iAm Jealous
Summary: Sam does not like Freddie's crush on Carly. Seddie or Cam, one-sided crush.
He would look at her, with longing eyes and her stomach would twist.
She dreams of running her fingers through brown hair, of dark eyes look at her in loving longing. She's never sure though, if its Freddie's or Carly's name that's on her tongue when she wakes at night, panting and frustrated and so unsure. She's not certain if she wants to kill Freddie for looking at her best friend, her Carly, like that, or if it's because he doesn't look at her that way that she feels the urge to hurt him, just to divert his attention. When she sits by them, she's torn, never knowing who it is that makes her feel so warm and soft and like she just wants to touch and be touched. She hates that the most, the not knowing who it is that makes her heart race, her breath quicken and her skin flush in anticipation. It's like a taste on her tongue, so sweet and perfect and she can almost name it, almost but never quite.
Sometimes she hates Freddie for the sweet things he'd does for Carly. For the look in his eyes and the way he'd make her breakfast, or refusal to pull her hair for interrupting, she also hates him for his double standards. Sometimes she rejoices in Carly's obvious rejection of Freddie's affection, in the way she's careful to keep the dark eyed brunet in the "friends" category, refusing to embrace him too long while still holding Sam close. She feels safe then, and accepted, wanting nothing more than to stay in her arms just like that for the rest of her life and she'll think that she has it all figured out, but then he will give her a look, one that says he claims her too, that it's not only her pretty best friend that accepts her, loves her, and she can feel her heart start pounding and she's ok then, if Carly disappears.
She dreams of kisses and touching and panted names in the dark, but she can never quiet hear whose name she whispers, deduce whose body is under her hands. Arms hold her close, and voice whispers words of love and warmth. It all slips away with the dawn, leaving her with vague remembrance, the knowledge of someone but never who it was that held her so dearly, like she was precious and special, during the hours of darkness leaving her cold in the morning light.
She lashes out during the day, at the every maturing and growing boy who gives her best friend yearning glances, such soft warmth, wishing he'd turn his gaze to her, and hating him for not seeing her. She lingers in the home of the dark eyed beauty hoping for a touch and a smile, something to show that she sees her, loves her, and fearing their end.
She gets a strange satisfaction in telling him that Carly will never love him, wishing he'll move on and notice her. She silently rejoiced when Carly told her she hated Sam's boyfriend, hoping she's not imagining the slight jealous tilting in the girl's voice.
She so terribly jealous, she just doesn't know of who.