Chapter four
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Spoiler: Mentions of 'The Bus'
Disclaimer: I wish I owned something… Even if I did I wouldn't be so creative to make any money of it.
Author's note: Thank you so much all the reviews, you guys make me feel loved, really ;] It's so good to check the site and see all the good things you guys said about my work. It sucks I know, but, anyway, you find a minute to stop what you're doing to read my lousy job and even review it.
~~~~*~~~~
There she was, sitting at her desk, finishing her report with such hurry and determination that she had never felt before, just because she didn't want to bring work home. She would need all the time to get ready for tonight as possible. She'd have felt stupid if it wasn't for Martin's own hurry and nervousness. Ha ha, that was a funny one. She never thought of Martin being one of getting nervous on a date . . . she had to laugh at that.
Every time she glanced up to distract herself from her papers for a few seconds, she would see Martin working hard on his own report papers, probably having the same line of thought, not wanting to bring work home either. Sometimes he'd lean back on his chair and run a hand over the back of his neck, rubbing some of the tension off and would look up, their eyes meeting for a brief second, making each one smile shyly and making Sam looks down, blushing a little.
And the day went by just like that, the occasional looks, the blushes - but only on Sam's part, she didn't see Martin getting shy once - the smiles and a single wave of hand. Once, Martin had discretely shook his finger and what she believed was a wave, making her smile again as if they knew a secret no one else did - which was the case at the moment - she had look around to see if any one was seeing that little move and she wanted to kick herself.
"This is NOT Jack," she told herself harshly. She had to stop doing that, there was no need to keep covering her back. It had been a long time since she had done that, before she had an affair with Jack. It's been so long ago since she had dated someone she had almost forgotten how it felt to flirt.
Hell, it was damn good.
It was so weird too, he made her feel as if she was 14 again and he was Tony Baxler, her first crush. When he had first entered the math class - in the middle of the year as a transfer - and Sam had set her eyes on him for the first time, the strange feeling in her belly - what later she knew was the so called 'butterflies' - she thought she was going to be sick for the strength it held. It was the first time she felt her hands sweat when he was around, or the stupid lack of speech when he said a simple 'hi'. And with Martin she felt all that again.
She felt brand new, she felt as if she was in love - which was true - and what a wonderful feeling it was. She regretted all the time she spent with Jack, all the days she wasted with him when she could have been with Martin. Just and the thought of Martin sent electric sparkles down her spine, making the unstoppable move of looking up and the disappointing sight of his desk empty.
She sighed sadly, upset that he had left without saying bye or even just letting her know that he was leaving. She didn't know why a small seed of anger was blossoming inside her, and was too busy trying to figure out these new feelings that she didn't notice Martin had stood beside her desk, not until he set a mug of warm coffee on her desk, when she finally felt his presence.
"I'm leaving," he said as he put his hands inside his pockets. It was strange and awkward to be seeing her a few hours before they were going out to their first real date.
She looked up, straight into his piercing blue eyes and saw in them the same feelings of awkwardness she was feeling. "Oh, I thought . . . I thought you had already left."
"Nah," he answered with a smile. "I didn't know how long you would stay here so I went to get you some coffee before leaving."
She smiled thankfully, averting her eyes to hide the shame in there. At the same time she mentally kicked herself for thinking he would leave without a word and for feeling angry for that. She would have noticed how cute he looked shy if not by the fact she was focused on how stupid she was and how guilty she was feeling. She took the cup in her hands and said, "Thank you" before drinking from it.
"You're welcome," he said shyly - Sam would have said something about how cute he looked then, but again, she was too busy blaming herself and only smiled sweetly at him. "So, I guess I'm going now."
"Yeah . . . bye."
"See you later," he said turning to leave and Sam watched him go, angry with herself by getting angry with him for nothing and as he entered the elevator and waited for the doors to close. Their eyes met again as if they were searching each other - that's what Sam thought from the amount of times their eyes constantly met during that day.
She sighed as she looked down back at her papers. It was time to go home, she decided noticing how tired of looking at the letters her eyes were. The only letters she'd want to read would be the menu of the restaurant Martin would take her, she was sure he would take her to dine. She got up and put her coat on then gathered her things to leave too.
~~~~*~~~~
The key just wouldn't get into the damn hole!
She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes as the air went down her throat and filled her lungs and opened her eyes again as she breathed all the air out, renovating her healthy lungs with brand new air. She gazed intensely at the keyhole, almost daring it to keep their little conspiracy of letting her outside. She held the key firmly and gingerly approached the gold little object to the door. Her hand wasn't shaking, the door was still and the keyhole wasn't moving . . . and wasn't alive either. She tried to put the key in its hole once more.
And the DAMN key just wouldn't get into the DAMN hole AGAIN!
"Are you trying to screw my life?!" Sam shouted - and, somehow, the door hit her right foot sending jolts of pain through it - the profane words coming out of her mouth, forgetting completely about the 'God's child' old lady from the next door apartment. Had not it been, two seconds later there she was, her white head peeking out of her door.
"Are you with some kind of problem dear?" she asked sweetly, her tremulous voice only increasing the fact she was old.
"Oh, no Mrs. Reynolds," Sam said putting a smile on. "Everything is great." She kept the smile on her lips as she watched the old lady going back inside. She looked harshly at the door as if it was the cause of all her problems - what at that moment she was sure it was. "See what you've done?? And you're going to make me late for my date!" she scolded really angry this time and worried about the time - even if she still had over two hours to get ready.
She looked angrily at the door one last time. "I'm going to put the key in the hole and get into MY apartment, do you get it?" she whispered harshly - she didn't need Mrs. Reynolds coming out again asking subtly if she was crazy and then, bam, she was inside her apartment. 'Ahh, the power of threat,' she thought delighted.
~~~~*~~~~
Now she had showered - washed her hair and dried it - she had the most difficult thing to do before a date: to pick out an outfit.
"Oh, crap, what to wear?" she muttered to herself after opening the closet door. Looking through it and seeing the amount of choices she had she felt lost. How could she pick something with so many options? She looked at clock and saw she had over an hour to pick something but feared it wouldn't be enough time anyway. She sighed, only in a situation like that having a lot of clothes was a bad thing
"You need to begin from somewhere," she whispered, tapping her foot on the carpet floor, still looking through her closet. "Pants and jeans are out of question," she decided. She looked down and spotted her brand new high heel sandals waving and winking at her, desperately asking to be used and she bent down to grab them and put them over the bed - carefully, of course - scribbling this item off of her mental list of 'what to wear'. "Now I need something to wear with them."
~~~~*~~~~
Forty-seven minutes later she saw herself on a jungle of clothes because half her wardrobe was scattered around the room, over the bed, on the floor, over the chair she used to - no, she didn't use it, in a matter of fact . . . it seemed it was there only for decoration - and anywhere she could throw them, but the black sandals were already on her feet.
