AN Yea for the reviews! I know this is a bit fluffy, but in all honesty it felt necessary. Hope y'all enjoy it. Please continue the reviews! AN
Sleep can be one of the most blessed things, for a person to succumb to. The troubles of the day are left at the doorstep of consciousness, allowing another of life's weary travelers to bask in the lack of obstacles and obligations. Sam couldn't help but feel bitterness towards the once time friend. Perhaps it was the lack of obligations currently in her life, the shift of luck that had come out of left field, or perhaps it was the gorgeously mouth-watering man she'd been about to kiss. Sam clawed through her own foggy mind, desperate to get back to that pleasant reality awaiting her company.
She felt her fingers twitch against her face. She kept her eyes clenched shut in desperate anticipation, letting her other senses take in her latest surroundings first. She assumed Connor and Murphy had taken her to their place. It had been the plan of course, but from the smell alone she felt they must have arrived. It wasn't an offensive smell. On the contrary it was quite warming. That intensely male smell filled her nose, pooled down her throat, and filled her body.
Please. Please. Please.
Sam peered through her anxious eyelids, hopeful at what lay beyond. More darkness greeted her. Blinking in confusion, she realized she must have slept through the rest of the day. As her eyes adjusted to the night's affects, much less of a murky swamp than unexpected unconsciousness, Sam started to notice a shape forming amongst other shapes across the way. Her breath caught in her throat. The shape formed into a toned back lay stretched on a bare mattress on the floor. Her eyes traveled along the muscles, stretched out in restful ease. Muscles that disappeared under a thin sheet hanging about his waist. She bit her lip, curious as to what lay beneath that sheet. Judging from the paleness of skin and darkness of hair, she guessed it was Murphy slumbering away on the matt.
Glancing down, she saw a similar flat mattress and sheet wrapped about her body. It certainly wasn't the most supportive mattress she'd ever laid upon, but it was more than she'd had in a long time. She raised her arms gingerly over her head and arched her back in a small stretch; fingertips grazing the cool wall behind her. She whimpered slightly, as the skin and muscles, torn from her frightening encounter, argued their displeasure with her movements. Sighing, Sam curled back up onto her side. A small squeal broke through the silence in the loft. Realizing that the squeal had indeed come from her, she looked about for the reason for her outburst. An arm, not her own, lay under her arm (logically Connor's), and nestled between her breasts. Warm breath tickled the back of her neck, brushing her hair against the sensitive skin.
Pain wrenched through her. It wasn't a pain from her wounds. In fact, it was much deeper. Before she'd even called the streets home, this particular pain was very familiar to her. The bitter pang of loneliness. How many times had she laid down, whether it was in a cot next to her mother's sick bed, or inside a makeshift tent in a park, and imagined comfort. A pretend companion to push away the ache. Someone who would hold her. Someone who would brush away her tears. She would pretend someone's arms would wrap her up and protect her. Phantom arms and phantom warmth needed to dull the ache of a lonely heart.
Hot tears spilled horizontally along her face soaking part of her hair and the mattress. She bit her lip trying to soften the sound of her pain. The corded muscles in the arm at her chest tightened with the oncoming sobs, shaking her body. Sam felt a hot body press its length against the back of hers. She pushed back, trying to get as much of his warmth into her. Warmth to revive a broken soul. Connor's knee came up between her thighs, pulling her further into his body. Sam let herself sink into his embrace, and let the tears come. Comfort and affection was such a precious commodity. To have it given so freely arose in her a desperate greedy hunger. She wrapped his hand in her own, crying more openly. Soft lips brushed her ear, whispering in a language she could not understand, but was strangely comforting. She forced her eyes to remain open. In her times of unbearable weakness, she had to keep her eyes clenched shut, maintaining the illusion of someone holding her. Now that there was someone actually there, she would not deny any of her senses. Blinking rapidly, Sam saw Murphy roll over and smile softly at her. Sniffling, she watched as he scooted over on his mattress. Connor's fingers, still tucked against her chest, brushed lightly along her collar bone. Murphy reached out and slid his hand under her cheek, rubbing his thumb over the wet trails of her tears. Sam smiled. Connor curled against her back. Murphy reaching out from a short ways. Sleep found her easily.