connie.

    thin, long, skinny hands that were a bit shaky went to both
    sides of sam’s face, worry still dressing her features and a
    tooth biting onto her bottom lip. they lightly kept their grasp
    on his face, hoping that the shuttering of her hands weren’t
    to disturbing. “ just paint, i promise. “ and she wasn’t even
    sure if he was just saying that because he wanted to get 
    away from the situation.

    “ i’m so sorry, sam, “ she then went into for a hug, her body
    still weak. she felt so bad that he had come into her life, she
    felt so bad that so much of her weight was put on him. there
    was always something so good in her life and she had to go
    on and show this part of herself. god, did she hate it, but a
    sliver of hope was always hanging onto her hand, telling her
    to keep trying. 

      this shield, this avoidance to delve deeper into the worrisome
      thoughts stayed true to its position. it deflected anymore
      suspicions & sam was oddly okay with that. at least for the
      meantime. how long could he avoid these recurring issues
      though? he isn’t sure. 

     “if you say so..”

      sam wraps his arms around her frame, draped around lightly
      but tight enough to keep her close. there’s always a part of
      him that will always prefer her, troubles & all. throwing it all
      away over something that could be made by paranoia is not
      part of his plans anytime soon.

     “it’s okay,” he answers, voice growing soft as he lightly
      kisses her temple. “maybe it’s about time you move the paint
     out of his room,” he jokes, tightening the hug.