A/N: Hey guys! I'm back with a new one :). One of my favourite episodes is Episode 10 of Season 1 and totally got inspired by watching the other day. This story begins at the end of Season 1 Episode 9…and will probably be only a few chapter long … I'd love to know what you think, so please read and review :)
You should all know by now that my chapters are rarely long, I am trying to work on it but I'm not getting any better at it haha.
DISCLAIMER: If I had any ownership over Sam Swarek, I would be finding much more interesting things to do than writing about him ;)
Chapter 1 – Secrets
Andy just stood there, staring at the door that had just been slammed. Silence echoed around the room as the minutes slowly ebbed away. It wasn't until the sound of the timer, reminding her to check on the chicken slowly roasting in the oven, that she realised just how long she had been standing there. She robotically walked over to the stove and switched everything off, food not currently high on her priorities. She made her way over to the couch, allowing herself to become absorb in the cushiony material, her eyes laced over pictures that had just recently been hung on the walls as a result of a drunken girls' night.
I should chase after him. I should want to chase after him. I should tell him that it meant nothing, to both of us. But it didn't. I should feel like my whole world is slowly collapsing. But I don't.
As her eyes continued to gaze at the pictures she feels a breeze of relief wash over her and her body relaxes into the comforting couch. She can't explain the feeling that's sitting at the pit of her stomach, but it's nothing like what she should be feeling right now. She should feel sad; she should feel like she'd just lost everything. But it feels like she's been released, like the handcuffs she had been wearing for so long had finally been unlocked.
Luke was right, secrets don't work. Especially when those secrets hide more feelings than she would ever care to admit. Ever. She hoisted herself from the couch and made her way over to the glass jar that sat in her freezer. Carefully lifting the cool glass from its holder, she placed herself back on the couch. She trailed her fingertips over the smooth jar, slowly making a pattern in the condensation of mist that currently hid the glass' contents. She rested the pad of her thumb against the glass until its coldness became too much and gently wiped away the remaining mist, allowing the true contents of the glass to be revealed. Her eyes traced over the name written on the single piece of paper inside, her mind suddenly becoming a whirlwind of thoughts. My secret. Sam's secret. Our secret. Our mistake? Best mistake of my life. The whirlwind suddenly ceased as her mind wandered back to that night. She had never felt so safe, so cared about. Then the lights came on. Normality took over. It was what it was, she thought.
Frustration took hold of her, it was what it was – who's he kidding? Who am I kidding? She rose from the couch and made her way over to the sink, placing the glass inside and allowing the hot water to run over it. She watched carefully as the ice gently thawed, slowly releasing the yellow paper that was in its grasp. She turned the tap off and reached inside for the paper. Despite how wet it had gotten, the blue ink remained clear. Sam Swarek, she read to herself. Sam bloody Swarek, she thought. She had never met a man that could both infuriate and intrigue her so much. God, that man.
Before her mind could wander any further there was a knock on the door. God, please don't be Luke, she pleaded silently as her eyes glimpsed to the ceiling.