A/N: Help, I'm shipping Sam and Eileen too hard! I loved her character and would really love for her to be Sam's endgame, so here's a piece of pure fluff with them in an established relationship.
"The title is a transliteration of the Irish mo chuisle meaning "my pulse" as used in the phrase a chuisle mo chroí (pulse of my heart) meaning "darling" or "sweetheart". " - "Macushla" - Wikipedia
Unfortunately, I have no idea what mo chuisle translates to in sign language, as in would you would sign a term of endearment like "my love" or if you'd literally sign "my heart" or "my pulse" or if the meaning is preserved or if Eileen would be using Irish Sign Language instead of American or what the case would be, so I'd really love it if anyone out there knows and could tell me!
Mo Chuisle
Eileen likes Sam's mouth. She likes the way it forms her name, the second syllable pulling the corners of his lips upwards into a smile. She likes the way it tastes: dark chocolate and whisky at once sweet and bitter when they kiss. It's a generous mouth, made for warm smiles and tender kisses, but also passionate and sensual and sometimes she doesn't know if she'd rather be watching his lips or tasting them.
Eileen likes Sam's arms. She likes the way they're big enough to wrap all the way around her, strong enough to harm but gentle enough that they never will. They're a hunter's arms: powerful and protective, and even if she doesn't need protection she'll always love feeling the shape of his toned muscles beneath her grasping fingers; the heat of his skin sliding against hers.
Eileen likes Sam's eyes. She likes the colors, hazel easily mistaken for green or grey in the evening light, but always beautiful and sparkling just for her. They look at her like she's the blue skies breaking through an endless blanket of grey clouds, and it's easy for Eileen to lose herself in them.
Eileen likes Sam's heartbeat. She likes feeling the pulse of it beneath his skin; steady, comforting, a constant reassurance that he's alive and safe here with her. Her own heart quickens when she first feels it, but soon it calms, two rhythms falling into sync. She can't imagine that it's meant to be any other way.
"Mo chuisle," she calls him, and watches as he says it back to her, his mouth careful with the words. Mo chuisle. Pulse of my heart.
He smiles, and she loves the way his eyes light up for her, those strong arms holding her while he kisses her forehead and draws her close to his chest. She settles comfortably with her head beneath his chin, his breathing a gentle rise and fall like a lullaby, feeling his heartbeat through her cheek keep steady time with her own.
This Eileen likes best of all.