She looked at the mirror, checking for the umpteenth time what she had choose to put on, making a face when she decided the blouse didn't go with the sandals . . . it seemed everything revolved around those sandals.
That was ridiculous, it was so simple to just pick something and put it on . . . she had, for the tenth time that day the similar thought that Martin made her feel as if she was having her first crush and now her first date. "OK, OK, I get that all right!" she mumbled and slapped her forehead, a little move, which made her make a face for the pain and massage the slapped spot.
Her belly was feeling as if it held fireworks within and she thought she would throw up any minute now. "That's it," she said firmly. "I'm not going anymore," she decided thinking on what to say to Martin when she called him. As she was closing the closet door she froze, her eyes glued to something. She smiled happily, hope washing over her. She had found the perfect dress.
She took the dress from its hanger and put it on then looked at herself through the mirror. The dress was dark brown foot length, only the tip of her sandals - which matched absolutely perfect the dress - showed. It fit her perfectly, that's why she had bought it even believing she would never use the dress, but she was wrong.
Now that she had dressed on - finally -, what should she do with her hair? She thought about tying it up, wondering what Martin thought of her with tied hair. He had never said anything - why should he? She wondered if he thought that she looked good or looked bad with her hair up. She didn't know and now she didn't know what to do with her hair either. "Damn! Why did he never say anything?"
She tried it, using her hands to keep her hair up, looked at the mirror on different angles, seeing if she looked good, but how could she know? She couldn't know what he liked . . . but . . . but she should, shouldn't she? 'Calm down,' she told herself breathing deeply to keep her cool, 'I bet he doesn't know what clothes you like him on better.' She looked at the mirror one more time, this time her hair was freely hanging about her head. She particularly liked her hair loose, she thought it looked better this way and again, wondered what Martin thought about it.
Shit . . . she was the schoolgirl trying to impress the boy she was going out with.
But he was impressed with her already, wasn't he? If not he wouldn't have kissed her - and what a kiss, by the way - or agreed to go out; but she wanted to impress him anyway. Did he think she was beautiful? She didn't know where that thought had come from but for some reason she focused on that. She wanted to know now, she needed to know. Was he going out with her just because everyone thought she was hot and he was having the chance or was he going out with her because he had feelings for her? He had to have feelings for her. She had. Love could hurt and the pain of it could be as strong as the love you felt for someone else. She didn't want to get hurt, she loved him so much it was painful sometimes - and she only realized she loved him a couple of days ago - and she couldn't stand a 'no'. She didn't know why she was having these doubts all of a sudden. Everyone knew Martin had a crush on her. Right?
She shook her head to push those thoughts way. He felt something for her, she had to believe in that, and she would give it a shot. She would try to make this thing work out with him because of the simple fact she felt for him what she had never felt for anybody else. She could only hope he loved her with the same strength she loved him.
She decided on letting her hair loose and moved on to the make up. Concentrating on doing it right, she tried to forget about the 'what if's and choose a brown eye shadow to put on, matching the color of her dress. She would have put dark lipstick to match the dress too, but she thought she would look too dark and loving Martin was everything but dark. As smart as she was she choose lip gloss, thinking that maybe it would drawn Martin's attention to her lips and make him want to kiss her. She smiled at her own intelligence.
Finally ready, she went to the living room to wait for him, little butterflies flying up and down in her belly. Looking at the clock on the wall she saw it was 6:40 and she got more nervous. She waited, pacing all the time, for ten minutes thinking about all the possibilities why he would not come and this only reinforced her thoughts when the clock read 6:57.
She buttoned the silk black blouse she was wearing over the dress and checked if the perfume wasn't too strong or too light then walked to the bathroom and looked at the mirror, checking her face to see if it was everything all right with her make up. When she walked back to the living room she looked at the clock again: 6:58. 'What the hell…' she thought. 'I should have taken longer . . . or . . . or he's not coming anymore.' She started to get even more nervous, if it was possible. It was almost seven and Martin hadn't arrived yet and she was starting to believe he wasn't coming anymore.
She looked at the clock again, 6:59. 'That's it,' she thought, 'he's not coming.' She was desperate now, she was sure he wasn't coming even if it wasn't seven yet and looking at the seconds passing by it only increased her nervousness and despair.
6:59 and 45 seconds . . . he's not coming. She got up and paced in front of the door, thinking on how she would face him the next morning since Jack seemed to be teaming her and Martin a lot lately. 58 seconds, what lame excuse would he tell her? What would she tell him?
7 p.m.. She put her hands on her hips and bit her lower lip. Maybe he was stuck in the traffic, maybe he was finishing getting ready, maybe he was busy and couldn't make it and maybe too busy to call saying he wouldn't, maybe . . . her torturing thoughts were interrupted when a light knock on the door reached her ears. She looked up puzzled at its general way and then at the clock and tried not to laugh at how ridiculous she was being. 7 p.m. and 28 seconds, he was right on time and Sam was only being too pessimistic.
She opened the door slowly, giving herself time to calm down and maybe giving Martin time too and when she opened it fully he was there. He was standing in front of her wearing a black suit, no flowers in his hands - but she didn't care - his hands were instead inside his pockets, an obvious posture of someone shy.
"Hey," he said, his smile betraying the shy posture and Sam thought if he was only faking it, the smile or the shyness - she couldn't say exactly.
"Hey," she repeated and no words came out of her mouth. Or his . . .
Until then, "So . . ."
She shook her head chuckling softly. "I'll just get my purse," she said and without wanting to. She turned and took two seconds to grab her purse and go back to the door, stopping there only to get her coat from the hanger, surprised when he helped her to put it on.
"Here, let me help you," he said as he took the coat from her and held it open, waiting Sam to put it on.
She slid her arms inside the long sleeves and turned to face him, their eyes meeting and locking. She was stunned by his beauty and - for the first time - the power of the love she saw in there. "Thank you."
He smiled and put his hands on either side of the collar of her coat, pulling them together, closing the coat and subtlety pulling her to him. She was hypnotized by his eyes, anticipating what he would do. He leaned in, their perfumes mixing together, their blue and brown eyes becoming a third color and then their mouths became one. He brought his hands up to rest them on her face as he opened her mouth, his tongue darting out into her mouth to taste her.
She wanted to open her eyes - it was incredible she was still thinking when his mouth was over hers - and see him, to see what he was doing, to see how his face looked while he was kissing her, to know if he felt the same way she did. She heard a moan and was sure it was hers, she couldn't 'not' moan, or not do any noise for the matter and unconsciously her hands went up to rest on his back, around his waist, his scent overwhelming her.
When he finally let her go - much to her disappointment - they were breathless, stunned and happy. He looked at her and Sam was sure he was seeing a stupid schoolgirl instead of the fearless Samantha Spade, a rag doll standing only because of his arms that were around her waist now, holding her up. "I had to do that," he said, his breath as scarce as hers. "I couldn't stop thinking about it."
