Heated Arguments, Heated Make-outs

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~If you can't wash the dishes, don't eat~❤️

Sam sat up and watched her frolicking around in the pool, trying to splash water on him. Her red one-piece, snug on her was doing it's best to distract him from the elephant right out there with them.

The one Zelah decided to ignore blatantly.

She had been swimming for almost an hour while he was lounging on a beach chair, catching up on his report for her for work. It was enough distraction as it is.

“Come hereeee. The water is awesome!” She said with another splash, grinning at him.

The sun was bright that afternoon, high up in the sky and it cast a glow on her. Either that or she was absorbing the sun rays.

“I’m good. Have fun, you need it.” He said and waved at her.

“We both do.” She walked up the stairs of the pool and Sam suddenly found his report very interesting.

She came and sat beside him, lifting her towel from his back.

“You're putting water all over me!” He groaned and moved over to escape her. She giggled and hugged him to her.

“You're wet now, so you can't say no.” She laughed loudly, holding on to his slightly thrashing body.

“Fine, fine. Just stop hugging me, I'm colder than you now.” He said curtly, finally succeeding in peeling her off. “Now there's water all over my paper. Are you happy now?”

She dried off with her towel, gazing at him curiously. “Are we good? Did I do something wrong?”

“No” he avoided her gaze, “you did nothing.”

“I asked two questions. Sam, what's going on?” Her voice was a little shaky.

He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile but it just made it worse. “Nothing's going on. I'm going inside for a while. Please don't stop on my account.”

He grazed his lips over her cheek and left her sitting there, staring after him.

His walk back to the room felt twice as long because of the many thoughts flying around in his head. Making her unhappy was something that he promised himself that he'd never do.

Great job, genius.

He was scared out of his mind. It was their last day at the hotel and he didn't want to leave even though he had to. The fear of saying the words was so much that it choked him, leaving no way to tell her what he was feeling.

He looked behind him for the second time to see if she followed him but found no one. Sighing, he opened the door and went in, falling on to the bed.

The sheets and the smell of her on it helped him remember the night before, and he didn't want to think about it. He laid there, staring at the ceiling.

Zelah wasn't one to let something go. She was going to come after him and demand an answer. He had no idea what to say to her.

Could it be along the lines of  ‘ I thought I was your personal superhero because you could sleep peacefully in my arms but now that's gone’?

And to add the part that's really bugging him 'you went through all the trouble of trying not to scream or wake me but it was in vain because I was awake from the minute you jerked awake from your nightmare’?

Those weren't viable options. He didn't want her to know that he knows in the hope that maybe she'll tell him.

It's been six hours.

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