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Author's Note: So this is my first time writing Bright Sessions fanfiction. I had this idea in my head for a good month and a half and I was so pleased that I finally I had time to sit down and write it. We'll see how this goes and I plan on writing for this fandom again.
Thank you to fpirate for beta-reading.
Hope you enjoy!
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Sam turns the sink back on to rinse the toothpaste residue off of her toothbrush. Yawning, she takes out her hair tie, letting her locks to fall to her shoulders. Good God her hair is a mess, but she really can't deal with that now, not while she is struggling to keep her eyes open. Sam takes one last look in the mirror, dragging her hands down her cheeks in a desperate attempt to say conscious, then proceeds to turn off the lights and exit the room.
After walking into her bedroom, she clears her haphazardly sorted notes (the same notes that she's been working on non-stop) from her bed to her desk. Then Sam walks back to the door to flip the lights off and carefully maneuver back to bed, just avoiding obstacles dimly illuminated by moonlight. She takes off her robe, hangs it on the corner of her bed frame and slides off her slippers. Sam climbs into bed and burying herself in the warm sheets, while sighing at the sweet relief.
Maybe she should invest in one of those 'Clap on, Clap off' light thingys. That would make things so much easier, being able to turn on and off the lights from the comfort of her own bed… Who is she kidding, Mark would abuse that thing like crazy. He was probably that guy that though he was sooo funny because he bought a universal remote and change the channel on his dorm neighbour's TVs whenever he'd walk by. Ugh, she'd probably hate that.
Sam closes her eyes while wearing a goofy smile on her face (because the idea of Mark in college eating tons of instant ramen and having some ridiculous early 2000s haircut doesn't fail to amuse her). She yawns again and turns a couple of times to find comfort.
Just as she is on the verge of sleep she hears a faint tapping noise. Of course, she just brushes it off. The neighbour probably just dropped something, that's not an uncommon occurrence. It's only when the tapping persist does she start to ask questions.
Sam pushes herself upright to try and zero-in on the noise. It's like this little pinging noise, one after another and it's coming from the… window?
What?
Sam hurried to slip on her robe and slippers and runs to turn on the lights. She pauses for a moment, making sure she isn't just hallucinating, but the tapping persists against the glass sliding door out to her balcony. It's faint noise, sure, but something is undoubtedly hitting her door.
"Okay, okay," she mutters to herself, shuffling to the other side of the room and sliding open the door. When Sam steps onto the balcony she nearly steps on—what is that, rocks? Why—Who is throwing rocks at her window?
Sam peeks over the balcony railing to see Mark standing in the small patch of light pouring out from her apartment, while wearing a brown trench coat and holding a small portable speaker over his head.
"Mark? What are you doing here?!" she calls out.
Though, Mark doesn't respond, instead music begins playing from the speaker, some kind of soft piano melody.
"Let me catch my breath," Mark says, just loud enough for her to hear. "This is really hard."
Wait, wait, wait a minute. Is—is he singing to her?
"If I start to look like I'm sweating, well," he snickers. "That's 'cause I am."
The music continues, Mark's dark brown eyes piercing her's.
"I'm not good with words, but that's nothing new. Still I have to try to explain what I want to do with you, with you—" He places the speaker onto the grass beside him as he hold a note.
Taking a step forward, Mark sings softly, "Run away with me."
"Let me be your ride out of town, let me be the place that you hide. We can make our lives on the go, run away with me."
A bright smile grows on Sam's face. She's heard him hum a few things here and there, but she never knew he had the voice of a Broadway actor.
"Texas in the summer is cool, we'll be on the road like Jack Kerouac, looking back. Sam you're ready let's go— Anywhere— Get the car packed and throw me the key. Run away with me."
Sam laughs, "Mark, you're such a hopeless romantic!" while gripping the railing, trying to lean closer to him.
"Sam, I know it's fast. I'm in love with you. Sam it's crazy, but Sam I'm crazier for you."
"I have these plans Sam, I have these plans for a house that we build on a bay when we run away—"
Slowly Mark becomes somewhat of a boyband member, gesturing to her, clenching his jacket and running his hands through his hair, you know, classic teen-heartthrob stuff. It really makes her wonder how Joan is related to him.
"Let me be your ride out of town, let me be the place that you hide, we can make our lives on the go. Run away with me."
"Alabama heat? Sign me up! We'll be on the road like some country song, won't be long. Sam you're ready let's go— Anywhere— Get the car packed and throw me the key. Run away with me."
She finds herself tapping her foot to the rhythm. A song about a road trip address to a girl name Sam? What are the chances? It's prefect.
