(Part 2 - Sam)
"Wow." She walked into the room, wide-eyed. Her voice laden with sarcasm, continued. "I'm sorry, did you just admit that you knew I wasn't a lesbian? What was your first clue?"
Pierce shrugged, still seemingly a bit out of character.
"It just kind of came out before I saw how sad you looked." Every now and again, Britta noticed, Pierce had these moments where he would be tender; an actual person who cared about them. About her. Pierce pat the seat next to him, an invitation.
"What's the matter, Brittles?" Now, Pierce shifted his gaze and shrugged. "I know that you don t like to talk about your problems, but-"
"My cat, Sparkles, uh. She died, Pierce." Britta raised her eyebrows, not able to find an alternate way of saying it. "I don't really want to talk about it, okay?" Britta covered her mouth with her wrist, stifling a sob (Great, she was going to ruin her new sweater). Regardless of her better judgment, she accepted his invitation and took a seat next to him. She didn't want to let herself be vulnerable around anyone- especially Pierce, but her emotions were up to the brim and she couldn't keep them inside anymore.
"Hey." Pierce put a hand on her shoulder, which Britta routinely shrugged off. He was comforting her, sure, but even Britta accepted that she was a guarded person and people touching her with emotionally sincere motivations was a part of that deal.
"Is-is that all? It's just a cat, Britta. Don't be such a girl about it. You have, what, a hundred more of them?" Just like that, Pierce was himself again, insulting her. Britta wasn't surprised, but she was still sensitive. It was times like these where she wondered why people were surprised she was a guarded person. Especially with the study group. Every time she opened herself up to share what she felt, somebody always shot her right down.