These two are my favorite. I just can't stop writing them.
I love them together so much.
:)
--
She's sitting sprawled across the couch with a candy cane in her mouth like she has no idea at all how perfect she is even though anybody with even the tiniest bit of something resembling a brain can realize that she is, in fact, perfect. And she most definitely has more than the tiniest bit of a brain, even if she tries to act like she doesn't.
People tell you that you're crazy and they ask you what you see in her, anyway, when you could have anybody and everybody and you stare at them for a couple of seconds and then you start beating them with whatever hard object is within reach, because she's perfect. She's so perfect. She's all you could ever ask for.
She's beautiful. She's so absolutely beautiful and you've always thought so.
"Carly Shayy.." She mumbles, candy cane between her teeth and she's staring up at you and she's playing with her hair and you're just standing there and you're in complete awe of her. And she has no idea. She really doesn't because she never does and she never thinks she's beautiful or that she's perfect or that she has any sort of power over you but she does.
You stare at her. It's all you've ever been able to do. Sit there and stare at her and she amazes you. She takes your breath away and she's absolutely perfect and she's everything.
"Samantha Puckett," You say, your eyes still on her and your tongue tripping over all the little sounds in her name and you really are so lucky that you have her. You are. You're lucky.
You're letting your eyes fall down her body and all the curls in her hair and all the tiny little stray hairs sticking out and you're thinking briefly that on anybody else, it would look horrible but it makes her look even more beautiful. And you're pretty sure that no matter what she did or what she looked like, she would still be beautiful.
You obsess over her too much. But whatever. She's Sam. Who wouldn't obsess over her?
She smiles at you. Not a teethy smile or one of those huge little kid smiles, just one of her crooked half smiles that you've coined "The Sam Smile" and depending on when she uses it, it's either the cutest thing in the whole world or the sexiest thing in the world and right now it's definitely the latter and it gives you chills and she knows perfectly well what she does to you, and she loves every moment of it.
She used to be so self conscious and shy and unsure of herself. Nobody would've ever been able to tell, sure, because she was always the loud friend and she was always beating up Freddie but she really was probably one of the shyest girls you've ever met. She thought everything she did was wrong and she hated everything about herself and she would always used to tell you about how she wished she were pretty and "Carly, god, you're so gorgeous. You're so fucking lucky," and she wished she could be you.
And you wished she could be with you.
She isn't like that anymore though. Not at all. Not for a long time.
She's got her fingers in your hair and she curls pieces around her fingers and you're shifting across the ground and you're hanging your head over hers and she stares up at you and her eyes are stunning and you can feel your breath catching in your throat.
She leaves you speechless.
She holds the back of your head and she's still staring up at you and you're breathing her breath and she pulls your head down and she's kissing you and you'll never get over how soft her lips are. How soft and how it's like they've never been chapped and she always tastes like some sort of fruit and she's just perfect and you love everything about her and everything that she makes you feel. You love how her breath feels against you and you love how her tongue feels and you love how it feels when she's under you and you touch some place or other right and she presses against you and against the bed at the same time and fuck.
You love her.
"Sam.."
You don't want this to ever change.
--
Yeah, she amazes you, sure, but you're perfectly aware of the fact that you do the exact same thing to her. And you have no idea what she sees in you but you love it and you love the way she stares at you when she thinks you aren't looking. You love the look she gets on her face when you stop kissing her, right before she opens her eyes again and realizes what's happening.
You love her. You love everything about her and you love everything that you do to her.
"Hey babe?"
Her voice startles you and you're shrugging yourself out of your daydreams and turning around and looking at her and she's staring back at you, one hand on her hip with the refrigerator door swung wide open behind her.
"Mhm?" You mumble, voice muffled by the couch cushion you've got your face smushed into.
She's gorgeous, you're thinking in the back of your mind as you absently run your eyes up her body.
"First, you do realize that I can still see your eyes, right?" She's asking, chuckling a little bit even as her cheeks turn the softest shade of pink.
"Mhm."
Oh god, no, anything but this. Anything but your girlfriend seeing your checking her out. God have mercy. You can't imagine anything more horribly embarrassing.
You think that you could be a little more sarcastic, but you might melt into a puddle of doom.
