To summary and stuff, see part one.
Author's note: A little angst in this part. If we're inside Sam's head we may as well see the bad side too. Thanks for all the reviews. And if you read this fic at the forum, you can still review it here since you didn't do it there... please...:P
I can't show Martin's feelings like I do with Sam. Since it's her POV, we only see what she sees and if she doesn't see Martin's feelings for her, we won't see it either... and about the dialogues it was my intention at first to keep it at minimum, only showing what was important to know. I can't do much about it now, coz I have this fic done... sorry :P but I hope you like it, anyway. :]
Martin and Sam forum @ destinedto.proboards26.com
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Part Three
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God, it was becoming almost unbearable, I was seriously crushing over him. I really was. A thought of love even crossed my mind, can you believe that? I'm not saying it was something bad, or… or sick, or unthinkable or whatever. It's just that... I don't know... Love... kind of a bit strong don't you think? I mean, love... it's an important word to be used randomly. It's just... I don't know...
Martin... He made me feel so good, like nothing bad had or would ever happen to me. He made me feel like I was at the top of everything, like I could do everything. He took the best out of me and nobody had ever done that before. He made me feel... complete, whole.
Just his presence was enough to give me hope, to make me feel as if everything had a solution, as if everything could end up well. He made me feel as if our cases weren't so bad like some of them actually were. He worked with such passion and devotion that made me believe we would find every missing person and give them back to their family. He made me forget that in the end I would leave and go home, a place where I would be alone when the only thing I wanted was the night to end and I went back to work, where I'd find him again.
All I wanted was to hear his voice, hear the melody from it that could only be heard from my own ears. I wanted that smile only he gave me to form across my face. I longed to see him soon than I should. I wanted to see his handsome face and feel the warmth it sent through my body.
I wanted to be with him if even for a moment.
* * *
"Do you think he killed her?" I asked without taking my eyes away from he glass window, where our suspect was.
John Meyer kidnapped Arleen Carter due to his 'infinite' love for her but she didn't want anything with him. John was so in love with her he took her from her home and turned Arleen into his hostage girlfriend, forcing her to live his maniacal fantasy of perfect life and now that they had caught him, John was refusing to say where Arleen was.
"I don't know." Martin was standing beside me, looking through the glass too. "I think he wouldn't harm her because of his feelings, but at the same time I think he would do anything to keep her with him and be all his."
I quickly glanced at him, scanning his profile. "Do you think there is such a strong love like this?"
He shrugged, didn't look at me. "I don't know, but I hope so." Then he smiled and I sensed it somehow, and I smiled too. "But I sure wouldn't force someone to love. He should have done the right thing."
"The right thing?" I asked, really curious this time. I turned to him and rested my side on the glass, crossing my arms in front of my chest. I wanted to know what was the right thing to him, if he was the romantic kind or which one he was.
He looked at me with twinkles in his eyes as tough he was proud of what he was going to say. "You know, sent flowers, asked her out, he should've done nice things."
"He did that."
"He didn't. He was too possessive and sticky; no one likes that. He should have done nice things and if she didn't respond, waited for her until she was ready. If she never came to her senses, then she wasn't for him."
Oh my. Did he really say that? So, Martin was definitely the romantic kind. How sweet. His words were really sweet and somehow, in a strange way, they comforted me, they warmed my heart and sent a welcoming peace to it. Strange, huh?
He shrugged embarrassed and looked away from me. "But that's just my visions of things."
"Well, it's really sweet what you said. A girl would be lucky to have you." Sweet Lord. Did I just say that? Humm.... oops.... slipped out of my mouth? Holy crap, there must be a way to undo this! There have to be.
"Thank you." Ok, so, I had no time to think about something before he could say his thanks. But it seemed I did something right. It's amazing how, without noticing or thinking you say just the right thing.
"You're... humm, welcome." It was my turn to become shy. God, was I blushing?? I felt my cheeks burning and it could only be blush. For the very first time he made me blush. I didn't know what else to do or say, I just had to find a way to hide my face until me cheeks were with their normal color again. To my ever present luck, me cell phone rang, giving me a reason to turn away from him.
* * *
His eyes were so soft and his face was so relaxed. I couldn't stop looking at him, well... staring... as we sat across each other on the conference table, papers scattered all around us. We were still trying to find Arleen, using every kind of clues we had up to that moment. John still hadn't told us anything, neither if she was alive or dead.
