Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or canon story, those are intellectual property of Ryan Murphy
A/N: N/A
Prompt: Pep
Sam hated being mushy. There was no reason for it. With two such passionate, confident, intelligent, demanding people, you'd think she wouldn't be tempted to stoop to buying a dozen roses, writing some dopey love sonnet like she had done in middle school.
Not that there was anything wrong with poetry, or romance in general. On the contrary, showering Brooke in roses, whispering French seductions between kisses (of the same nationality), candlelit dinners; she was sure such clichés had some clout to their claims.
She just couldn't stand the way her heart felt shaky and her hands felt unsure as she walked up to Brooke, bouquet in hand. In all the scenes she'd played out in her head, she had strode up confidently, practically sweeping Brooke off her feet, whispering some (admittedly cheesy) confession, and they had waltzed off to a bedroom for an endless night of excellent lesbian sex.
But now, as she approached the target of her affections she wondered if she was doing it wrong. Recent lunch table conversations had yielded talk of spontaneity and simple honesty being the most romantic thing. She should do something else, something less prepared, something that she didn't have to do right now while her nerves were acting up. No, it wasn't like it was Valentine's Day or anything, she was being spontaneous. She shook her head, clearing it of reservations, preparing it for the pep talk her confidence had prepared.
You're Sam Goddamn McPherson! Grow some balls, woman! Brooke McQueen is dating you, and you have every right in the world to be spontaneously, sickly romantic with her.'
She breathed out all her tension, set her jaw, and strode up to Brooke, roses hidden behind her back.
"Brooke, I have something for you." In her mind, Sam had sorta done something more smooth than unceremoniously force the bouquet into Brooke's hands, but she supposed she'd have to make do.
"Wha-? Aww, how sweet!" The flowers spread a wide eyed smile across Brooke's face, though moments later her eyes narrowed in half joking suspicion. "What is this for, what do you want?"
"I just felt like it." Her eyes and poise wandered off momentarily, but were quickly regained along with her trademark smirk. "And all I want…" she paused methodically, closing all but a few hot, tempting millimeters between her and Brooke, and let all of her lust drop into her final two words, "Is you."
Brooke's lips dropped into a shocked "O" just before being captured by Sam's demanding mouth. The shock of how ridiculously hot her girlfriend had been gave her a few moments pause before she melted, acquiescing to Sam's dominating kisses, body reverberating with the husky, overpowering sexiness that had just rendered her thought processing capabilities useless.
The roses lay on the lovely white carpet, forgotten, idly looking up at the soft grey couch, where a truer definition of romance was being coined.