She nodded, she didn't know what else to do. She couldn't think about something to say and only nodded, letting him know what he was doing to her. She saw him licking his lips, waiting for the answer she wasn't able to give at the moment, as much as she wanted to say something, she wanted to say 'I love you'. Instead she was the one who grabbed his collar this time - her purse sliding to the floor - pulling him to her and kissing him again, putting out in the kiss all the passion she was feeling inside.
"I guess this is OK then," he said as he chuckled softly when they parted, his eyes burying inside her own eyes, deep to her soul, searching in there for something she didn't know of.
"It's OK," she said with such eagerness he wanted to laugh, she wanted to laugh. Of course it was OK to kiss him and be kissed by him. She looked down, didn't know why, probably unconsciously searching for her purse and found it by her foot before bending down to get.
"Shall we?" he asked softly, giving his arm to her.
"Might as well," she nodded and stepped outside to lock the door, then accepted his arm and, again, let him led her.
"Oh, and you're incredible, by the way," he whispered in her ear, his warm breath sending electric sparks down her body, she looked at him with the corner of her eyes, not daring to turn, not daring to say something else.
~~~~*~~~~
She cast a quick glance at him, hoping he hadn't seen it, as he drove through New York streets, the flickering lights' fingers from the outside the car reaching inside to gently touch their faces and dance over them. He was beautiful, she thought as she cast a quick glance at him again, noticing - even under the dim light of the night - how his eyes were sparkling. Maybe because of the light that tricked her own eyes, making her see things that weren't really there, or maybe he was only as excited about it as she was.
She looked down at her hands, checking her nails to see if they were well treated as she smiled softly, trying to hide it from him. The car windows were closed because of the December cold, making the inside of the car replete with his perfume, one she didn't recognize. It was different from his daily cologne, but was as good and she thought if he had used it just because of her, because it was a special occasion, if it made him remember of her somehow.
She wanted so badly to look at the mirror and see if her lip-gloss was still on.
She wanted to hear his voice, wanted to talk and the silence inside the car was starting to bother. She wanted to reach ahead and turn on the radio but something was keeping her back, keeping her froze. She feared that if she moved or did a sudden move it all would disappear as though everything was just a good dream. She feared everything would twist into smoke if she spoke and realized she was nervous about what the date would lead to.
She wanted to break the silence but didn't know how and, as if he was reading her mind, Martin did it for her. "You're so quite," he said silently.
She looked at him, this time not a quick glance and laughed softly. "I'm just…"
"Nervous, I know," he finished for her, Sam understanding him, knowing at the very moment he was as nervous as she was. She smiled hoping he would see it and he did, and he smiled back at her, a welcoming feeling warming her inside and she sighed content. How could she be nervous with him? He was Martin and she loved him.
"So, where are we going?"
"The best place I could provide with a few hours in advance," he said mysteriously, not wanting her to know anything before she needed.
"Someplace kisses are allowed, I hope," she muttered louder than she intended to.
"Did I just hear that?" he said as a laugh escaped his lips. Oh, Jesus, he had a great laugh. "You know, to be honest, I thought about it too," he said when he stopped laughing, his voice small and shy.
Her smiled was so bright it reached her brown eyes and lit them, the blush she felt on her cheeks probably making a spectacular effect on her face. She didn't know what to say to him after that little un-shy comment; she didn't know even what to think. It was probably a good sign he thought about kissing her - not that she had any doubts after the little scene on her doorway - but knowing and hearing it was always a good thing.
He stopped the car while the red light was on, and used the few seconds to turn his head and look at her and feeling his eyes on her, she looked at him too, their eyes locking once more and both smiled. Wanting to be closer to him she reached over and grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers together. The sensations of this move caused her to lost her balance, even if she was sitting. The power of the fire inside her almost making her explode, the heat of his skin warming her own hand, sending heat up to her arm and through her whole body. She felt she was starting to shake and truly hoped he wouldn't notice and realize how stupid she was.
If that touch alone could cause this effect, she wondered how it'd be to really be with him.
She looked up, almost fearful of what she would see but her eyes were met with his soft smile and felt his thumb gently stroking her hand. Unfortunately the moment only lasted a few seconds, the red light soon changed to green. Martin squeezed her hand softly before letting it go to touch the cold steering wheel instead.
As they were approaching the place Martin was taking Sam, she could see the bright lights of the French restaurant drawing people just like colorful flowers drew bees. She was surprised at how beautiful the place was and looked at him stunned. "The best place you could provide with a few hours in advance?"
He shrugged, "Yeah, well . . ." There he was, shy again and she smiled again. He parked the car and got out, hurrying to her side to help her.
As their hands slightly joined she felt the electricity ran through them, waking up the butterflies within. "Thank you." She said softly and walked ahead of him to the restaurant door.
~~~~*~~~~
Four glasses of wine later and a finished meal, Samantha was sitting across from Martin, her upper body leaned in closer to his to listen more intently to his words, to feel better. His scent and his warmth. She wasn't focused on his words anymore, her eyes staring at his lips, following every move he made as he talked. It wasn't that what he was talking was uninteresting but her interest was more focused on his wet lips.
She occasionally listened to what he was saying and smiled or laughed softly, even chuckled, it wasn't a fake chuckle, it was real, her true self showing. She really was interested in what he had to say but at some point the longing to kiss him was too much and his words stopped going into her head. All she could think, all she could look at were his lips. His sweet scent wasn't helping a bit to keep her focused on his words.
Suddenly she brought one hand to the back of his neck and pulled him to her, silencing any word that was coming from his mouth with a moist and passionate kiss. She felt the world spinning as her lips touched his, as he opened her mouth to once more taste her sweetness, to play with her tongue, a small moan escaping from her throat not caring where they were. Not caring people could see them and talk about, point fingers at them.
Martin caught by surprised didn't let it last too long, for soon his hands were on her face. His tongue playing with hers, taking inside himself all the passion she was putting out in the kiss, mixing it with his own passion. He tasted the wine and the sweet flavor of the chocolate cake she was eating for dessert. She alone tasted sweet like honey and refreshing like cold water, a taste he had never felt in any other kiss before and it amazed him.
As she slowly pulled away she opened her eyes, focusing them on him, coming back to reality. The sight of her cheek flushed and her lips swollen made him smiled. She looked at him for seconds, not one saying a word, just staring at each other, wondering why - how - a simple kiss could cause this powerful result. "I . . ." She started but words failed her and she didn't really know what to say anyway.
He smiled understanding her, somehow reading in her eyes what she couldn't say. He smiled as one hand went to her face to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. His hand flattened her cheek, his warmth making her whole body shiver with delight. "Nice way to tell me to shut up," he whispered.
Even considering how close they were, she was still surprised when his breath touched her lips gently, his air mixing with hers as she breathed his own warm breath. She wanted to close her eyes and kiss him again, feel his lips again, feel his tongue tasting her, but she couldn't ask, she wouldn't of course and she couldn't even lean in and kiss him again, she was too numb right now.