I couldn't stop looking. I just couldn't. Every time my eyes went up to him I tried to bring them down but they were failed attempts, for my eyes went back to him seconds later. I swear I really tried to focus on my job but it was really hard when Martin was around. And then there was his smell. Oh my God, that smell. His scent was wonderful and pleasant; it was a kind of smell you want to have right under your nose to feel it all the time.
I don't know how he didn't notice, how he hadn't looked up at me yet. I mean, it was so ridiculous. I was just sitting there, across from Martin and gazing at him. I watched as he went through some papers reading them, then ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily as his eyes slowly closed. I looked down at my own papers and tried at least to pretend I was reading but my eyes insisted to go back to him.
Suddenly he looked up, directly at me and I brought my eyes down as quickly as I could. Yup, he had finally sensed me looking at him. I stayed like that for a few moments then when I thought he wasn't looking anymore I looked back at him.
"What?" It came from Martin, his eyes down on his papers. He hadn't even looked at me to make sure I was staring at him.
"Nothing." I muttered, my voice was so down I thought only me had heard. He didn't say anything else and I think he kept on doing his work. At least one of us was.
The next time I looked up I was caught by surprise to see Martin looking at me first. Our eyes met and I felt something shaking in my belly. I felt my heart fluttering and all the feelings rushing back inside me as he looked at me and didn't speak a single word. He tilted his head to the side as if asking me something, there was this gleam in his eyes that made them shine even more, his beautiful blue eyes were shinning to me and only me.
"What is it?"
"... Nothing...?" I half stated half asked, well, one of the two would be the answer.
He shook his head and leaned in over the table, closer to me. "There is something in my hair?" He joked, maybe to alleviate whatever tension could be there.
I smiled. "Like your hair was long enough to have something in it."
He chuckled and kept looking at me. He just wouldn't stop looking at me. "So what is it?"
For some reason we were speaking so softly and somewhere along our conversation I had leaned in the table too and we were even closer. I bit my lip not sure of what to say to him, I hesitated for a while and finally something came out. "You just... looked cute."
He put on a surprised smile and narrowed his eyes. "Cute?"
Ok, now my hands were sweating and shaking and all the butterflies were there. I started twisting my hands nervously in a failed attempt to stop them from shaking and bent my head down. I couldn't look him in the eye right now. I tried to speak, but no words came out. I tried again and nothing... I shrugged then. If you are in a lack of words, a body movement is your best way out.
"Well, you're really cute, too."
My head snapped up, my eyes right into his. He said I was cute? I felt a big happy smile spread across my face. See what he does to me? Just because of a simple word, one that had come out of his very mouth, made me melt completely dumb, made me smile like a stupid teenager. He made me feel like I was a teen again. I felt myself blushing again. Sweet Jesus. That was the second time in one single day.
I smiled at him and he smiled at me. His smile, it meant something, it started something. I felt that right at that minute it all began.
* * *
"Do you feel different?"
I shrugged not really caring about what she was saying. Therapy. The word gives me the creeps. I hated that I had to go to this sessions when I could very well be with Martin, having drinks somewhere instead of being here talking about my life with... her. "He said I am."
"So, you must be different for someone noticing it."
"In a good way, I hope." I practically repeated the same words I had told Jack a while ago.
"It depends on your vision of good."
I glanced at Lisa, I'm sure my face held a serious expression. I was twisting my hands again. I hate that, I hate to feel so vulnerable, to feel without control. I played with the tip of my nails and fingers, a very well known way to free some of the tension. It was months already that I was seeing her but I still didn't felt comfortable enough to open myself the way she wanted.
"And there is a wrong kind of good?" I asked quietly, my eyes now down on my hands.
"We could say so."
I kind of smiled confused. Shouldn't she help me to figure things out instead of putting confused thoughts in my head? "Such as?"
"Such as..." She thought about one example; the silence while she did so was very welcoming. "Honesty. It's a good thing to be honest but when you are too honest you may end up hurting someone. Or like freedom. When you give too much freedom to someone it can end up causing harm."
"So, you mean that too much is a bad thing?"
"Basically. When you want too much you may end up with nothing."
"When you want something, when you wish something it is always too much. Young people dream with a lot of things, so this means it's a waste of time to dream? It isn't worth it? You mean they shouldn't want things because if they want too much they will most likely end up with nothing?" I started to ramble on and on. I didn't really wanted to say so much but it's like the words were just coming out. "So I don't need to worry about anything because I have nothing already, just to begin with..."
