I lied; this is gonna be a five-shot if there is such a thing, because I'm going on a spontaneous vacation and can't not update. So here's the first half. :|
I'm beginning to think the whole world wants me to put those three words in strikethrough.
And it was the last thing in the world I was thinking about, accidentally falling asleep absolutely wrapped around Carly, because that's what she wanted. I have no clue how early it is; the dirty blinds covering the few windows in this apartment aren't letting a single bit of light through. I feel Carly stir against my chest where she's curled up because I guess I moved too much, and then she's awake and looking up at me and smiling with love twinkling in her eyes like some kind of fucking angel. I smile back before I realize we fell asleep on the couch, too comfy to move apparently, as I had planned to move to some other room in this house, just in case my mother or mother and male friend came home equally drunk and tried to find us to do God-knows-what to us both.
As if on cue, someone kicks the door in, staggering inside and grumbling nonsense words, hanging on every nearby stable object. Hair unkempt, eyes baggy, and swaying back and forth seemingly uncontrollably, in waddled my mother, obviously drunk and very well aware of it. Her half-seeing eyes lock into me like wary little magnets, and she puts her rant on pause. Carly clutches at my shirt in fear, because I didn't tell her this part about living here, and she's visibly scared as hell.
"Michelle!" my mother bursts out, suddenly in a confused rage, "Get over here, you..." She took one shaky step towards us both, and my entire body instantly tensed, ready to fight and or kill if it meant risking Carly. "Come get what you deserve, you little slut..." My typical Sam instincts told me to lash out at the bitch with that comment, but when she went to grab for Carly, I decided we need to get out of here. Untangling myself from her, I grabbed Carly by the wrist and dashed with her out the door that was left open. I heard her drunken, screaming babbles all the way down the hall and the three flights of stairs, only getting relief when we were into the streets.
Met with cold early-morning autumn air, we both shivered, not even close to being dressed for the weather. Nevertheless, groups of people walked past us sight unseen, like two shivering girls clinging to each other, in pajamas, this early in the morning was an everyday thing.
Then Carly turns to me, looking a little annoyed.
"So, what was that all about?" she interrogates me, and I turn my gaze to where I'm embarrassedly kicking a beer bottle cap around with the toe of one of my ratty old Converses. No one's supposed to see this side of me.
"That...was kinda my mom," I reply, the 'kinda' meaning more than I could ever explain to her. Glancing up briefly, I see her eyes softening in realization.
"Sam..." Carly starts, suddenly sympathetic because she didn't know, I know she didn't know, but I step back anyway to avoid her outreaching hand from doing whatever healing shoulder-touch she was about to attempt that wouldn't work anyway. Because nothing could fix this; hell knows I tried, but it started long before I was born and it's just a lost cause.
"It's okay, Carly. Don't bother, you'll just say what everyone else has," Meeting her eyes, I can feel some wall break down that's been up there since the incident that gave me the deep scar across my ribs, like I don't have to be afraid anymore. All the defense I ever need is right here, grabbing my hand now and leading me down the familiar streets to the Bushwell Plaza, before I can even say anything more. Then she's leading me up the stairs and just outside her door, where she finally says something.
"Spencer's probably right inside on the couch, okay? So please, for the love of God, Sam, don't wake him up. I don't know what he'll..." I saw the imminent breakdown in her eyes, so I snatched her up into a hug before she could finish that sentence. After calming down a little, she pulled back with a sniffle or two. "...Sam, I don't think we're safe here either," she chokes out, and for one more time in my life, I feel absolutely hopeless and lost. But then with a smile, I remember the love this girl in front of me is pouring out right now, and I don't feel that way so much anymore. Seeing her look equally hopeless and lost, I lace my fingers with hers.
"Remember what I said, okay, Carls? We can only get stronger." She finally returns my smile. "And you know, I'll protect you. No matter what," I promise her, tracing her cheek with my hand, causing her to blush slightly. "Now come on, cupcake, let's get through this. Okay?" Carly nods, opening the door as slowly as she possibly can, just far enough for us both to slip through, and we do.
