Sam
"Sam!" my mam yelled. "Will ya get the door?"
"Aye!" I replied, reluctantly discarding my guitar on the bed next to me and stalking out of my room to the front door. Swinging the door open, I was surprised to find Dean and Harlow. I let out a sigh, knowing the interrogation that was about to come. Wordlessly, I stepped aside, allowing the two to come in and held in a grunt as Harlow barged her shoulder into mine.
"Sorry," she apologised with a sickly sweet smile on her face but both she and I knew she wasn't.
"Who is it, Sam?" my mam asked from the next room.
"Dean and Harlow," I told her. There was a moment of silence whilst I waited for her to respond, only hearing the sound of her footsteps instead.
"No Rory?" she frowned, appearing in the doorway.
"Actually," Harlow began as she folded her arms across her chest, "Rory is-"
"Busy! Today," I cut her off, my eyes blowing wide in fear. I still had yet to inform my mother that Rory and I had once again split.
"Oh," my mam muttered. "Well, yous have fun. I'll be oot here if yous need anything."
"Thanks, Shirl," Dean smiled, tugging gently on Harlow's arm as the three of us made our way into my room.
"Reet, reet! Harlow!" I blurted out, holding my arms up defensively and backing away as she closed the gap between us with a raised fist and a scowl on her face. In my cowering state, I hadn't realised that Dean had pulled her backwards and reprimanded her.
"Just let me hit him!" she hissed.
"Harlow, no," Dean scolded.
"Harlow, yes," she spat.
"Let's just use our words, shall we?" I laughed nervously, my mouth snapping closed when Harlow's head snapped in my direction like a possessed doll, her glare poisonous. It was terrifying. "Alreet, alreet."
"I've said it before and I'll say it again. You, Sam Fender, are a fuckin' arsehole!" she growled.
"I know," I muttered.
"The day after her birthday like!" she fumed. "And over the phone. Fuckin' idiot."
"Alreet, I get it," I huffed. "Would ya keep it down? Me mam don't know."
"Well, maybe she oughta," she grumbled.
"Harls," Dean mumbled, nudging her arm lightly.
"He deserves it," she whined.
"Aye, maybe but we came here to talk to him, not yell at him," he told her sternly.
"No, you came here to talk to him. I came here to yell at him," she retorted.
Dean shook his head at his girlfriend's actions and rolled his eyes before focusing his attention on me. "What happened?"
"What has she told yous?" I asked as I threw myself on my bed, cautious of the guitar that lay there.
"That you were in a bad mood when she phoned ya... that ya told her she was suffocating you and that you needed space, that yous should take a break," he sighed. "What happened? The two of yous were gan great."
"I just... I need my own space," I shrugged.
"Cunt," Harlow muttered under her breath, masking it with a cough. Dean's eyes flickered over to her warningly but chose not to comment.
"And ya couldn't have gone about it in a better way?" he huffed. I stayed quiet. "You need to sort this temper of yours oot, Sam. 'Cause one day, people aren't gan put up with it anymore. Especially that lass."
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Drop Dead | Sam Fender
Fanfiction'Did you come around here just to start a fight? Drop dead.' Sam's difficulty with relationships stems all the way back to his adolescence. He hasn't had it easy growing up in the Northeast of England but he managed to escape his teens unscathed. Mo...