"Samantha." She put a hand up trying to catch my attention but when I didn't stop talking she called my name louder. "SAMANTHA." I stopped and brought my eyes from my hands to her. "There is no need for a defensive attitude. No one is attacking you." She said softly, her words cautious and soft, as if she was talking to a child.
See? I hate this. I just hate coming here. I hate talking to her. I hate all of this. I hate to talk about my life, about what I do and what I think. This was supposed to be personal. Every time I came here I always lost sleep because I stayed all night thinking on and on about what she said and things that eventually crossed my mind. And I hated to think about lots of things because it made me depressed. I hated to think about how lonely my life was, how empty I felt.
And most important, how I felt about someone and hadn't the courage to say anything to him.
Sometimes I just feel as if I'm about to explode.
* * *
I felt salty drops running down my cheeks and wetting my lips. I leaned back heavily on the wood door of my apartment and let my tears ran freely over my face, dimming my eyes and wetting my skin. I didn't want really to cry but at the same time I felt the necessity to do so, to let everything out of my body, to easy my mind.
I slid along the wood until I had ended sitting on the floor, my keys dropped from my hand to the floor next to me. I bent my legs and brought my knees closer to my chest and with my hands covering my wetted face, I leaned my head on my knees.
I felt so bad, so, so incapacitated. Suddenly a sob escaped my mouth and using the opportunity, other followed and then another. I was crying so hard to the point of having big and breath taking sobs. I tried to stop them but they were just too stronger than I was and my cry was harder than what I could stop.
I felt like I was made of shit, like I was a garbage can and was full of filth. Like I worth nothing and my life was just a waste. I always felt like that after my sessions. It was weird because she was supposed to make me feel better, that our talk was supposed to make me feel better. But it didn't, it never made me feel good with myself because she made me think about things I didn't want, things I wanted to have and I needed, but I didn't.
Eventually my sobs slowly stopped and my cry slowly faded away. Although, I stayed sitting on the floor, my hands covering my face. I just wanted some peace, some comfort. I told my therapist once that my work was my life, just because I actually didn't have a personal life, I have nothing other than my job. But it didn't mean I wanted it to be like that.
I felt so weak, so handicapped. I hated that too. I didn't want to feel weak; I didn't really need that. What I wanted to feel was… whole. There was this missing piece inside of me and without it, I wasn't fully complete. I needed something to the pain, something to bring me up when I fell, something to keep me looking ahead when all that had was shit behind me. All this shit pushing me down more and more. I really needed something to pull me up.
Or somebody...
* * *
I couldn't sleep. As much as I tried I just couldn't sleep. I think the little breakdown earlier had really affected me this time.
I laid in my bed, my head throbbing and pulsating. I was a complete mess, both emotionally and mentally. The streetlights provided clarity enough to form shadows in my bedroom, causing random pictures here and there. I pulled my blanket up to under my chin, tightening it around my body and stayed looking up at the white ceiling.
I had taken a warm bath and two pills of aspirin before going to bed and though the bath helped me to relax physically, neither it nor the aspirin could make my headache go away. I felt like crying again but this time, with more control over my body, I was able to keep the tears at bay.
Still I couldn't sleep.
I rubbed my eyes and turned so I was laying on my side. I tried to snuggle into my pillows and blanket thinking that maybe if I was comfortable enough sleep would come quicker and easier. Bull. If anything I was even more awake. My eyes were burning now due to the tears I was holding back and this time I couldn't stop a couple of them from running down my cheeks.
I furiously wiped them away with more force than was necessary, causing my skin to burn from the impact of my hands. "Goddamn it." I whispered. I seriously didn't need to feel like that. I didn't. There was enough shit in my life to make it complicated and difficult. And I didn't even have a real personal life, so you can imagine.
Every thing was too silent, especially to New York, even if it was almost midnight. I sighed deeply and closed my eyes. After several tossing's and turning's I knew sleep would come eventually.
* * *
"You look like hell."
I silently sighed and looked up with a halfhearted smile on my lips. "Thank you, Martin. You're so incredible nice."
