Greta Van Fleet Imagines

Bags (Sam) Part 1

Based on the song Bags by Clairo (please give it a listen I've had it on repeat for weeks).

This is going to be in multiple parts; I watched the Genius interview with Clairo about the meaning behind this song, and really loved it. Having a crush on someone and not knowing how they feel is hard, but knowing that telling them could ruin what you already have with them is even worse. So without further ado, here is that scenario with Sam.

You didn't want to watch tv anymore. All you wanted was to be with him, and only him.

Sitting on the couch, both under the same blanket and his head on your shoulder, you longed for him to stop the movie and tell you he liked you, or simply turn his head and kiss you. Anything to indicate he was here for the same reason as you, and not just to watch the Avengers for the fifth time.

You had been madly in love with Sam Kiszka ever since you met several years ago. He'd become one of your best friends, but you always wanted more out of the relationship, and had been trying to figure out if he felt the same. The two of you had gotten really close, and you didn't want to mess that up, so you had stayed quiet. It was normal for you both to be touchy feely with one another, always cuddling up during a movie or on long car rides; it killed you.

"I'm gonna make some popcorn, you want any?" You ask, getting up from the couch.

"Yeah but make sure there's extra butter!" Sam calls after you as you walk into the kitchen.

"I'm not making it soggy Sam." You laugh, pulling out the popcorn kernels and popper. Sam often times would add too much butter to his popcorn until it was squishy and no longer crunchy, and it drives you crazy. As you begin to make the popcorn and grab glasses of water, you hear Sam on the phone. The mention of your name causes you to move towards the living room in curiosity.

"Yeah, I'm with her. Move night. God Jake you always say that. I do not need to stay safe! We're just friends. I'll talk to you later." Your heart drops as you hear him drop the F bomb. You knew him feeling how you did was just wishful thinking, but hearing him say "just friends" out loud hurts like hell. You try to shake off the feeling and go back to the popcorn, keeping your usual normal smile on your face as you go back to Sam.

"With extra butter." You say and hand him the bowl, sitting back down on the couch quickly so as to avoid eye contact with him.

"You're the best." He says, and turns back to the movie. After a couple minutes, he throws himself into your lap, stretching out across the couch and resting his head on your legs.

"If you could be any of the Avengers, who would it be?" He asks casually, looking up at you with his big brown eyes. You hesitate, thinking for a moment.

"Does Captain Marvel count? She's a total badass."

"Hell yeah I'll count her, you'd make a great Captain Marvel." Sam smiles. "I personally would be Spiderman. I feel like it fits."

"Besides being a complete nerd, you've definitely got the personality." Sam nods in agreement, and you giggle. As much as you loved these conversations with him, you didn't want to just talk about random, meaningless things. You wanted deeper conversations, heartfelt ones, or even to not talk at all, and do... well, other things. But as Sam said, you were just friends.

Sam falls asleep in your lap, and you spend the rest of the movie deep in your thoughts. He's here with you, right now, and no one else. That has to mean something, right? But you were both really close friends, and you figured that's what friends do. All you want is to tell him, to explain how you really feel, and see if there is any chance of him feeling the same; that can't happen, at least not now, and you didn't want to be too forward. He'd probably make fun of you or laugh about it anyway. No, for now, every minute with him counts, and you just want to enjoy it. What's the rush?

The movie ends, and Sam stirs. He yawns and stretches, sitting up and rubbing a hand over his face.

"What time is it?" He asks sleepily, his eyes still not fully open.

"It's around 12:30." You reply, shifting on the couch. This was the part where Sam was going to tell you he should probably get going, even though you always wish he would stay.

"I should probably get going." He says, standing up. You nod, and follow him to the door. You wanted to offer him your couch for the night, but knew he had to be up early for a rehearsal anyway. You hold open the door for him, but he hesitates in the doorway.

"So I'll see you later tomorrow?" He asks, running a hand through his hair, almost nervously.

"Yeah, sounds good." You reply with a small smile, trying not to notice or get excited over the way his eyes seem to have wandered towards your lips, if only for half a second.

"Okay." To your surprise, he hesitantly tucks a piece of hair that fell out of your ponytail behind your ear. "Your hair looks cute like that, by the way."

You blush. "Thanks." You say, looking at your feet instead of him. He awkwardly takes a step back and gives a small wave, then heads down the driveway. You close the door and lean against it, your heart beating in your chest. What was that? That felt like something, something more than him being your best friend. But you couldn't get your hopes up; he told Jake you two were just friends. But whatever it was felt good, felt right, and even though it was absolute radio silence when it came to both of you saying how you felt, it was better than Sam walking out the door and not coming back.