As if he had read her mind, he leaned in, his lips softly touching hers at first, too softly for Sam's liking and she leaned in too, forcing their lips together, sticking them so close no air could get through.
She loved the sensations of his skin and his touch and the affect caused on her and this scared her to no end. What she felt was something she couldn't explain, it was like something heavenly; you know what it is but you can comprehend. She had never felt like that before, not even once to help her feel less confused. She had never felt something even close to that with Jack. What she felt was so much better she had to prove to herself it was real.
He pulled away; she cursed him. Resting his forehead on hers, one arm went around her shoulder, his hand caressing softly the nap of her neck, her body was shivering under his touch and he whispered in her ear. "Do you feel this?"
She nodded; her eyes closed as if they didn't have the strength to open themselves. Her heavy breath went straight to his lips, his heavy breath went straight to her lips. They were taking in each other lives. She bit her lower lip, wondering what she had done to deserve something like that, but she was sure that with all what she had done wrong she had done something right to deserve all the feelings, the happiness, to be falling in love . . . to deserve Martin.
His hand left her neck to go to her face and the other soon joined, turning her face to him, making her look into his eyes. He smiled; he had to. She was too beautiful to be true, a piece of art and the dim light in the restaurant only increased her beauty, her face flickering by the candlelight on their table. "God . . . you're beautiful." He murmured not knowing where this comment had come from.
She was mute. Stunned and mute. He had said she was beautiful before, no mystery he thought she was, she knew that but it was the way he spoke, his true feelings speaking for him, the power of those three words. And she thought how it would feel to hear him say those other so wanted to be heard three little words.
He kissed her, a butterfly kiss, just a brush of lips she barely felt and then he stood, his hand laced with hers, pulling her up with him. "Come on, let's go," he said softly waving his hand to a waiter asking for the check and a few minutes later they were back inside the car.
"Where are we going?" she asked quietly side glancing at him.
"You'll see," he said as a small enigmatic smile played on his lips. She smiled back, leaning back on her seat, making herself as comfortable as she could.
~~~~*~~~~
He parked the car on an empty spot, - well, there was no occupied placed in matter of fact - and got out as Sam did the same. She pulled her coat firmly round her, the night breeze much colder and even more now that they were in the winter. "What are we doing here?"
"Come and see," he said softly, taking her hand in his, its warmth very welcoming, warming within her. He led her down the path that lead to the docks, her high heels clicking on the wood floor.
When they reached the end of the dock Martin leaned in the railing as he let go of Sam's hand, looking at the soft and small waves on the water. The dock was completely dark, free of artificial lights, the only thing illuminating them was the gently bath of moonlight.
Sam stood beside him, watching him with curiosity and affection, giving him the time he needed, the silence he needed to think, to say whatever he needed to say. She smiled lovingly, she couldn't help it, this was something she didn't have control over and it happened every time she looked at him, every time she thought about him.
Linking her arm through his, she leaned in the railing too and looked around, trying to see what he was seeing, to find the reason he had brought her here. "It's beautiful," she said looking at the water, amazed it hadn't frozen yet, looking at the horizon. The night was calm and even considering the cold it was comfortable. Maybe because of the company.
"It is even more beautiful in the summer," he nodded as he spoke, the hand of his linked arm found hers and joined them.
They stayed there, in silence just watching the scenario. Sam sighed silently and rested her head on Martin's shoulder, never letting go of his hand. Suddenly she felt a cold drop right on her nose and looked up thinking it was starting to rain. As she looked up she saw tiny snowflakes coming from the sky and smiled happily. It'd be a white Christmas after all.
"It's snowing," Martin said, pointing the obvious and looked at Sam to see her big smile. "And it seems you're enjoying it."
"I'm not much of a fan of snow but I enjoy the sight it causes," she stated and tugged at his hand, pulling him from the railing and back to the car.
~~~~*~~~~
He pulled over by her building and she sighed, not loudly, she didn't want him to hear it, to notice the disappointment she was felling. That was it, the end, she thought as she looked at the black glass doors of her building entrance. It was melodramatic, she knew that; it was just the end of their first date. She knew they'd see each other next morning and probably have more dates eventually. But . . . it was something inside her, something that made her feel as if she was parting away, as if she wasn't going to see him anymore.
She turned to look at him only to find he was looking at her first. She tried to suppress a smile, but - of course - she failed, which caused Martin to smile back. It seemed to be happening a lot lately. "So . . . "
"So . . . "
"I should . . . go," she said and reluctantly reached for the door, but was stopped by a soft hand on her arm.
"Wait," he said calmly, no sign of nervousness and Sam wondered if he was only trying to hide his real nervousness or if he was really feeling like that, this calm. "I really enjoyed today."
"Yeah, me too," she bit her lip. She couldn't stop staring at him, at his beauty. She had to kiss him again. She had to do this soon; she had to do something soon; she couldn't just stay there staring at him, it was creepy.
Leaning in she put a quick kiss on his lips. It wasn't enough, but it'd have to do. She was already pulling back when she felt a soft hand on the back of her neck, gently pulling her back in. Suddenly her beat started beating too quickly. With each beat she felt as if her heart would fly right out of her chest. Every time she felt his lips it was like it was the first time, it was always so full of passion and love. She chuckled in the middle of the kiss, breaking the spell.
"What?" Martin asked, but amused by her sudden attitude, started chuckling too, curious to know what she found funny.
"Nothing," she chuckled the word out. She herself didn't really know what was funny. It was just that she felt as if she could chuckle, she could laugh. He made her happy, that's all. Why shouldn't she find it funny? She shook her head and said again, "Nothing." And before he could ask anything else she put her lips over his again.
They pulled apart for some air, their lips away from one another, but their eyes locked. His warm breath was going straight to her lips, they were still that close. Martin's hand was still on the back of her neck and using it again, he pulled her to him for one more kiss.
"I should really go," she said breathless when they pulled apart again.
"Yeah. It's getting late," he nodded, agreeing with her, but his hand didn't leave her neck. She kissed him quickly, one more time before getting out of the car.
"Bye," she whispered faintly, waving a blind hand in front of her. "See you tomorrow."
"Bye."
She smiled at him and turned to enter her building. When she got to her door, she had the same problem of before. The key was kind of reluctantly to work, but she managed it anyway. She had her way with inanimate things. She had sure she was grinning like crazy; she would see a stupid smile on her lips if she looked at a mirror. When she closed the door behind her, she leaned heavily on it, a big smile spreading across her face.
Good thing she hadn't used lipstick.
~~~~*~~~~
End of this chapter.
One more chapter done. Thank God. I didn't really like this chapter… I thought it was kind of stupid… I don't know... not the most brilliant one, but, well, anyway, review and tell me what you think. I don't know if I should continue; what do you think?
