𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐲 | robin buckley

(4) the villain and the vigilante

SAM SMUDGED BLACK EYELINER AROUND HER WATERLINE it crumbled in specks from age which she scraped with dry tissues until the skin around her eyes turned slightly red and she considered starting all over again. She rubbed her eyes, trying to get somewhere between hot and raccoon. The smudges made her look tired and stood out strangely against her pale skin. However this was a part of Sam's signature at this point, she was tired, why hide it?

She brushed her hair for what felt like the hundredth time, checking her roots for any blonde sticking through. Usually Sam would have to go over the small patches every week so stop herself from looking like a reverse skunk. Her sink was stained in small marks of black dye and her hands had a certain shadowed tinge to them which would probably never go away.

Continuing her untidy rituals of getting ready, she stroked clumps of mascara onto her eyelashes and tried to thin them out by applying more. This never worked very well. Sam cursed flickering her eyelashes with her fingertips until they looked less tacky. Then she picked up some perfume that she'd stolen about two years ago from some convenience store. It smelt like mens aftershave but Sam liked the almost musky scent that it gave her.

She looked at herself in the mirror again, her heart dancing around in her chest. Her rings lay perfectly on her fingers, the cheap silver rusting around the edges and leaving her skin slightly green when she wore them for a long period of time. By this point they fit into the grooves on her fingers. She wore chains over her bare collarbones, one with a large silver cross dangling from it, the bottom ending perfectly where the line of her breasts started. The necklace was ironic although her relationship with God was such a large part of her previous life that it was hard to shake. So maybe somewhere when she put it on she knew there were deeper reasons than just humour.

In her ears she wore metal skulls that pulled against her lobes, her hair tucked behind her ears so they could glitter in the light. Sam took a deep breath, loosening her belt slightly against her dark wash jeans. They were lower on her waist than the other ones she owned which revealed the tattoos decorating her stomach including the 1966 tattoo and also some newer additions including a scorpion that swirled around her skin and the pair of cherries that were actually two magic eight balls.

Her jeans were ripped and small lines of ink showed on her thighs and her knees too. Sam wasn't sure she liked the feeling of being exposed but when she lifted her boots to the sink and tied them tight she kept in mind that it was summer, people dressed like this all the time and it didn't mean anything.

Sam rubbed some flavourless lip-balm onto her lips to hide the cracks before she grabbed her back and slung it over her shoulder. She took a deep breath, spinning her rings round her fingers. She hated that she was so nervous, Sam had never been like this before, not that she could remember anyway.

The only other time she'd properly allowed herself to have a crush on a woman who existed in her life was Angel and in that case things had been wildly different. Sam had formed a strange level of confidence that day she'd strode into the changing rooms and now she was a pathetic and embarrassing bundle of nerves. She wished her cool and collected personality would come back, maybe then she wouldn't be a fool.

Peony was being dropped off when she opened the out of her apartment into the open air. Maisie was giving her the usual talk about how to behave for Sam even when the girl was always a delight. She had her hair tied in plaits today, pink ribbons at the ends. Sam liked that they were complete polar opposites.

"Hi Sam" Peony grinned as Maisie gave her daughter and the babysitter and happy wave before she drove off.

"You good kid?" Sam patted Peony's head lightly, trying not to mess her perfectly tight hair.