Title: Smother
Prompt: pillow
Word Count: 242
Disclaimer: Ryan Murphy created them. I just like playing with the moulds.
A/N: Written in the middle of the night. On my blackberry. In my bathroom.
Sometimes I feel like I could smother Sam with a pillow. That all of the annoyance and contempt could be banished if I had no qualms with just… holding one to her face for a few minutes. You know, if I didn't have a moral issue with murder. Sure, she'd struggled for a while and I think I'd panic at first, but then I'd get a sick thrill out of it.
I'm beginning to wonder if I've spent too many nights laying awake contemplating this. But the fact that I sometimes feel like I could smother her to death is valid and very real. Some may say worrying. I think it's probably pretty normal.
I mean, if a girl you hated invaded your home, repeatedly insisted on stealing your sink in the bathroom - completely ignoring the rota you'd worked out only a week before - put a huge strain on the relationship you have with your father, the only parent you have left minus her mother who is trying her best to fill the shoes left out for her, and then to top it all off had the gall to make you fall in love with her, wouldn't you consider killing her with a pillow too?
Instead, I just throw it at her.
"Ow!" Sam squeals, staring at me like I've just grown an extra head. Stupid bid dumb brown eyes. "Brooke, what the hell was that for?" I shrug.
"Nothing."