E-mail: deiab_x@hotmail.com if you feel like, send me a feed, I'll be glad to read it =] and you can always review too (",)
Spoiler: Mentions of 'The Bus'
Disclaimer: I wish I owned something… Even if I did I wouldn't be so creative to make any money of it.
Author's note: Thank you so much all the reviews, you guys make me feel loved, really ;] It's so good to check the site and see all the good things you guys said about my work. It sucks I know, but, anyway, you find a minute to stop what you're doing to read my lousy job and even review it.
~~~~*~~~~
There she was, sitting at her desk, finishing her report with such hurry and determination that she had never felt before, just because she didn't want to bring work home. She would need all the time to get ready for tonight as possible. She'd have felt stupid if it wasn't for Martin's own hurry and nervousness. Ha ha, that was a funny one. She never thought of Martin being one of getting nervous on a date . . . she had to laugh at that.
Every time she glanced up to distract herself from her papers for a few seconds, she would see Martin working hard on his own report papers, probably having the same line of thought, not wanting to bring work home either. Sometimes he'd lean back on his chair and run a hand over the back of his neck, rubbing some of the tension off and would look up, their eyes meeting for a brief second, making each one smile shyly and making Sam looks down, blushing a little.
And the day went by just like that, the occasional looks, the blushes - but only on Sam's part, she didn't see Martin getting shy once - the smiles and a single wave of hand. Once, Martin had discretely shook his finger and what she believed was a wave, making her smile again as if they knew a secret no one else did - which was the case at the moment - she had look around to see if any one was seeing that little move and she wanted to kick herself.
"This is NOT Jack," she told herself harshly. She had to stop doing that, there was no need to keep covering her back. It had been a long time since she had done that, before she had an affair with Jack. It's been so long ago since she had dated someone she had almost forgotten how it felt to flirt.
Hell, it was damn good.
It was so weird too, he made her feel as if she was 14 again and he was Tony Baxler, her first crush. When he had first entered the math class - in the middle of the year as a transfer - and Sam had set her eyes on him for the first time, the strange feeling in her belly - what later she knew was the so called 'butterflies' - she thought she was going to be sick for the strength it held. It was the first time she felt her hands sweat when he was around, or the stupid lack of speech when he said a simple 'hi'. And with Martin she felt all that again.
She felt brand new, she felt as if she was in love - which was true - and what a wonderful feeling it was. She regretted all the time she spent with Jack, all the days she wasted with him when she could have been with Martin. Just and the thought of Martin sent electric sparkles down her spine, making the unstoppable move of looking up and the disappointing sight of his desk empty.
She sighed sadly, upset that he had left without saying bye or even just letting her know that he was leaving. She didn't know why a small seed of anger was blossoming inside her, and was too busy trying to figure out these new feelings that she didn't notice Martin had stood beside her desk, not until he set a mug of warm coffee on her desk, when she finally felt his presence.
"I'm leaving," he said as he put his hands inside his pockets. It was strange and awkward to be seeing her a few hours before they were going out to their first real date.
She looked up, straight into his piercing blue eyes and saw in them the same feelings of awkwardness she was feeling. "Oh, I thought . . . I thought you had already left."
"Nah," he answered with a smile. "I didn't know how long you would stay here so I went to get you some coffee before leaving."
She smiled thankfully, averting her eyes to hide the shame in there. At the same time she mentally kicked herself for thinking he would leave without a word and for feeling angry for that. She would have noticed how cute he looked shy if not by the fact she was focused on how stupid she was and how guilty she was feeling. She took the cup in her hands and said, "Thank you" before drinking from it.
"You're welcome," he said shyly - Sam would have said something about how cute he looked then, but again, she was too busy blaming herself and only smiled sweetly at him. "So, I guess I'm going now."
"Yeah . . . bye."
"See you later," he said turning to leave and Sam watched him go, angry with herself by getting angry with him for nothing and as he entered the elevator and waited for the doors to close. Their eyes met again as if they were searching each other - that's what Sam thought from the amount of times their eyes constantly met during that day.
She sighed as she looked down back at her papers. It was time to go home, she decided noticing how tired of looking at the letters her eyes were. The only letters she'd want to read would be the menu of the restaurant Martin would take her, she was sure he would take her to dine. She got up and put her coat on then gathered her things to leave too.
~~~~*~~~~
The key just wouldn't get into the damn hole!
She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes as the air went down her throat and filled her lungs and opened her eyes again as she breathed all the air out, renovating her healthy lungs with brand new air. She gazed intensely at the keyhole, almost daring it to keep their little conspiracy of letting her outside. She held the key firmly and gingerly approached the gold little object to the door. Her hand wasn't shaking, the door was still and the keyhole wasn't moving . . . and wasn't alive either. She tried to put the key in its hole once more.
And the DAMN key just wouldn't get into the DAMN hole AGAIN!
"Are you trying to screw my life?!" Sam shouted - and, somehow, the door hit her right foot sending jolts of pain through it - the profane words coming out of her mouth, forgetting completely about the 'God's child' old lady from the next door apartment. Had not it been, two seconds later there she was, her white head peeking out of her door.
"Are you with some kind of problem dear?" she asked sweetly, her tremulous voice only increasing the fact she was old.
"Oh, no Mrs. Reynolds," Sam said putting a smile on. "Everything is great." She kept the smile on her lips as she watched the old lady going back inside. She looked harshly at the door as if it was the cause of all her problems - what at that moment she was sure it was. "See what you've done?? And you're going to make me late for my date!" she scolded really angry this time and worried about the time - even if she still had over two hours to get ready.
She looked angrily at the door one last time. "I'm going to put the key in the hole and get into MY apartment, do you get it?" she whispered harshly - she didn't need Mrs. Reynolds coming out again asking subtly if she was crazy and then, bam, she was inside her apartment. 'Ahh, the power of threat,' she thought delighted.
~~~~*~~~~
Now she had showered - washed her hair and dried it - she had the most difficult thing to do before a date: to pick out an outfit.
"Oh, crap, what to wear?" she muttered to herself after opening the closet door. Looking through it and seeing the amount of choices she had she felt lost. How could she pick something with so many options? She looked at clock and saw she had over an hour to pick something but feared it wouldn't be enough time anyway. She sighed, only in a situation like that having a lot of clothes was a bad thing
"You need to begin from somewhere," she whispered, tapping her foot on the carpet floor, still looking through her closet. "Pants and jeans are out of question," she decided. She looked down and spotted her brand new high heel sandals waving and winking at her, desperately asking to be used and she bent down to grab them and put them over the bed - carefully, of course - scribbling this item off of her mental list of 'what to wear'. "Now I need something to wear with them."
~~~~*~~~~
Forty-seven minutes later she saw herself on a jungle of clothes because half her wardrobe was scattered around the room, over the bed, on the floor, over the chair she used to - no, she didn't use it, in a matter of fact . . . it seemed it was there only for decoration - and anywhere she could throw them, but the black sandals were already on her feet.