He didn't buy my not so joke… joke. "No, seriously." He took the nearest chair and set it beside mine at my desk, then sat, his eyes searching mine. I looked quickly at him and regretted it because this move gave Martin enough information. "Have you been crying?" He asked, his voice honestly concerned.
Yes, I have been crying. A wave of sadness suddenly came inside me and I felt like crying. I felt like something really bad had happened to me. I excused myself from Viv and ran to the bathroom, locking myself in there as quickly as I could before I made a scene in the middle of the FBI. I didn't breakdown like yesterday but a few tears still found their away out of my eyes. I was feeling so depressed lately anything was a motive to make me sad and want to cry.
"No." I said instead. I was proud of myself to have such a steady and strong voice right now, way more than I was feeling. I was falling apart inside.
He put a gentle hand on my shoulder. I felt it stiffening and relaxing again, as if he was struggling with himself, then his hand reached up and put a rebel lock of my hair behind my ear. I think he believed this would make me look at him, but I didn't, so he had no other option than to ask me so. "Sam, look at me."
With his hand still on me, softly resting on my cheek sending a strength I didn't know was possible, I turned my face and when I did so our gaze, eyes melt together. He stared at me for quite a while, waiting for me to say something I guess, his eyes never leaving mine. It was as if he was studying me, trying to discover what was upsetting me so much, since I didn't speak a word.
With no words needed, he just reached out and his arms enveloped me in a warm and comforting hug. I let myself enjoy this new found pleasure and buried my face in his neck, his smell strong as ever and right into my nose. One of his hands was on my head stroking my hair and the other was mapping small circles on my back.
Holy mother of God. I'd never even imagine his touch could be so soothing and good and comforting. I'd never thought being in his arms could be this wonderful. While he embraced me I was lost in my own happy world, just letting the feelings I had for him overwhelm me. He felt so good in my arms, so perfect. I wanted to take him, kiss him right there.
"Therapy going pretty well, huh?" Him whispering that in my ear sent an electric chill throughout my body.
I softly laughed, my breath in his neck. "Tell me about it." I said, finally pulling back.
He didn't take his hand off of my face, and kept caressing its skin softly, just staring at me for a long while. It was like time had frozen and everyone else in the world had disappeared and there were only us there. The way he looked at me was stunning. He held such care in his eyes... it was just too much sometimes.
But not this time. No, this time I welcomed him with my own eyes; somehow they spoke with his and let a silent agreement between us. His hand on my face was almost making me lost, his intense gaze was almost making me open up completely, making me want to talk to him about my feelings, about everything that was upsetting me. But I couldn't. It was just too soon. Well, and I didn't have enough courage to do so.
Funny, I always called myself fearless Samantha, the one who didn't have fear of anything, the one who could do anything. Funny how you needed just a small thing to change all your life. "Thanks." I whispered, having strength enough to tear my eyes from his.
He narrowed his eyes in confusion and smiled playfully. Oh my god, that cute smile I loved so much. I started to melt again. "For what?"
I shrugged not really sure of what to say. "Just for... just thanks." My eyes were down, staring at my hands, I'm not sure why. I mean, a handsome man right in front of me and suddenly my eyes decide my hands were an important thing to look at.
When I was going to look at him again, he did it for me first. The hand on my face went to my chin, his fingers gently turning me to face him. "I'm always going to be there." He whispered to me. "It doesn't matter when you need me or what you need me for, I'll always be there for you. Always. The only way I'm going is if you want me to. You just need to say so."
I squinted my eyes trying to hide back the tears that slowly were forming in my eyes. I blinked several time to stop them and was very well successful, well, not completely because the contour under my eyes were a little wet and they were probably red, but it was a start. "I don't want you to go." Ok, so I wasn't all that successful because my voice was trembling and teary.
"So I won't go."
I nodded, my voice now too weak to come out. Suddenly, without asking for permission a small, tiny sob escaped my lips. It made no real noise other than a small puff of air and tremble of lips, but it was enough to make Martin hug me again.
I let my arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to me, needing to feel his warmth and take some of his strength. I really needed some. He hugged me tightly and softly, all at the same time and after a while he pulled away.
"Do you want to go somewhere? You seriously need to talk and I'm here if you want."
I nodded again. Now I had more control over my tears and they stopped forcing exit. His hand left my cheek to take my own hand and pulled me up from my chair as he did the same. He didn't take his hand away from mine and I was grateful for that because I really needed his touch right now.