"Secondly, where is my ham?" She's trying to sound angry, but she's smiling. She's always smiling because she's always happy.
You haven't seen her unhappy in months.
"It, uh, died." You're replying, rolling over on the couch and turning the volume up on the tv.
You can't see her anymore, but you know that she's standing there, processing that, and in a couple of seconds she's going to either accept that her ham has died, or she's going to pretend to throw a fit until you feed her.
"It's a ham, Carly. Of course it's dead."
Yeah. She's not gonna do the former.
"We don't have any ham, Sam."
That rhythms. The fact that that amuses you makes you feel like you're five.
She's quiet again for a couple of seconds, and she's either accepting that there's no ham, or she's going to order you to go out and get her more ham, because she's her and ham is ham and the two can never be complete without each other.
"Can we get ham?"
She's the cutest human being on the planet. She's really damn lucky she is, because otherwise you're pretty sure you would've strangled her or ax murdered her or drowned her years ago.
"Can't you just eat something el--"
And then she's behind you and she's got her arms around your waist and she's saying in your ear, "Carlyyy I want ham," and it's the weirdest mix between sexy and adorable that you've ever been subjected to, and you have absolutely no idea how to react.
"Fine. I'll get you some ham."
Or maybe you do.
--
You got her her ham. You walked 6 blocks in the snow and you bought her half a pound of ham and then walked 6 blocks back and you can't completely feel your right ear or your toes but she got her ham.
Her ham, which she's now stuffing into her mouth beside you on the couch, while you pull another blanket around your shoulders and sip your hot chocolate and shiver.
"Have I told you today that I love you?" She asks between mouthfuls of ham.
"Several times, actually," You're replying, feeling your teeth chattering.
"Really?"
She's so lucky she's this cute. And you remind her of that fact regularly.
You're looking at her and you have this pathetic, "It's so cold and you had better feel loved and please feel bad for me because did I mention that it's cold?" look on your face and she smiles at you and she kisses you and she tastes like ham.
"Cutie,"
--
It's midnight. It's midnight and it's Christmas eve (does it count as Christmas eve if it was just the 23rd less than 30 seconds ago?) and you're just coming home from the grocery store with her and she's got a bag full of bread and two pounds of ham and milk and butter and chocolate chips and potato chips and a six pack and you're sure if it was something you wanted, she's be complaining about how heavy it was and how her fingers hurt and if she lost her fingers, it would be all your fault.
You're standing in the elevator next to her and you're letting your shoulder brush against hers just the tiniest little bit, just because you love how it makes you feel and you know it does the same thing to her and you know that she loves it, too.
Neither of you say anything, though. It's snowing outside and you've both got white, half melted stuff on your heads and your shoulders and the bottoms of your jeans are soaked and somehow, this is just one of those moments where you just want to be quiet because somehow it's magical.
Magical enough that you can't tell how cold your ankles are, at least.
You always feel like that around Christmas time when it snows though. Everything feels soft and quiet and sweet and every dumb little thing feels perfect.
You're standing in front of your apartment and you're trying to find your keys so you can get back inside because groceries are great and all, but so is a nice warm apartment with a stove and an oven so you can actually do something with those groceries.
"Hey," Sam's saying from behind you, as though she's seen something completely amazing and it's changed her life.
She does that a lot. You're not even bothering to turn around. You need to find your stupid keys.
"Yeah?"
"Did you put up that mistletoe?" She's asking, and you can tell even without looking at her that she's got that really cute look on her face that she gets whenever she finds some little thing that amuses her.
"I dunno. Maybe?" And you actually can't remember, surprisingly enough.
"Babe?"
"Mhm?"
Where'd you put your keys?
"You're supposed to kiss me, you know," She's saying, wrapping her arms around your middle from behind you and she's squeezing your side just the tiniest little bit so it seems like she didn't mean to because she knows perfectly well how much of a turn on that is.
She's so sweet. In her own special little Sam way, she's a sweetheart.
You're turning around and all the bags of groceries are sitting on the ground and you've got your arms around her neck and your hands are tangled up under her scarf and you've got your lips against hers and you can feel her standing on her toes to be able to reach your lips.
"Love you," You're mumbling against her mouth, feeling her breath on your face.
"Merry Christmas," She grins at you.