She looked at the mirror, checking for the umpteenth time what she had choose to put on, making a face when she decided the blouse didn't go with the sandals . . . it seemed everything revolved around those sandals.
That was ridiculous, it was so simple to just pick something and put it on . . . she had, for the tenth time that day the similar thought that Martin made her feel as if she was having her first crush and now her first date. "OK, OK, I get that all right!" she mumbled and slapped her forehead, a little move, which made her make a face for the pain and massage the slapped spot.
Her belly was feeling as if it held fireworks within and she thought she would throw up any minute now. "That's it," she said firmly. "I'm not going anymore," she decided thinking on what to say to Martin when she called him. As she was closing the closet door she froze, her eyes glued to something. She smiled happily, hope washing over her. She had found the perfect dress.
She took the dress from its hanger and put it on then looked at herself through the mirror. The dress was dark brown foot length, only the tip of her sandals - which matched absolutely perfect the dress - showed. It fit her perfectly, that's why she had bought it even believing she would never use the dress, but she was wrong.
Now that she had dressed on - finally -, what should she do with her hair? She thought about tying it up, wondering what Martin thought of her with tied hair. He had never said anything - why should he? She wondered if he thought that she looked good or looked bad with her hair up. She didn't know and now she didn't know what to do with her hair either. "Damn! Why did he never say anything?"
She tried it, using her hands to keep her hair up, looked at the mirror on different angles, seeing if she looked good, but how could she know? She couldn't know what he liked . . . but . . . but she should, shouldn't she? 'Calm down,' she told herself breathing deeply to keep her cool, 'I bet he doesn't know what clothes you like him on better.' She looked at the mirror one more time, this time her hair was freely hanging about her head. She particularly liked her hair loose, she thought it looked better this way and again, wondered what Martin thought about it.
Shit . . . she was the schoolgirl trying to impress the boy she was going out with.
But he was impressed with her already, wasn't he? If not he wouldn't have kissed her - and what a kiss, by the way - or agreed to go out; but she wanted to impress him anyway. Did he think she was beautiful? She didn't know where that thought had come from but for some reason she focused on that. She wanted to know now, she needed to know. Was he going out with her just because everyone thought she was hot and he was having the chance or was he going out with her because he had feelings for her? He had to have feelings for her. She had. Love could hurt and the pain of it could be as strong as the love you felt for someone else. She didn't want to get hurt, she loved him so much it was painful sometimes - and she only realized she loved him a couple of days ago - and she couldn't stand a 'no'. She didn't know why she was having these doubts all of a sudden. Everyone knew Martin had a crush on her. Right?
She shook her head to push those thoughts way. He felt something for her, she had to believe in that, and she would give it a shot. She would try to make this thing work out with him because of the simple fact she felt for him what she had never felt for anybody else. She could only hope he loved her with the same strength she loved him.
She decided on letting her hair loose and moved on to the make up. Concentrating on doing it right, she tried to forget about the 'what if's and choose a brown eye shadow to put on, matching the color of her dress. She would have put dark lipstick to match the dress too, but she thought she would look too dark and loving Martin was everything but dark. As smart as she was she choose lip gloss, thinking that maybe it would drawn Martin's attention to her lips and make him want to kiss her. She smiled at her own intelligence.
Finally ready, she went to the living room to wait for him, little butterflies flying up and down in her belly. Looking at the clock on the wall she saw it was 6:40 and she got more nervous. She waited, pacing all the time, for ten minutes thinking about all the possibilities why he would not come and this only reinforced her thoughts when the clock read 6:57.
She buttoned the silk black blouse she was wearing over the dress and checked if the perfume wasn't too strong or too light then walked to the bathroom and looked at the mirror, checking her face to see if it was everything all right with her make up. When she walked back to the living room she looked at the clock again: 6:58. 'What the hell…' she thought. 'I should have taken longer . . . or . . . or he's not coming anymore.' She started to get even more nervous, if it was possible. It was almost seven and Martin hadn't arrived yet and she was starting to believe he wasn't coming anymore.
She looked at the clock again, 6:59. 'That's it,' she thought, 'he's not coming.' She was desperate now, she was sure he wasn't coming even if it wasn't seven yet and looking at the seconds passing by it only increased her nervousness and despair.
6:59 and 45 seconds . . . he's not coming. She got up and paced in front of the door, thinking on how she would face him the next morning since Jack seemed to be teaming her and Martin a lot lately. 58 seconds, what lame excuse would he tell her? What would she tell him?
7 p.m.. She put her hands on her hips and bit her lower lip. Maybe he was stuck in the traffic, maybe he was finishing getting ready, maybe he was busy and couldn't make it and maybe too busy to call saying he wouldn't, maybe . . . her torturing thoughts were interrupted when a light knock on the door reached her ears. She looked up puzzled at its general way and then at the clock and tried not to laugh at how ridiculous she was being. 7 p.m. and 28 seconds, he was right on time and Sam was only being too pessimistic.
She opened the door slowly, giving herself time to calm down and maybe giving Martin time too and when she opened it fully he was there. He was standing in front of her wearing a black suit, no flowers in his hands - but she didn't care - his hands were instead inside his pockets, an obvious posture of someone shy.
"Hey," he said, his smile betraying the shy posture and Sam thought if he was only faking it, the smile or the shyness - she couldn't say exactly.
"Hey," she repeated and no words came out of her mouth. Or his . . .
Until then, "So . . ."
She shook her head chuckling softly. "I'll just get my purse," she said and without wanting to. She turned and took two seconds to grab her purse and go back to the door, stopping there only to get her coat from the hanger, surprised when he helped her to put it on.
"Here, let me help you," he said as he took the coat from her and held it open, waiting Sam to put it on.
She slid her arms inside the long sleeves and turned to face him, their eyes meeting and locking. She was stunned by his beauty and - for the first time - the power of the love she saw in there. "Thank you."
He smiled and put his hands on either side of the collar of her coat, pulling them together, closing the coat and subtlety pulling her to him. She was hypnotized by his eyes, anticipating what he would do. He leaned in, their perfumes mixing together, their blue and brown eyes becoming a third color and then their mouths became one. He brought his hands up to rest them on her face as he opened her mouth, his tongue darting out into her mouth to taste her.
She wanted to open her eyes - it was incredible she was still thinking when his mouth was over hers - and see him, to see what he was doing, to see how his face looked while he was kissing her, to know if he felt the same way she did. She heard a moan and was sure it was hers, she couldn't 'not' moan, or not do any noise for the matter and unconsciously her hands went up to rest on his back, around his waist, his scent overwhelming her.
When he finally let her go - much to her disappointment - they were breathless, stunned and happy. He looked at her and Sam was sure he was seeing a stupid schoolgirl instead of the fearless Samantha Spade, a rag doll standing only because of his arms that were around her waist now, holding her up. "I had to do that," he said, his breath as scarce as hers. "I couldn't stop thinking about it."
