LUNA'S POV
I wake up with the comforting warmth of Sam's body pressed up against mine. Sighing with content, I gaze at the clock on the bedside table. 5:55. Another five minutes until her alarm goes off.
I reach out a hand to turn off the alarm before falling back down onto the bed. If anything, I might as well wake her myself. That'll be nice.
I gaze over at my girlfriend. She murmurs gently in slumber, twitching in an exciting dream. Her warm breath tickles my cheek, and a loose strand of hair falls onto her closed eye. I gently brush it aside, watching as Sam's nose twitches adorably.
What am I saying? There's no way that I can wake her; she's too cute.
I lie beside Sam as the minutes tick by. When the time reaches 6:00, I gently plant a kiss on Sam's forehead. The girl begins to stir and I hug her close to my chest.
Sam cracks an eye open blearily, smiling lovingly in my direction. She murmurs sleepily as she curls further into my embrace.
"Can I wake up to that every morning?" Sam whispers, and I chuckle, kissing her forehead.
"Maybe someday." I gush. "You know, when we're married." I relish in the way Sam beams enthusiastically (or at least as enthusiastically as one can smile when sleep deprived), her cheeks tinged crimson in the dawn light.
"I'd love that very much." She murmurs. I take Sam's hand in mine, kissing it lightly. Her skin is smooth and gentle under my lips.
"What time is it?" Sam asks groggily, making an effort to sit up. Evidently finished trying, Sam lies back down with defeat.
"A little after 6:00." I state. "Are you feeling alright?" I find myself asking as Sam's lips part in a large yawn.
"Yeah, just tired." She replies in the same groggy tone. I can't help but smile hearing it, for I know that I'm lying beside Sam during the earliest moments of the day.
"I can see why." I chuckle meekly. "You didn't fall asleep until, like, 12:00 last night." Sam seems barely aware that I had spoken, for she closes her eyes and snuggles against me.
Ugh, she's so cute. Well, I've gotta break the news to her at some point.
"Sam." I pipe up feebly as I nudge my girlfriend. She releases a half-hearted murmur to let me know that she's listening. "You've gotta get up, love." I chuckle, tucking a strand of hair behind Sam's hair. She smiles in my embrace.
"Ugh, I know." Sam mumbles while simultaneously groaning. Providing some support, I help Sam sit up, the poor girl almost falling back in a daze.
"Did you sleep at all last night?" I joke, and Sam shrugs meekly. "I don't know, honestly." She says. "My mind was kind of… full last night."
I nod to show my understanding while Sam leans against my shoulder. "Were these thoughts in the form of, like, nightmares?" I question with concern, fishing around in my brain for the right way to phrase the question.
Sam shakes her head slowly. "Not really…" She murmurs in a tired haze. "It was mostly a collection of thoughts bouncing around in my subconscious." She states.
I feel the urge to ask Sam what's nagging her, but the gentle fluttering of Sam's eyelids distract me. "C'mon, love." I murmur in my fake British accent as I gently jostle Sam. Sam smiles as she waves a submissive hand in my direction. "Alright, you win, love." She states, copying my accent.
Sam rises from the bed, stretching. Sauntering over to her dresser, she pulls a T-Shirt from the bowels of her drawer.
"Need to borrow clothes?" Sam asks as she flings some clothes behind her in response. However, she does so rather meekly, for her shirt falls short of the bed. Not bothered by Sam's company, I change within the bedroom, as does Sam.
Sam and I opted to take the bus this morning, much to Mrs. Sharp's relief, who, at that moment, had been stuffing a lunchbox in Simon's bag feverishly.
So, hand in hand, the two of us walk to the bus stop a couple blocks down, breathing in the crisp morning air. The frigid wind bites at my bare knees, which are exposed through a pair of Sam's ripped jeans. Sam caresses my hands gently with her thumb, eradicating all cold from my body.
Seeing how the two of us are equipped with guitars, it's a tight squeeze on the bus. Sam releases an occasional yawn during the ride, and I sympathetically rub the tired girl's back.
The only downside to Wednesday is that Sam and I have no classes together. So, by the time I met up with Sam at the Royal Rumble, the last six hours seemed to have taken a toll on her. Aside from the grogginess that comes after a long day, my girlfriend also radiates an aura of anxiety. I gently take Sam's hand in mine, feeling the clamminess of her skin.
