Chapter Seventy Five

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Aurora

"Happy anniversary, Scarl," Sam smiled fondly as I pulled open the front door, a bouquet of red roses and sunflowers clutched in his hand.

 "Happy anniversary, babe," I beamed, taking the floral arrangement from him. "They're lush, thank you."

"You're welcome," he flushed bashfully, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Come in a second, I'll just pop these in a vase and grab the picnic basket," I told him, retreating into the hallway and out to the kitchen with Sam hot on my heels. With my free hand, I opened one of the cupboards that held the vases and groaned when I realised I wouldn't be able to reach. "Sam, will yer grab one down for me, please?"

"Sure," he agreed. He moved to beside me and held my hip as he reached up to grab a clear vase from the top shelf effortlessly. "Here."

"S'not fair," I pouted, accepting the glass from him carefully.

Sam let out a soft chuckle and dipped his head to press a kiss to my cheek. "It's alreet, it's what I'm here for," he laughed.

"I suppose so," I breathed, catching my bottom lip between my teeth as I leaned into his warm body, which was constantly like a furnace. He shut the cupboard door and watched as I filled the vase up with water and rid the bouquet of it's paper packaging.

"Be careful-"

"Ow," I hissed as I caught my finger on one of the rose thorns. I immediately raised my finger to my mouth and suckled at the tiny amount of blood that had been drawn, sending Sam into overdrive.

"Don't do that," he scolded me, pulling my arm away gently so he could inspect the puncture. "It don't look that bad, here, run it under the water, darlin'." I studied him carefully as he ran the tap and guided my hand underneath the running water before moving away. It was almost like he was in his own home the way he manoevered about the kitchen, searching for god knows what. "Aha!"

"What?" I laughed as I rose on my tiptoes to see what he hand in his hand. He tore some kitchen roll from its holder and tugged my hand towards him lightly, drying my soaking finger with it and wiping away the blood at the same time.

"Hold that there," he instructed me. I raised an eyebrow but didn't question him, clutching it over my very minor injury as he pulled the plaster in his hands out of the packaging.

"Are yer serious?" I snorted as he pulled the paper towel away and wrapped the tan-coloured plaster around my finger. "It woulda stopped bleeding in like five minutes, babe. I didn't need a plaster."

"Fuckin' hell, shoot a lad for trying like," he teased, tugging me towards him by my waist. Instinctively, my hands rested on his chest to steady myself and a large smile painted itself on my lips. "Couldn't have me missus bleeding oot on wor anniversary now, could I?"

"You're so fuckin' dramatic," I giggled. "Yer coulda just kissed it better, ya know?"

"Alreet then," he huffed, grabbing my hand and bringing it up to his face, pressing a gentle kiss against the plaster. "Happy?"

"Happier than ever," I told him with a smile, rising on my tiptoes to join my lips with his, my arms snaking around his neck.

"I've got to eat in here, ya know," my dad interrupted, causing us both to jump in fright.

"Jesus, dad. Yer scared the lights oot of us," I scolded as the two of us parted.

"Cry me a river," he spoke, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"Now I understand where Rora gets it from," Sam snorted.

"My lil' mini me, aren't yer, pet?" my dad grinned, ruffling my hair.

I batted his hand away from me in a feeble attempt to save my hair from ruin. "Dad!" I whined.

"You're so dramatic, Scarlett," Sam teased.

My dad held his arms in the air as he spoke, "Now, that's not something she got from me." He laughed as I let out a scowl. "I thought yous were meant to be going oot anyway?"

"We are, I was just putting these flowers in a vase," I told him with a fond smile.

"Flowers, eh?" my dad smirked at my boyfriend, who began growing red.

"Only the best for her," he grinned, pulling me into his side.

"Yer picked a good'n, kid," my dad smiled at me. "Gan, get oot of here. I'll put these in the vase."

"Thanks, dad," I beamed as Sam grabbed the picnic blanket from the kitchen table. I pressed a kiss against my dad's cheek and snatched the blankets I had folded ready, taking Sam's hand in mine and pulling him towards the front door.

"I hope yer wrapped up warm, it's freezing oot," he told me as I shut the front door of my house.

I smiled and leaned into him. "I've got about three layers on," I laughed.

"At least we've got the blankets, too," he pointed out.

"Yeah," I agreed. "We're gan be freezing either way. Why did we agree to have a picnic on the beach in the middle of December?"

"Yer know why," he muttered, rolling his eyes fondly at my teasing.

"Oh, yeah," I spoke, pretending to have forgotten the reason why. He snorted and bumped his arm against mine gently, the scenery around us blurring into the background as we focussed on each other.

"Can yer believe it's been three years?" he asked.

"I know," I mumbled. "And a long fuckin' three years its been."

"Oi," he protested, his mouth falling open in shock as he stared down at me in disbelief.

"I'm teasing," I assured him with a smile, leaning my head on his shoulder.

"Better be," he grumbled, eliciting a loud laugh from my lips.

"Three years of me and you," I whispered. "And what a three years its been."

"I never woulda imagined this would happen because yer punched some school bully like," he snorted.

"Nah, nor me," I agreed with a loud laugh.

"I wouldn't change it for the world, though," he told me.

"Me neither," I beamed, squeezing his hand three times.

A/N: Yes, I wrote another chapter instead of doing my assignment :))

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