She nodded, she didn't know what else to do. She couldn't think about something to say and only nodded, letting him know what he was doing to her. She saw him licking his lips, waiting for the answer she wasn't able to give at the moment, as much as she wanted to say something, she wanted to say 'I love you'. Instead she was the one who grabbed his collar this time - her purse sliding to the floor - pulling him to her and kissing him again, putting out in the kiss all the passion she was feeling inside.
"I guess this is OK then," he said as he chuckled softly when they parted, his eyes burying inside her own eyes, deep to her soul, searching in there for something she didn't know of.
"It's OK," she said with such eagerness he wanted to laugh, she wanted to laugh. Of course it was OK to kiss him and be kissed by him. She looked down, didn't know why, probably unconsciously searching for her purse and found it by her foot before bending down to get.
"Shall we?" he asked softly, giving his arm to her.
"Might as well," she nodded and stepped outside to lock the door, then accepted his arm and, again, let him led her.
"Oh, and you're incredible, by the way," he whispered in her ear, his warm breath sending electric sparks down her body, she looked at him with the corner of her eyes, not daring to turn, not daring to say something else.
~~~~*~~~~
She cast a quick glance at him, hoping he hadn't seen it, as he drove through New York streets, the flickering lights' fingers from the outside the car reaching inside to gently touch their faces and dance over them. He was beautiful, she thought as she cast a quick glance at him again, noticing - even under the dim light of the night - how his eyes were sparkling. Maybe because of the light that tricked her own eyes, making her see things that weren't really there, or maybe he was only as excited about it as she was.
She looked down at her hands, checking her nails to see if they were well treated as she smiled softly, trying to hide it from him. The car windows were closed because of the December cold, making the inside of the car replete with his perfume, one she didn't recognize. It was different from his daily cologne, but was as good and she thought if he had used it just because of her, because it was a special occasion, if it made him remember of her somehow.
She wanted so badly to look at the mirror and see if her lip-gloss was still on.
She wanted to hear his voice, wanted to talk and the silence inside the car was starting to bother. She wanted to reach ahead and turn on the radio but something was keeping her back, keeping her froze. She feared that if she moved or did a sudden move it all would disappear as though everything was just a good dream. She feared everything would twist into smoke if she spoke and realized she was nervous about what the date would lead to.
She wanted to break the silence but didn't know how and, as if he was reading her mind, Martin did it for her. "You're so quite," he said silently.
She looked at him, this time not a quick glance and laughed softly. "I'm just…"
"Nervous, I know," he finished for her, Sam understanding him, knowing at the very moment he was as nervous as she was. She smiled hoping he would see it and he did, and he smiled back at her, a welcoming feeling warming her inside and she sighed content. How could she be nervous with him? He was Martin and she loved him.
"So, where are we going?"
"The best place I could provide with a few hours in advance," he said mysteriously, not wanting her to know anything before she needed.
"Someplace kisses are allowed, I hope," she muttered louder than she intended to.
"Did I just hear that?" he said as a laugh escaped his lips. Oh, Jesus, he had a great laugh. "You know, to be honest, I thought about it too," he said when he stopped laughing, his voice small and shy.
Her smiled was so bright it reached her brown eyes and lit them, the blush she felt on her cheeks probably making a spectacular effect on her face. She didn't know what to say to him after that little un-shy comment; she didn't know even what to think. It was probably a good sign he thought about kissing her - not that she had any doubts after the little scene on her doorway - but knowing and hearing it was always a good thing.
He stopped the car while the red light was on, and used the few seconds to turn his head and look at her and feeling his eyes on her, she looked at him too, their eyes locking once more and both smiled. Wanting to be closer to him she reached over and grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers together. The sensations of this move caused her to lost her balance, even if she was sitting. The power of the fire inside her almost making her explode, the heat of his skin warming her own hand, sending heat up to her arm and through her whole body. She felt she was starting to shake and truly hoped he wouldn't notice and realize how stupid she was.
If that touch alone could cause this effect, she wondered how it'd be to really be with him.
She looked up, almost fearful of what she would see but her eyes were met with his soft smile and felt his thumb gently stroking her hand. Unfortunately the moment only lasted a few seconds, the red light soon changed to green. Martin squeezed her hand softly before letting it go to touch the cold steering wheel instead.
As they were approaching the place Martin was taking Sam, she could see the bright lights of the French restaurant drawing people just like colorful flowers drew bees. She was surprised at how beautiful the place was and looked at him stunned. "The best place you could provide with a few hours in advance?"
He shrugged, "Yeah, well . . ." There he was, shy again and she smiled again. He parked the car and got out, hurrying to her side to help her.
As their hands slightly joined she felt the electricity ran through them, waking up the butterflies within. "Thank you." She said softly and walked ahead of him to the restaurant door.
~~~~*~~~~
Four glasses of wine later and a finished meal, Samantha was sitting across from Martin, her upper body leaned in closer to his to listen more intently to his words, to feel better. His scent and his warmth. She wasn't focused on his words anymore, her eyes staring at his lips, following every move he made as he talked. It wasn't that what he was talking was uninteresting but her interest was more focused on his wet lips.
She occasionally listened to what he was saying and smiled or laughed softly, even chuckled, it wasn't a fake chuckle, it was real, her true self showing. She really was interested in what he had to say but at some point the longing to kiss him was too much and his words stopped going into her head. All she could think, all she could look at were his lips. His sweet scent wasn't helping a bit to keep her focused on his words.
Suddenly she brought one hand to the back of his neck and pulled him to her, silencing any word that was coming from his mouth with a moist and passionate kiss. She felt the world spinning as her lips touched his, as he opened her mouth to once more taste her sweetness, to play with her tongue, a small moan escaping from her throat not caring where they were. Not caring people could see them and talk about, point fingers at them.
Martin caught by surprised didn't let it last too long, for soon his hands were on her face. His tongue playing with hers, taking inside himself all the passion she was putting out in the kiss, mixing it with his own passion. He tasted the wine and the sweet flavor of the chocolate cake she was eating for dessert. She alone tasted sweet like honey and refreshing like cold water, a taste he had never felt in any other kiss before and it amazed him.
As she slowly pulled away she opened her eyes, focusing them on him, coming back to reality. The sight of her cheek flushed and her lips swollen made him smiled. She looked at him for seconds, not one saying a word, just staring at each other, wondering why - how - a simple kiss could cause this powerful result. "I . . ." She started but words failed her and she didn't really know what to say anyway.
He smiled understanding her, somehow reading in her eyes what she couldn't say. He smiled as one hand went to her face to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. His hand flattened her cheek, his warmth making her whole body shiver with delight. "Nice way to tell me to shut up," he whispered.
Even considering how close they were, she was still surprised when his breath touched her lips gently, his air mixing with hers as she breathed his own warm breath. She wanted to close her eyes and kiss him again, feel his lips again, feel his tongue tasting her, but she couldn't ask, she wouldn't of course and she couldn't even lean in and kiss him again, she was too numb right now.
