choose my words and actions carefully, as always. "I'll always come back."