* * *
End of part three. Yay! Review, please
Author's note: A little angst in this part. If we're inside Sam's head we may as well see the bad side too. Thanks for all the reviews. And if you read this fic at the forum, you can still review it here since you didn't do it there... please...:P
I can't show Martin's feelings like I do with Sam. Since it's her POV, we only see what she sees and if she doesn't see Martin's feelings for her, we won't see it either... and about the dialogues it was my intention at first to keep it at minimum, only showing what was important to know. I can't do much about it now, coz I have this fic done... sorry :P but I hope you like it, anyway. :]
Martin and Sam forum @ destinedto.proboards26.com
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Part Three
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God, it was becoming almost unbearable, I was seriously crushing over him. I really was. A thought of love even crossed my mind, can you believe that? I'm not saying it was something bad, or… or sick, or unthinkable or whatever. It's just that... I don't know... Love... kind of a bit strong don't you think? I mean, love... it's an important word to be used randomly. It's just... I don't know...
Martin... He made me feel so good, like nothing bad had or would ever happen to me. He made me feel like I was at the top of everything, like I could do everything. He took the best out of me and nobody had ever done that before. He made me feel... complete, whole.
Just his presence was enough to give me hope, to make me feel as if everything had a solution, as if everything could end up well. He made me feel as if our cases weren't so bad like some of them actually were. He worked with such passion and devotion that made me believe we would find every missing person and give them back to their family. He made me forget that in the end I would leave and go home, a place where I would be alone when the only thing I wanted was the night to end and I went back to work, where I'd find him again.
All I wanted was to hear his voice, hear the melody from it that could only be heard from my own ears. I wanted that smile only he gave me to form across my face. I longed to see him soon than I should. I wanted to see his handsome face and feel the warmth it sent through my body.
I wanted to be with him if even for a moment.
* * *
"Do you think he killed her?" I asked without taking my eyes away from he glass window, where our suspect was.
John Meyer kidnapped Arleen Carter due to his 'infinite' love for her but she didn't want anything with him. John was so in love with her he took her from her home and turned Arleen into his hostage girlfriend, forcing her to live his maniacal fantasy of perfect life and now that they had caught him, John was refusing to say where Arleen was.
"I don't know." Martin was standing beside me, looking through the glass too. "I think he wouldn't harm her because of his feelings, but at the same time I think he would do anything to keep her with him and be all his."
I quickly glanced at him, scanning his profile. "Do you think there is such a strong love like this?"
He shrugged, didn't look at me. "I don't know, but I hope so." Then he smiled and I sensed it somehow, and I smiled too. "But I sure wouldn't force someone to love. He should have done the right thing."
"The right thing?" I asked, really curious this time. I turned to him and rested my side on the glass, crossing my arms in front of my chest. I wanted to know what was the right thing to him, if he was the romantic kind or which one he was.
He looked at me with twinkles in his eyes as tough he was proud of what he was going to say. "You know, sent flowers, asked her out, he should've done nice things."
"He did that."
"He didn't. He was too possessive and sticky; no one likes that. He should have done nice things and if she didn't respond, waited for her until she was ready. If she never came to her senses, then she wasn't for him."
Oh my. Did he really say that? So, Martin was definitely the romantic kind. How sweet. His words were really sweet and somehow, in a strange way, they comforted me, they warmed my heart and sent a welcoming peace to it. Strange, huh?
He shrugged embarrassed and looked away from me. "But that's just my visions of things."
"Well, it's really sweet what you said. A girl would be lucky to have you." Sweet Lord. Did I just say that? Humm.... oops.... slipped out of my mouth? Holy crap, there must be a way to undo this! There have to be.
"Thank you." Ok, so, I had no time to think about something before he could say his thanks. But it seemed I did something right. It's amazing how, without noticing or thinking you say just the right thing.
"You're... humm, welcome." It was my turn to become shy. God, was I blushing?? I felt my cheeks burning and it could only be blush. For the very first time he made me blush. I didn't know what else to do or say, I just had to find a way to hide my face until me cheeks were with their normal color again. To my ever present luck, me cell phone rang, giving me a reason to turn away from him.
* * *
His eyes were so soft and his face was so relaxed. I couldn't stop looking at him, well... staring... as we sat across each other on the conference table, papers scattered all around us. We were still trying to find Arleen, using every kind of clues we had up to that moment. John still hadn't told us anything, neither if she was alive or dead.