What's going on?
Before I can form my thoughts into a coherent sentence, a short form approaches. It's Ms. Vaporciyan. I put off my questioning as the music teacher studies the two of us.
"Samantha, dear, how are you feeling?" Ms. V asks, cocking her head with curious concern. Sam nods, her hand clenching mine with tight desperation.
"I'm fine." Sam states. "Just a little nervous." I raise an imploring eyebrow at Sam's odd behavior. She doesn't seem to notice, seeing how her eyes are now trained to the ground, refusing to maintain eye contact with the both of us.
"Just so you know, dear, you are not pressured to partake in any of this. I was just aware of your talent." Ms. V says, her voice trailing off.
"I know, Ms. V. I want to do this." Sam states, flashing the music teacher a small, but rather genuine, smile. "But that doesn't change the fact that I'm a little nervous."
At the extent of my bewilderment, I give Sam's hand two quick squeezes. Attention no longer on Ms. V, Sam meets my concerned gaze. We exchange a few wordless expressions, and I silently question Sam with a raised eyebrow. Sam shakes her head feebly before following it up with a curt nod of her head. I'll tell you later, it states. I nod slowly before releasing Sam's hand as my way of drawing the conversation to a close.
During Royal Rumble rehearsals that afternoon, when it's evident that Michelle and Doug are preoccupied, I steal glances in Sam's direction. She's standing with Ms. V at the entrance to the band room, fidgeting with the hem of her denim jacket. The two of them are scanning a piece of sheet music, and although nervous, Sam looks undoubtedly transfixed by what's being presented to her. I plump back down in my seat, twiddling my thumbs exasperatedly.
"Hey, dude." A voice pipes up from beside me, and I feel a hand lightly rest on my shoulder. "You alright?" The owner of the voice-Alex-asks. I nod feebly in response.
I'm worried about Sam. I think thoughtfully, though I don't voice it aloud.
I try to steal another glance in Sam's direction, however, a thick cluster of students hinders my ability.
"I'm worried about Sam." I state, voicing my concern to Alex. I consider Sam's recent trepidation. I recall the way her clammy hands felt under mine; the groggy quality of her voice as she spoke of her cluttered mind to me.
"She's been rather… scared and nervous lately. I'm not entirely sure as to why." I state. Alex frowns contemplatively as they glide their hands across the glossy sheen of their ukulele. Its surface is riddled with stickers that they've collected over the years.
"All I can say is… allow her to take her time." Alex states. "She loves you, you know? She'll tell you sooner or later." They pat my shoulder reassuringly before returning to their task. I release a pained smile that Alex fails to notice, returning my attention back to my instrument.
A memory swims within my subconscious; Sam providing me that reassuring smile of hers as we squeeze hands.
She'll tell me. Of course she will.
"Shall I escort Samantha out, Nancy?" Michelle questions Ms. V with an air of snootiness. I perk up at the mention of Sam's name. No longer nervous regarding the many eyes around the room, I stand up to peer over the heads of my classmates. Michelle has a hand pressed to Sam's back, guiding her towards the door.
Acting upon instinct, my voice catches in my throat as I interject.
"No!" I cry, watching with increasing dread as Michelle's features harden suspiciously. The entire class stills, the eyes of everyone on me. I squirm uncomfortably at the unwanted attention.
"I-I mean…" I murmur, my voice faltering before ceasing altogether. I meet Sam's eyes; they are glazed over with evident concern.
"Is there a problem, Miss Loud?" Doug pipes up, and their twin expressions of pure loathing have me recoiling. I feel the overwhelming urge to wrench Sam's arm from Michelle's grasp, but Sam's pleading gaze has me halting in my tracks.
Finally, rather reluctantly, I slump down in my seat.
"Thought so." Is what Doug replies, and my ears burn with the heat of my anger and embarrassment. The eyes of my fellow classmates remain etched into my cranium, until, finally, they lose interest and return back to their musical endeavors.
"Dude, you're blushing like hell." Alex observes, doing nothing to quench my anxiety.
"Well, you're helpful." I grumble rather harshly, and I bite my lip as I await Alex's response. They don't reply, and I finally turn to look at them. Their eyes are downcast, occupying themselves in tuning their ukulele.
