Sam/Addison - Office Furniture
~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Static Waves
- Andrew Belle featuring Katie Herzig
~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Addison can feel the blush creeping up her neck to her cheeks, she can sense the way Sam has been watching her intently all night, including the part where she spilled red wine all over his silver tie, dashing a large puddle onto the wood flooring of the practice's conference room.
And it's coming, they both know, the part where the time to have fun switches gears into something drastically more serious. The area where fights aren't won or discarded, but merely resigned and compromised. The place where she can wreck them, leaving doused flames to dance in what was once such a perfect solution.
Amelia, as undesirable as an advice holder can be, had made vital points that Addison refused to acknowledge until now. Because the candles on her birthday cake tonight should have covered the entirely too sweet surface, because she's only losing minutes, seconds, hours to have the one thing she really desires.
And as Sam's fingers creep daringly into the silk fabric hanging loosely off her shoulders she can feel it bubbling up, tragically ending the best celebration she's had in forty some odd years. She leans against the long table where meetings are scheduled, patients are discussed, where lives are essentially altered and feels her chest seize.
"I love you," Sam says softly against her neck, pulling her closer, teeth biting down on the gentle flesh between her collarbone and shoulder, not pausing for a second to see if one of their coworkers had the same plan to return after Addison's dinner.
"I want a baby," Addison whimpers back.
He promises he just needs a minute to think over things out in the lobby, but forty minutes later he's disappeared and Addison is left with an unfinished bottle of bitter alcohol, her stinging truth, and the gnawing ache of recognizing self-destruction.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~