I couldn't stop looking. I just couldn't. Every time my eyes went up to him I tried to bring them down but they were failed attempts, for my eyes went back to him seconds later. I swear I really tried to focus on my job but it was really hard when Martin was around. And then there was his smell. Oh my God, that smell. His scent was wonderful and pleasant; it was a kind of smell you want to have right under your nose to feel it all the time.
I don't know how he didn't notice, how he hadn't looked up at me yet. I mean, it was so ridiculous. I was just sitting there, across from Martin and gazing at him. I watched as he went through some papers reading them, then ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily as his eyes slowly closed. I looked down at my own papers and tried at least to pretend I was reading but my eyes insisted to go back to him.
Suddenly he looked up, directly at me and I brought my eyes down as quickly as I could. Yup, he had finally sensed me looking at him. I stayed like that for a few moments then when I thought he wasn't looking anymore I looked back at him.
"What?" It came from Martin, his eyes down on his papers. He hadn't even looked at me to make sure I was staring at him.
"Nothing." I muttered, my voice was so down I thought only me had heard. He didn't say anything else and I think he kept on doing his work. At least one of us was.
The next time I looked up I was caught by surprise to see Martin looking at me first. Our eyes met and I felt something shaking in my belly. I felt my heart fluttering and all the feelings rushing back inside me as he looked at me and didn't speak a single word. He tilted his head to the side as if asking me something, there was this gleam in his eyes that made them shine even more, his beautiful blue eyes were shinning to me and only me.
"What is it?"
"... Nothing...?" I half stated half asked, well, one of the two would be the answer.
He shook his head and leaned in over the table, closer to me. "There is something in my hair?" He joked, maybe to alleviate whatever tension could be there.
I smiled. "Like your hair was long enough to have something in it."
He chuckled and kept looking at me. He just wouldn't stop looking at me. "So what is it?"
For some reason we were speaking so softly and somewhere along our conversation I had leaned in the table too and we were even closer. I bit my lip not sure of what to say to him, I hesitated for a while and finally something came out. "You just... looked cute."
He put on a surprised smile and narrowed his eyes. "Cute?"
Ok, now my hands were sweating and shaking and all the butterflies were there. I started twisting my hands nervously in a failed attempt to stop them from shaking and bent my head down. I couldn't look him in the eye right now. I tried to speak, but no words came out. I tried again and nothing... I shrugged then. If you are in a lack of words, a body movement is your best way out.
"Well, you're really cute, too."
My head snapped up, my eyes right into his. He said I was cute? I felt a big happy smile spread across my face. See what he does to me? Just because of a simple word, one that had come out of his very mouth, made me melt completely dumb, made me smile like a stupid teenager. He made me feel like I was a teen again. I felt myself blushing again. Sweet Jesus. That was the second time in one single day.
I smiled at him and he smiled at me. His smile, it meant something, it started something. I felt that right at that minute it all began.
* * *
"Do you feel different?"
I shrugged not really caring about what she was saying. Therapy. The word gives me the creeps. I hated that I had to go to this sessions when I could very well be with Martin, having drinks somewhere instead of being here talking about my life with... her. "He said I am."
"So, you must be different for someone noticing it."
"In a good way, I hope." I practically repeated the same words I had told Jack a while ago.
"It depends on your vision of good."
I glanced at Lisa, I'm sure my face held a serious expression. I was twisting my hands again. I hate that, I hate to feel so vulnerable, to feel without control. I played with the tip of my nails and fingers, a very well known way to free some of the tension. It was months already that I was seeing her but I still didn't felt comfortable enough to open myself the way she wanted.
"And there is a wrong kind of good?" I asked quietly, my eyes now down on my hands.
"We could say so."
I kind of smiled confused. Shouldn't she help me to figure things out instead of putting confused thoughts in my head? "Such as?"
"Such as..." She thought about one example; the silence while she did so was very welcoming. "Honesty. It's a good thing to be honest but when you are too honest you may end up hurting someone. Or like freedom. When you give too much freedom to someone it can end up causing harm."
"So, you mean that too much is a bad thing?"
"Basically. When you want too much you may end up with nothing."
"When you want something, when you wish something it is always too much. Young people dream with a lot of things, so this means it's a waste of time to dream? It isn't worth it? You mean they shouldn't want things because if they want too much they will most likely end up with nothing?" I started to ramble on and on. I didn't really wanted to say so much but it's like the words were just coming out. "So I don't need to worry about anything because I have nothing already, just to begin with..."
