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Don't let insecure thoughts ruin something amazing.
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I was pacing again. I was a fidgety and nervous mess. It felt like someone had strung a rope around my stomach and pulled it so tightly it was getting hard to breathe. My tummy hurt so badly I thought I was going to be sick. Any minute now, I would have to take a trip to the bathroom of that I was sure.
I checked the clock on the kitchen wall before resuming my pacing in the hall. Any minute now his truck would arrive on my street, the wooden flooring of the porch would creak under his feet before he'd ring the doorbell.
My hands had started fidgeting around an hour ago, rubbing my arms, running through my hair, hugging my torso while waiting for his arrival. My chest was so tight it left me breathless and, in addition, seriously making me consider if I was suffering from a heart attack since the organ in my chest was palpitating by the second.
I was deeply regretting to have called him last night, but, in a way, I also felt relieved.
I was twisting the ring on my index finger around, looking down at it while coming to a halt a feet away from the door. My feet were itching to get me back to moving them around, but I stood still, paralyzed.
That's when I heard it. The slowing of a car's engine. The opening and closing of a door. The footsteps against pavement and a minute later against wood. A set of feet coming to an abrupt halt.
I squeezed my eyes shut, my breath catching in my lungs.
And then...
The ringing of the doorbell.
My heart skipped a beat at the sound. My mind was fuzzy as I approached the door. Slowly, I reached out to settle my hand against the doorknob. I took a deep, deep breath before removing the last thing that separated us.
I swear, my heart stopped beating the moment my gaze settled on his form. "Sam." My voice sounded unsteady and totally unlike myself. It seemed as though I couldn't quite believe he was actually standing in front of me.
His light brown hair nestled neatly on top of his head, a sunbeam falling against the stunning blue gray of his eyes, causing them to shine some more. The white v-neck he was wearing hugged the muscles in his torso nicely and accentuated his biceps. A tattoo was peeking out from underneath the short sleeve of his left arm. There was another one on the inside of his forearm, but before I could properly figure out what it was I looked away.
He gave me the smallest of smiles which was very unlike him since he'd normally have a permanent grin etched into his features. I welcomed him inside and walked him into our kitchen. "I'm glad you called."
I ignored the urge to grimace and instead asked if he wanted a drink. He didn't. A heavy, tension-filled silence settled over the room. I rubbed my neck uncomfortably, averting my eyes. What should I say? Oh God, why hadn't I properly thought this through? Of course he was waiting for me to say something, I ordered him here.
I could feel his eyes on me while I studied the kitchen island as though the answer to my question was somewhere hiding in the granite.
"Liz?"
Hearing my name, my head snapped up. I hummed.
"Why am I here?"
I let out a deep breath, not knowing what to answer.
"Don't get me wrong I'm glad you wanted to see me, but..."
I sighed and ran a hand over my face. "I don't know," I answered truthfully. "I don't know why you are here. Or why I wanted to see you. I just know that I..." I trailed off, not able to speak the words that were lingering on the tip of my tongue.
He took a step closer to me. "That you what?"
I gazed at him and at that moment I didn't care if I made a fool out of myself. The minute the words left my lips the tension in my body was gone. "That I missed you."
For a moment, he eyed me in wonder then he broke out in a grin, making my heart warm. He took another step closer. "I missed you too."
My heart accelerated as he reached out and cupped my face gently in his hands. "Does this mean you want to give us another try?"
At his words, my breath got locked up in my throat. Did I? After all, nothing had changed. I was still the same. Our situation, my situation hadn't changed. I was better off alone. Everyone was better off without my drama.
I sighed and pushing his hands away, I spun around. "I don't know, okay?!" I was so very frustrated.
"What do you mean 'you don't know'?" There was an annoyed edge to his voice that even a deaf person would have heard. "Do you like me or not?" He was getting tired of me already.
"I..."
He grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face him. "Yes or no, Liz?" He snapped.
"Yes!" I was close to yelling now, pushing his hands off me. "Yes, I like you, okay? But... sometimes that's just not enough!"