Sam knows that Mark plays piano (and violin, guitar, ukulele and the didgeridoo she thinks? Apparently he did it to impress an Australian girl he dated once?) she highly doubts that Mark wrote the song himself. He probably stole it from some TV show or indie musical or artist, but that doesn't make her less amazed by her boyfriend.
"I'm not trying to make you a wife here, I'm not trying to tie you down. I'm just saying there might be a life here, a new, just as soon as we run, just as soon as we run."
"Run away- Run away with me! California dream here we come! Romeo is calling for Juliet. Ready, set, Sam. Ready let's go— Anywhere— Say the word and I'll already there—!"
For the first time in three minutes Mark shies away from Sam's gaze. He looks down to his jacket pocket and he reaches for something, a black velvet box. Then he gazes back up to while bending down on one knee—oh gosh.
Sam's heart skips a beat as Mark opens the box and smiles, the lyrics "Will you marry me?" passing through his lips.
Tears stream down Sam's face as the final notes on the piano are played.
"Oh my—Yes! Mark get your butt up here so I can kiss you—you hopeless romantic!"
In no time at all, Sam watches as Mark hurries to get his speaker and races into the apartment complex. By the time she enters back into the bedroom, she can already hear her front door opening.
Her eyes swell back up with tears at the sight of Mark.
"Sam!" he exclaims as he rushes towards her, taking her into his arms and spinning her around. When both of her feet are back on the ground, she feels him drop a kiss on her forehead and wipe the tears for her cheeks.
Mark pulls the right box from his pocket again and takes the engagement right from its place. "May I?" he asks.
Still at a loss for words, Sam simply nods and lets Mark take her left hand (which is a tad shaky) to slip on the diamond ring. He kisses the back of Sam's hand, "Perfect."
Sam takes a moment to further admire the ring. It was on the more simple side of things, with a single diamond and an elegant white gold band that had swirl-esque patterns closest to the gemstone. It is really perfect.
"The ring is absolutely gorgeous, I never knew you had an eye for this kind of stuff," Sam comments.
Mark shrugs, "Well, I do know what makes the perfect photograph and I knew that you and that ring would be picture perfect. Plus...I may or may not have gotten Joan to help me...and Chloe to read your mind to know that you think bling-y decked out diamond rings are atrocious and only for the, quote "Stupidly rich people that go to, like, Starbucks everyday and take picture of their fancy food to make people jealous"," Mark's voice goes up and octave in attempts to impersonate her.
Despite how horrendous the impression is (and horrendous doesn't even begin to describe it), Sam laughs before saying, "Regardless of the fact that you let Chloe snoop in my head, I love the ring—Well, you knew I'd love the ring because you got Chloe to read my mind… I'm babbling, yeah I'm making no sense now…"
Mark chuckles. "Well, you don't even know the best part; on inside I had it engraved and it says 'Loved you since 1810' and I thought of that one myself."
Sam takes the ring off to see for herself. She smiles at the words written in a beautiful handwritten script (whoever engraved this must have been super confused). "Aww Mark, that's so sweet."
"Anything for my girl," Mark winks.
"Oh come here you sap," Sam says as she reaches for the back of his neck and pulls Mark for a kiss...only to pull back seconds later.
"Oh gross, you're so sweaty," she complains as she wipes her hands into the sides of her pants.
"Well, I did put on a Broadway worthy private show, while wearing this ridiculously warm coat and ran up three flights of stairs for you soooo—"
"Mark," she interrupts. "I love you so, so much."
Mark leans in to give her a quick peck on the lips. "I love you too, and I can't wait to see you in that white wedding dress."
"Then after we could even go that road trip that we were robbed of," Sam proposes.
"Ugh, don't remind me," Mark says dramatically. "I was so looking forward to seeing the World's Largest Peanut. Only if that asshole didn't kidnap me… Dammit, you know we need to have a plan just in case you-know-who decides to crash our wedding."
Sam laughs (though, maybe they should have a plan), "It's gonna take a whole lot more than Damien to prevent me from marrying you. I love you Mark."
Mark pulls her into his arms, kissing her tenderly and whispering as their lips disconnect, "I love you too Sam."
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Another Author's Note: I seriously want someone to propose/ask me on this way. This entire fic came from that daydream I once had.
So if you didn't know, there are official playlist for TBS on 8Tracks. 'Run Away with Me' (from the musical The Unauthorized Autobiography of Samantha Brown, this version was the Michael Arden on off of 'Our First Mistakes'), the song in this fic is from the Sam x Mark playlist. Go listen to it, I'm super obsessed with this song and the playlist as a whole.
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