Thanks a lot to TeenyTinyIrishPerson for beta reading!

Sam had been acting a bit odd around me for a while, more than usual—a tad as if she had a secret. I'd tried calling her out on it and getting her to tell me what was bothering her, but it's Sam we're talking about here. Why was she able to make me do whatever she wanted and I couldn't even get her to talk to me?

It was late. I just came back from a shift at the Nine Bells, tired and exhausted, and was about to announce that I was home—I don't even know why I had the habit of doing that, but if Sam was home, it usually drew her out because she had something earth-shattering to tell—but then I heard noises coming from the kitchen. I went to investigate. Maybe she was preparing some dinner and I could snag some of it; I was really hungry. Although, it still sent shivers down my spine thinking about the last time Sam tried to fulfil herself in the kitchen.

Sam was hunched over the kitchen counter, propped up on elbows. Wait—was she wearing one my sweatshirts? What on earth...? She liked to comment on my attire from time to time, especially when we were going out, but I just feel very comfortable in my trousers and plain clothes and not Sam's fancy dresses and outfits; they do look really good on her, though.

I was just taking a breath in preparation to call Sam out on her current attire, when she ran a sleeve over her eyes. Was she crying? She grabbed a handful of that sweatshirt, pulled it up to her nose, sniffled and then mumbled into it: "I shouldn't be in love with you." She shook her head.

My eyebrows shot up into my hairline. I slowly stepped up to her. "Hey, Sam. Are you okay?"

Her head shot around, wide-eyed. "Shit! I mean, hi!" She forced a smile, looked down her body and released the handful of shirt she was still holding. Her mouth opened as if she was going to say something, but nothing happened.

I tried again: "Are you okay?"

Her face scrunched up for a short moment, then it relaxed again and she turned away. "Yeah, it's nothing."

There were only five things that made Sam cry: exams, TV shows, parents, bad relationships, and when her camera broke. "Heartache?" Good measured shot in the dark. Looking horrified, she froze. Seemed like I hit something—time to press on. "Who shouldn't you love?"

She squinted at me. "Were you eavesdropping?" I made an innocent face. Her eyes darted around for a second, then she picked up a sandwich that had been lying on the counter in front of her and—holy moly—it was enormous. "Look at this. Look at this! How can you not fall in love with this?" She theatrically mock-fainted.

I admit, I couldn't help eyeing her meal—salivating ensued, my stomach rumbled. But I wasn't going to let her off so easily this time; I rolled my eyes. "Okay... I'm not sure I'd cry over a sandwich, though."

Sam held out half an onion to me with a deadpan. Oookay, something was off here. I gently put a hand on her shoulder, to which she tensed up. "You know you can tell me anything."

She snorted and pulled herself away from me. "Yeah, right," she mumbled and went for the living room, sandwich in her hands. That moment I wasn't sure whether I should have been more upset about her deflecting me once again or that her sandwich was leaving with her.

When Sam stepped out of the kitchen, I called after her: "Why are you wearing my shirt?"

"It's cold," she said like a question, as if using my clothes instead of her own was the normal thing to do.

"And you couldn't have taken one of your shirts?"

She looked shocked. "No?"

I was dumbfounded.

Sam was about to leave me like that when she suddenly halted, sighing audibly until she looked deflated. "Hey, there is this documentary series coming up. Wanna join me?"

At this point, I was willing to take whatever I could get. "Okay, I just need to get something to eat first. I'm starving."

She looked down at the plate in her hands and gave me a warm smile. "You can have half. I'd probably die from it anyway."

I kind of loved her right then.

A/N: These one shots are based on a list I saw on Tumblr that was labeled as "Shout at my muse and see how she reacts" (or similar) with 25 exclamations you'll find as titles in the chapter list. It's basically just writing excersice, but maybe you'll enjoy it.