As if he had read her mind, he leaned in, his lips softly touching hers at first, too softly for Sam's liking and she leaned in too, forcing their lips together, sticking them so close no air could get through.
She loved the sensations of his skin and his touch and the affect caused on her and this scared her to no end. What she felt was something she couldn't explain, it was like something heavenly; you know what it is but you can comprehend. She had never felt like that before, not even once to help her feel less confused. She had never felt something even close to that with Jack. What she felt was so much better she had to prove to herself it was real.
He pulled away; she cursed him. Resting his forehead on hers, one arm went around her shoulder, his hand caressing softly the nap of her neck, her body was shivering under his touch and he whispered in her ear. "Do you feel this?"
She nodded; her eyes closed as if they didn't have the strength to open themselves. Her heavy breath went straight to his lips, his heavy breath went straight to her lips. They were taking in each other lives. She bit her lower lip, wondering what she had done to deserve something like that, but she was sure that with all what she had done wrong she had done something right to deserve all the feelings, the happiness, to be falling in love . . . to deserve Martin.
His hand left her neck to go to her face and the other soon joined, turning her face to him, making her look into his eyes. He smiled; he had to. She was too beautiful to be true, a piece of art and the dim light in the restaurant only increased her beauty, her face flickering by the candlelight on their table. "God . . . you're beautiful." He murmured not knowing where this comment had come from.
She was mute. Stunned and mute. He had said she was beautiful before, no mystery he thought she was, she knew that but it was the way he spoke, his true feelings speaking for him, the power of those three words. And she thought how it would feel to hear him say those other so wanted to be heard three little words.
He kissed her, a butterfly kiss, just a brush of lips she barely felt and then he stood, his hand laced with hers, pulling her up with him. "Come on, let's go," he said softly waving his hand to a waiter asking for the check and a few minutes later they were back inside the car.
"Where are we going?" she asked quietly side glancing at him.
"You'll see," he said as a small enigmatic smile played on his lips. She smiled back, leaning back on her seat, making herself as comfortable as she could.
~~~~*~~~~
He parked the car on an empty spot, - well, there was no occupied placed in matter of fact - and got out as Sam did the same. She pulled her coat firmly round her, the night breeze much colder and even more now that they were in the winter. "What are we doing here?"
"Come and see," he said softly, taking her hand in his, its warmth very welcoming, warming within her. He led her down the path that lead to the docks, her high heels clicking on the wood floor.
When they reached the end of the dock Martin leaned in the railing as he let go of Sam's hand, looking at the soft and small waves on the water. The dock was completely dark, free of artificial lights, the only thing illuminating them was the gently bath of moonlight.
Sam stood beside him, watching him with curiosity and affection, giving him the time he needed, the silence he needed to think, to say whatever he needed to say. She smiled lovingly, she couldn't help it, this was something she didn't have control over and it happened every time she looked at him, every time she thought about him.
Linking her arm through his, she leaned in the railing too and looked around, trying to see what he was seeing, to find the reason he had brought her here. "It's beautiful," she said looking at the water, amazed it hadn't frozen yet, looking at the horizon. The night was calm and even considering the cold it was comfortable. Maybe because of the company.
"It is even more beautiful in the summer," he nodded as he spoke, the hand of his linked arm found hers and joined them.
They stayed there, in silence just watching the scenario. Sam sighed silently and rested her head on Martin's shoulder, never letting go of his hand. Suddenly she felt a cold drop right on her nose and looked up thinking it was starting to rain. As she looked up she saw tiny snowflakes coming from the sky and smiled happily. It'd be a white Christmas after all.
"It's snowing," Martin said, pointing the obvious and looked at Sam to see her big smile. "And it seems you're enjoying it."
"I'm not much of a fan of snow but I enjoy the sight it causes," she stated and tugged at his hand, pulling him from the railing and back to the car.
~~~~*~~~~
He pulled over by her building and she sighed, not loudly, she didn't want him to hear it, to notice the disappointment she was felling. That was it, the end, she thought as she looked at the black glass doors of her building entrance. It was melodramatic, she knew that; it was just the end of their first date. She knew they'd see each other next morning and probably have more dates eventually. But . . . it was something inside her, something that made her feel as if she was parting away, as if she wasn't going to see him anymore.
She turned to look at him only to find he was looking at her first. She tried to suppress a smile, but - of course - she failed, which caused Martin to smile back. It seemed to be happening a lot lately. "So . . . "
"So . . . "
"I should . . . go," she said and reluctantly reached for the door, but was stopped by a soft hand on her arm.
"Wait," he said calmly, no sign of nervousness and Sam wondered if he was only trying to hide his real nervousness or if he was really feeling like that, this calm. "I really enjoyed today."
"Yeah, me too," she bit her lip. She couldn't stop staring at him, at his beauty. She had to kiss him again. She had to do this soon; she had to do something soon; she couldn't just stay there staring at him, it was creepy.
Leaning in she put a quick kiss on his lips. It wasn't enough, but it'd have to do. She was already pulling back when she felt a soft hand on the back of her neck, gently pulling her back in. Suddenly her beat started beating too quickly. With each beat she felt as if her heart would fly right out of her chest. Every time she felt his lips it was like it was the first time, it was always so full of passion and love. She chuckled in the middle of the kiss, breaking the spell.
"What?" Martin asked, but amused by her sudden attitude, started chuckling too, curious to know what she found funny.
"Nothing," she chuckled the word out. She herself didn't really know what was funny. It was just that she felt as if she could chuckle, she could laugh. He made her happy, that's all. Why shouldn't she find it funny? She shook her head and said again, "Nothing." And before he could ask anything else she put her lips over his again.
They pulled apart for some air, their lips away from one another, but their eyes locked. His warm breath was going straight to her lips, they were still that close. Martin's hand was still on the back of her neck and using it again, he pulled her to him for one more kiss.
"I should really go," she said breathless when they pulled apart again.
"Yeah. It's getting late," he nodded, agreeing with her, but his hand didn't leave her neck. She kissed him quickly, one more time before getting out of the car.
"Bye," she whispered faintly, waving a blind hand in front of her. "See you tomorrow."
"Bye."
She smiled at him and turned to enter her building. When she got to her door, she had the same problem of before. The key was kind of reluctantly to work, but she managed it anyway. She had her way with inanimate things. She had sure she was grinning like crazy; she would see a stupid smile on her lips if she looked at a mirror. When she closed the door behind her, she leaned heavily on it, a big smile spreading across her face.
Good thing she hadn't used lipstick.
~~~~*~~~~
End of this chapter.
One more chapter done. Thank God. I didn't really like this chapter… I thought it was kind of stupid… I don't know... not the most brilliant one, but, well, anyway, review and tell me what you think. I don't know if I should continue; what do you think?