He looked confused. "What-What do you mean?"
"I mean that if you want what's good for you, you need to stop!" I ran a frustrated hand over my forehead and down the side of my face. "Stop texting me! Stop calling! Stop wanting me!"
He stared at me, mouth slightly agape. "Liz, what are you trying to tell me?"
"I'm not good for you!" My chest felt lighter than it had in days.
His features turned into a frown. "What? Liz, you're talking nonsense." Before I could reply he continued. "Wait, is this the reason you pushed me away?"
I was silent. We both were for some time. I couldn't manage to look at him. I couldn't tell him the truth, couldn't bring myself to lie myself out bare in front of him. We were living in the 21 century. Still, that didn't mean that everyone would react to the fact that I was fucked up like Miles. The stigma of mental illnesses was still running at its highest and it was getting harder to break. Mental illnesses were often thought of as negatively in our society.
So, even if I would tell him the truth about my mental health there was no guarantee that he'd react in a positive way. If I risked telling him and the outcome wasn't to my liking it would break me. I was glad that nothing of the sort had happened to me, but once it would something in me wouldn't be able to get over it.
"Why do you like me?" I asked so lowly I wasn't sure he heard me.
His head snapped up to meet my gaze. "What?"
"Why do you like me?"
"I don't understand."
"Why do you like me!? Huh? I'm clumsy! I'm weird! I'm cold! I'm bitter! I'm selfish! So, I don't get why you like me! I don't get why you'd want to be with me!" I took a step closer to him. "So, why, Sam? Why?" My voice had turned incredibly soft.
He looked at me strangely. "Why? You wanna know why?! Because.. Because-"
He grabbed my face and kissed me and in doing so shut me up pretty fast.
At first, I stood there, stunned into a block of ice, but soon enough I was melting against him. I reached for his shoulders as I pressed myself closer to him, kissing him back just as eager. This time around the kiss was rougher, the pace more forceful. He gripped both my hips in his strong hands as his scent invaded my senses. The smell of his cologne-not overpowering rather just noticeable-was a stark contrast to his lips against mine, rough, relentless. The combination had my head spinning and my blood pumping.
When he tried to deepen the kiss I tentatively parted my lips. My heart was running wild in my chest, I swear I could hear it in my ears. I was sure my cheeks were flushed to an extreme as his taste took over my senses. He tasted like coffee and mint, which didn't sound like much but the sweet mixture had a flash of heat flowing over my form deliciously.
I shivered as he pulled back and ran his tongue along my bottom lip.
For another moment, I stood with my eyes still closed, slightly out of breath. He stroked my hair away from my face in a gentle manner that was completely different to the way he'd kissed me not long ago. I could feel his eyes on me as I tried to make sense of what just happened.
"What if you're wrong?"
I opened my eyes and looked at him in question.
He was gazing down at me with a softness to his features that was conflicting to the hardness in his eyes. "What if I'm not good for you?"
The question had me taken aback for a second before I reached out to cup his face and smiled at him. His eyes went gentle at my smile. "Not possible," I said before I got onto tiptoes and kissed him again.
The kiss was slow and gentle unlike the one before. It caused my heart to flutter and made me feel lightheaded. And suddenly I realized that he hadn't answered my question. His answer to the question why he liked me was a kiss. But did he kiss me, because it was the best way to describe what he felt or did he kiss me to evade answering.
I didn't linger on the thought, because the moment he wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace, lips still locked with mine, I realized I didn't care.
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Hey guys
So....
I'm not sure if you hate me right now, but I'm positive you'll let me know. Anyone happy about that Sam development? No? Okay...
School is freaking slowly but surely coming to an end. There's little over a month left of exams, drama, stress, homework and a concert. You remember that solo I mentioned a few chapters back? My first solo? Yeah, well it went well, but now I have the opportunity to perform it in front of a much larger audience and I'm so torn...
But whatever, tell me what you think about Slam... Too soon?
Please vote/comment?
Hugs and kisses
Kathy