So, this took far longer than I expected. Thanks to the review and those who have read. I hope to hear more from y'all in future chapters.
A bright white light shined through Sam's closed eyes. Was that the light at the end of the tunnel everyone talks about? For the first time in several years Sam allowed herself to hope. Perhaps she'd finally get peace. Sure it was a pity not to have had peace in life, but at this point beggars couldn't exactly be choosers. Hope was a nice change. Rather than a deep depression hitting her square in the chest and sinking into the pit of her gut, like despair might, hope swelled in her chest filling her with small bubbles of joy. Bubbles that when popped made a person giggle. Her lips parted slightly in anticipation of these glorious moments of delirium. Instead of light hearted giggles, her breath came out as agonized moan. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Pain was supposed to stop after a person died. So why did it feel like someone cracked her over the skull with a toilet.
"Ya awake, lass?"
Sam's eyelids peeled back, blinking against the naked intensity of fluorescent lights. Good God it was so bright. The light burned into her eyes as it reflected off of her too white surroundings. White curtains hung from the ceiling. White blankets lay over her body. Her eyes squinted against the assault. She tilted her head to the side seeking out something, anything to rest her sensitive eyes on.
Oh dear, what luck. To her right sat the most devastatingly handsome man she'd seen in her entire life. His head was resting on a bridge of his fingers with his elbows braced on the bed. Sam blinked rapidly, praying this wasn't a hallucination.
Her gorgeous companion was clad in a simple black sweater that seemed almost too big on his body. The sleeves hung passed his wrists and much of his skin and a beaded necklace exposed at the collar. Her eyes traveled up the lean muscles of his neck to his face. A days growth of facial hair lightly covered his gently chiseled jaw. She wondered absent mindedly if it would feel scratchy or soft under her fingers. Would it buff her skin into a fresh flush, or would it glide against her skin. Sam caught herself staring, deeply enthralled with his lips. She tried to distract herself from the wave of lustful thoughts by turning her gaze to the charming little mole perched at the corner of his upper lip. A better focal point would have been the ceiling. Of a church. With the pope on standby. Still, baby steps seemed the best route. She finally managed to steer her eyes elsewhere settling on his hair. It was dark brown, almost black and cut short except for his sideburns, which came to haphazard points at the base of both ears. His lovely features were punctuated by a pair of piercing blue eyes. A flash of the previous evening hit her. Those bright eyes had stared at her, calling her out odd the darkness. Once again these eyes were fixed on her.
He gifted her with a crooked smile. "Well, hello thar." Oh goodness, his voice was so soft, even with the Irish accent.
"Hi." Sam croaked. At least she could blame her quick fire wit on the near death experience.
Mr. Gorgeous stood up and walked to the foot of the bed. He parted the curtains and called out through the opening, "Connor! She's awake." A commotion sounded from the hall. The dark haired man walked back to her side and ran a finger gently under her chin, turning her to face him. Not that it was necessary. Why would she ever want to look at anything else?
"'s thar anyone we can call lass?" Sam shook her head as tears filled her eyes. He frowned slightly, "Sh, 's a'right, lass." He stroked her cheek with the back of hospital knuckles. "Don't 'cha go worrying bout that now."
"Well look at that. I leave ya alone for two minutes, Murph, and y'already trying t'put th'moves on 'er." Sam turned, half in outrage at this new voice that broke her through her shrine of bliss.
Oh dear sweet God in heaven there were two of 'em?
The man at her side strolled over to the newcomer and punched him in the shoulder. "Shut 't Conn."
Sam stared in amazement at the two men at the foot of her bed. At least she new their names now. Murph leaned into Connor and whispered something in his ear, to which he frowned in response. In that frown Sam noticed the similarities starting to show. Both men were of similar height and build. They carried themselves with the same sort of cocky bearing. They had to be related. They even wore the same sweater over blue jeans with the exception of Connor's sleeves being pushed up to husband elbows. However where Murph had a softer countenance, Connor gave off a rougher appeal. His hair was a few shades lighter than Murph's, and was styled up, adding a couple of inches to his height. His jaw was more rugged in its form, but sprinkled with similar fuzz. Sam's breath caught in her throat as she noticed Connor's own pair of stunning blue eyes. She felt faint under the force of the two pairs of cerulean blue. Once again she found herself captivated by a perfect pair of lips. Sam's jaw dropped and did a marionette dance as she tried to find something to say. It did not help that her lack of speech was met with a twin pair of crooked smiles.
A loud scraping rattled through the silence. The two men parted quickly as a petite elderly lady in a nurse's uniform shouldered her way towards Sam's side. The nurse snatched a pen from her pocket and began to scribble on the metal clipboard in her white knuckled grasp.
"Glad to see you're awake," the nurse said from behind her clipboard. "Now can you tell me your name?" Sam glanced at the woman, who was tucking a salt and pepper strand of hair back out of her eyes. She would have loved to tell the nurse her name. If only she could remember what that name was.
"Miss?"
"Yes, sorry." Sam stroked her temple in attempt to massage the answer out. "Samantha."
"Samantha What, dear."
Sam licked her suddenly dry lips. "M.."
"Mcmanus." Both Sam and the nurse turned to the delightful pair, still at the foot of the bed. Connor turned that charming crooked smile on full blast at the nurse. He strolled casually to Sam's side and placed a rough warm hand around her cold placid fingers.
"Mc... Ah... Mcmanus?" the nurse asked, clearly flustered under the effects of such a male specimen.
"Yes."
"So you two gentlemen know this young lady?"
"Course we know 'er." Connor squeezed her hand lightly as he spoke. "She's our baby sister."
Sam turned to Murph and cocked her head at him. He gifted her with his own smirk and winked. Something in that last smile melted her insides. If there was any time to throw caution to the wind and live, now was definitely it.
"Is that right miss?"
Sam turned back to the nurse, giving the woman her poor imitation of that amazing smile. "Course it 's," she blurted out. "Now when can ya let me brothers take me home? Me Ma must be worried sick."