"Samantha." She put a hand up trying to catch my attention but when I didn't stop talking she called my name louder. "SAMANTHA." I stopped and brought my eyes from my hands to her. "There is no need for a defensive attitude. No one is attacking you." She said softly, her words cautious and soft, as if she was talking to a child.
See? I hate this. I just hate coming here. I hate talking to her. I hate all of this. I hate to talk about my life, about what I do and what I think. This was supposed to be personal. Every time I came here I always lost sleep because I stayed all night thinking on and on about what she said and things that eventually crossed my mind. And I hated to think about lots of things because it made me depressed. I hated to think about how lonely my life was, how empty I felt.
And most important, how I felt about someone and hadn't the courage to say anything to him.
Sometimes I just feel as if I'm about to explode.
* * *
I felt salty drops running down my cheeks and wetting my lips. I leaned back heavily on the wood door of my apartment and let my tears ran freely over my face, dimming my eyes and wetting my skin. I didn't want really to cry but at the same time I felt the necessity to do so, to let everything out of my body, to easy my mind.
I slid along the wood until I had ended sitting on the floor, my keys dropped from my hand to the floor next to me. I bent my legs and brought my knees closer to my chest and with my hands covering my wetted face, I leaned my head on my knees.
I felt so bad, so, so incapacitated. Suddenly a sob escaped my mouth and using the opportunity, other followed and then another. I was crying so hard to the point of having big and breath taking sobs. I tried to stop them but they were just too stronger than I was and my cry was harder than what I could stop.
I felt like I was made of shit, like I was a garbage can and was full of filth. Like I worth nothing and my life was just a waste. I always felt like that after my sessions. It was weird because she was supposed to make me feel better, that our talk was supposed to make me feel better. But it didn't, it never made me feel good with myself because she made me think about things I didn't want, things I wanted to have and I needed, but I didn't.
Eventually my sobs slowly stopped and my cry slowly faded away. Although, I stayed sitting on the floor, my hands covering my face. I just wanted some peace, some comfort. I told my therapist once that my work was my life, just because I actually didn't have a personal life, I have nothing other than my job. But it didn't mean I wanted it to be like that.
I felt so weak, so handicapped. I hated that too. I didn't want to feel weak; I didn't really need that. What I wanted to feel was… whole. There was this missing piece inside of me and without it, I wasn't fully complete. I needed something to the pain, something to bring me up when I fell, something to keep me looking ahead when all that had was shit behind me. All this shit pushing me down more and more. I really needed something to pull me up.
Or somebody...
* * *
I couldn't sleep. As much as I tried I just couldn't sleep. I think the little breakdown earlier had really affected me this time.
I laid in my bed, my head throbbing and pulsating. I was a complete mess, both emotionally and mentally. The streetlights provided clarity enough to form shadows in my bedroom, causing random pictures here and there. I pulled my blanket up to under my chin, tightening it around my body and stayed looking up at the white ceiling.
I had taken a warm bath and two pills of aspirin before going to bed and though the bath helped me to relax physically, neither it nor the aspirin could make my headache go away. I felt like crying again but this time, with more control over my body, I was able to keep the tears at bay.
Still I couldn't sleep.
I rubbed my eyes and turned so I was laying on my side. I tried to snuggle into my pillows and blanket thinking that maybe if I was comfortable enough sleep would come quicker and easier. Bull. If anything I was even more awake. My eyes were burning now due to the tears I was holding back and this time I couldn't stop a couple of them from running down my cheeks.
I furiously wiped them away with more force than was necessary, causing my skin to burn from the impact of my hands. "Goddamn it." I whispered. I seriously didn't need to feel like that. I didn't. There was enough shit in my life to make it complicated and difficult. And I didn't even have a real personal life, so you can imagine.
Every thing was too silent, especially to New York, even if it was almost midnight. I sighed deeply and closed my eyes. After several tossing's and turning's I knew sleep would come eventually.
* * *
"You look like hell."
I silently sighed and looked up with a halfhearted smile on my lips. "Thank you, Martin. You're so incredible nice."
He didn't buy my not so joke… joke. "No, seriously." He took the nearest chair and set it beside mine at my desk, then sat, his eyes searching mine. I looked quickly at him and regretted it because this move gave Martin enough information. "Have you been crying?" He asked, his voice honestly concerned.