Just as she had expected, Spencer was sprawled out on the couch, television still flashing colors across his sleeping form, with a number of glass bottles strewn across the floor and coffee table, as we both lose the breath in our lungs. If either of us knew he drank at all, it was never anything like this. I can see the blame and guilt build up in Carly's eyes at the sight of him like this, so I run my hand up and down her arm in a horrible attempt to comfort her, but she just sighs defeatedly, continuing her way up the stairs and into the iCarly studio, where she proceeded to throw me onto a beanbag with shocking force. The look on her face absolutely gave me chills, up and down my spine and across my skin like spiders and everywhere else. She walks back momentarily to shut the door before returning her chilling gaze to me.
"Carls..." I start. Not saying a word, she lowers herself over me, faces barely inches apart.
"Sam," she states simply, tracing my face lightly with her thumb, setting my nerves on fire in the short instant. As much as I liked the current position, I was confused by her sudden change in actions. "You gotta be quiet, okay?" Carly whispers, her breath hitting my lips and causing me to swallow nervously. Something's not right here.
"Carls..." I try again, only to be cut off by her kissing me roughly. Alarms and red flags and bells and whistles and loud shit immediately all went off in my head at the same time, and I try desperately to squirm from her or break away. She only responds by slamming my wrists above my head in a tight hold that I had no idea Carly could even muster. Feeling absolutely trapped, natural Sam reacted the way natural Sam does, and with a burst of adrenaline, managed to throw her off me a little harder than I meant to. Both of us breathing hard for similar reasons, I took this as my one chance. "Are you going to let me have any say in this?" I hiss at her, probably a little too loudly, but the look on her face meant I got the point through, and she nodded. "So then, what's up, Carls? What are you doing this for?" Her eyes spoke volumes as she raised her eyes to mine.
"This is the only chance we have," she said simply. "The whole world's out to get us, Sam, we can't keep running like this. It's too much for both of us, and you know that." Her words made me sigh, because I did know that. "What's stopping us?"
"It's too early. You just declared your love for me less than twenty-four hours ago." I said bluntly, not moving in my decision. This can't happen, not tonight.
"So?" Carly scoffs, "Time is just a stupid made-up thing anyway. I mean, you said it yourself, twice, We can only get stronger...so what do we have to lose?" Only everything, Carly. Everything. "We both know we love each other..." And I cringe at this, because no, we don't.
I tell her so, and I see her wince at yet another blunt statement from me.
"I can't...I can't just say that Sam, I just can't."
"Then you're not ready."
She sighs frustratedly.
"Look. I don't know how much time we even have left, but I do know Spencer will be waking up with one hell of a hangover in a couple hours. We're in a basically sound-proof room."
"Carly. I don't care if we're in the middle of the street, I'm not doing anything until you love me enough to tell me so. Don't show me, tell me."
"Sam..."
I groan because this argument is doing nothing but going in circles.
"If you want this bad enough, you'll prove that you love me the right way."
All of a sudden, her eyes sparkle with determination and commitment and strength and, finally, love, the kind I had always wanted to see. Then she pounces on me and I land back on the beanbag with a whoosh, arching one eyebrow to just dare her to try anything. And she does, she lowers her face as physically close to mine as possible, eyes boring holes into mine, every muscle in my body straining against hers in a half-attempt to get her off me, when Carly says it, at long fucking last.
She whispers "I love you, Sam," so lightly against my lips that the chills come back, that it almost sounded effortless when I knew it was so the opposite, and I immediately crush myself against her in an ever-so-grateful kiss. So her real love declaration wasn't exactly fireworks-inducing, or world-shattering, but it meant everything to me, because it was everything she had to give me. Because I knew how hard it was for her to say that. Because I knew what she had gone through over those three stupid words, and I promised her it wouldn't happen again. I have to protect her.
Part of me wondered how much longer I had until this all got shot to hell like everything else.