"I'm sorry, Alex." I murmur with a dry rasp. I experience a swell of relief as Alex looks up, sporting a weak smile. "You're alright." They reassure me before returning back to their task.
I swallow a particularly large lump in my throat. I tell myself to put my concern aside, cradling my Logan V80 Shredder and losing myself within the symphony of the class. I desperately hope it will distract me from all that's going on.
Another twenty minutes passes by, and I hear the dull creak of a chair beside me. Sam, having just returned, glances in my direction and provides me a weak smile.
"Hey, Luna." She greets me, releasing my from my momentary stupor.
"Oh, hey, Sam." I state sweetly, putting my instrument on hold. Sam watches with a fond sadness as I place my guitar to the side. I lean in, wrapping my girlfriend into a comforting hug. Sam reciprocates the affection, and I long for our contact to never end. Such events don't occur.
"What's this?"
Doug catches sight of our interaction, and is quick to intercept.
"Cuddling during school hours?" He asks sternly, placing his hands on his hips.
Fuming, I feel the overwhelming urge to tell him that, technically, it's not school hours, but I bite my tongue.
Gotta stay on his good side if I want to remain on the Royal Rumble.
Bottling down my emotions, I state, rather calmly, "Getting back to work, sir."
Doug narrows his eyes, his gaze remaining on the two of us for some time as he prepares to leave. We're not fast enough for his liking, however, for he approaches us again moments later.
As if to prove his point, he leers his face before mine, the smell of stale coffee lingering on his breath.
"You remove your hands from Miss Sharp right now. Do you hear me, Loud?" Doug asks through gritted teeth. I swallow hard as I watch Doug's piercing gaze reach my vise-like grip on Sam's arms. I slowly release my grip. Evidently satisfied, Doug nods before retreating away to, probably, yell at other students.
Maintaining my gaze on Doug, I wait for him to grow occupied before I look at Sam. I don't expect the reaction that I receive from her, and my heart splits at the scene before me.
Sam's eyes remain downcast, refusing to glance in my direction. What tears me most of all is the sadness within those eyes of hers. Tears, like plentiful reservoirs of water, swim within the surface of Sam's alluring eyes. Her bottom lip quivers greatly, suppressing her vast emotions.
"Hey," I coo gently, making a move to pull Sam into another hug. I recoil, however, upon recalling Doug's intolerance to such physical interaction. With the fear that he might be watching us at this moment, my hands remain floating, lifeless, before Sam's quivering figure.
"H-hey, don't cry." I murmur, trying-but failing-to provide Sam solace. Realizing that I may sound demanding, I quickly cease my "comforting". Floundering helplessly, I watch as Sam quickly wipes at her eyes, clearly ashamed and embarrassed.
A large part of me wants nothing more than to relieve my beautiful Sam of her pain, but a raging, internal battle ignites within me. Another part of me, ignited by today's events, wants nothing more than to strike Doug across the face with reckless abandon. I stifle the urge, however, knowing that such actions wouldn't benefit anyone.
I watch from the corner of my eye as Alex removes their headphones. Aware of what's happening, their eyes widen as they witness the state Sam's in.
"Sam, honey!" They gasp, leaping from their chair. They pull Sam into a hug, rocking the two of them.
Heart hammering loudly in my chest, I feel the compelling urge to tell them to snap out of it. I don't, however. I steal a quick glance in Doug's direction. Releasing a breathy sigh of relief, I notice that the judge is preoccupied with another student.
By the time I return by attention to my two band mates, they've disconnected their hug. No longer bothered by the whereabouts of Doug, my heart sinks.
Oh goodness… I'm such a terrible girlfriend, aren't I?
Wiping at her eyes one last time, Sam leans back in her seat beside me. Simultaneously, we share a glance.
"Hey…" I take the opportunity to speak. I begin the act of meekly rubbing my arm. "I'm… sorry." I murmur slowly, barely managing to form the words.
Sam smiles, albeit weakly. "Don't apologize, love." She murmurs. She then scans the surrounding area, searching for any watchful eyes. Satisfied, she swoops in, pecking my cheek.
"I'll tell you later tonight." Sam reassures me, and I nod, a shred of relief sinking in.
"So… it's a date? How about tonight at my house?" I ask.
Sam smiles her first genuine smile since that morning, grasping my hand tightly.
"It's a date."