Yes, I have been crying. A wave of sadness suddenly came inside me and I felt like crying. I felt like something really bad had happened to me. I excused myself from Viv and ran to the bathroom, locking myself in there as quickly as I could before I made a scene in the middle of the FBI. I didn't breakdown like yesterday but a few tears still found their away out of my eyes. I was feeling so depressed lately anything was a motive to make me sad and want to cry.
"No." I said instead. I was proud of myself to have such a steady and strong voice right now, way more than I was feeling. I was falling apart inside.
He put a gentle hand on my shoulder. I felt it stiffening and relaxing again, as if he was struggling with himself, then his hand reached up and put a rebel lock of my hair behind my ear. I think he believed this would make me look at him, but I didn't, so he had no other option than to ask me so. "Sam, look at me."
With his hand still on me, softly resting on my cheek sending a strength I didn't know was possible, I turned my face and when I did so our gaze, eyes melt together. He stared at me for quite a while, waiting for me to say something I guess, his eyes never leaving mine. It was as if he was studying me, trying to discover what was upsetting me so much, since I didn't speak a word.
With no words needed, he just reached out and his arms enveloped me in a warm and comforting hug. I let myself enjoy this new found pleasure and buried my face in his neck, his smell strong as ever and right into my nose. One of his hands was on my head stroking my hair and the other was mapping small circles on my back.
Holy mother of God. I'd never even imagine his touch could be so soothing and good and comforting. I'd never thought being in his arms could be this wonderful. While he embraced me I was lost in my own happy world, just letting the feelings I had for him overwhelm me. He felt so good in my arms, so perfect. I wanted to take him, kiss him right there.
"Therapy going pretty well, huh?" Him whispering that in my ear sent an electric chill throughout my body.
I softly laughed, my breath in his neck. "Tell me about it." I said, finally pulling back.
He didn't take his hand off of my face, and kept caressing its skin softly, just staring at me for a long while. It was like time had frozen and everyone else in the world had disappeared and there were only us there. The way he looked at me was stunning. He held such care in his eyes... it was just too much sometimes.
But not this time. No, this time I welcomed him with my own eyes; somehow they spoke with his and let a silent agreement between us. His hand on my face was almost making me lost, his intense gaze was almost making me open up completely, making me want to talk to him about my feelings, about everything that was upsetting me. But I couldn't. It was just too soon. Well, and I didn't have enough courage to do so.
Funny, I always called myself fearless Samantha, the one who didn't have fear of anything, the one who could do anything. Funny how you needed just a small thing to change all your life. "Thanks." I whispered, having strength enough to tear my eyes from his.
He narrowed his eyes in confusion and smiled playfully. Oh my god, that cute smile I loved so much. I started to melt again. "For what?"
I shrugged not really sure of what to say. "Just for... just thanks." My eyes were down, staring at my hands, I'm not sure why. I mean, a handsome man right in front of me and suddenly my eyes decide my hands were an important thing to look at.
When I was going to look at him again, he did it for me first. The hand on my face went to my chin, his fingers gently turning me to face him. "I'm always going to be there." He whispered to me. "It doesn't matter when you need me or what you need me for, I'll always be there for you. Always. The only way I'm going is if you want me to. You just need to say so."
I squinted my eyes trying to hide back the tears that slowly were forming in my eyes. I blinked several time to stop them and was very well successful, well, not completely because the contour under my eyes were a little wet and they were probably red, but it was a start. "I don't want you to go." Ok, so I wasn't all that successful because my voice was trembling and teary.
"So I won't go."
I nodded, my voice now too weak to come out. Suddenly, without asking for permission a small, tiny sob escaped my lips. It made no real noise other than a small puff of air and tremble of lips, but it was enough to make Martin hug me again.
I let my arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to me, needing to feel his warmth and take some of his strength. I really needed some. He hugged me tightly and softly, all at the same time and after a while he pulled away.
"Do you want to go somewhere? You seriously need to talk and I'm here if you want."
I nodded again. Now I had more control over my tears and they stopped forcing exit. His hand left my cheek to take my own hand and pulled me up from my chair as he did the same. He didn't take his hand away from mine and I was grateful for that because I really needed his touch right now.
* * *
End of part three. Yay! Review, please