Sam
I was awoken by the soft snores that fell from my girlfriend's lips as her head rested against the white pillow, blonde hair splayed out on the fabric. I smiled as I studied her, blinking the tiredness away from my eyes and bringing a hand to rest on her bare stomach, over the small bump that had begun showing.
Being the middle of June, it was rather warm and Rory had been opting to sleep in a cropped top and a pair of underwear. It gave me the perfect opportunity to hold her bump at night. I couldn't help it, I just wanted to hold it all the time. Which was fine in the comfort of our homes but when we were in public, I had to stop myself from doing it. There have been a few close calls but luckily they were narrowly avoided.
I brushed my thumb against the skin of her stomach softly, letting a small smile tug at my lips as I pressed a kiss to Rory's forehead. She shifted slightly, scrunching her eyes together tightly as she began to wake up.
"Mornin'," Rory yawned, staring up at me with a tired smile.
"Mornin', darlin'," I hummed, leaning over to press a slow kiss against her lips.
She let out a quiet moan, lifting her arm and grasping the back of my neck so she could pull me closer and effectively deepen the kiss. Her lips moved steadily against mine, not breaking away as I rolled her over so she was sitting in my lap.
"That was a nice wake-up call," she teased as we parted, my hands holding her hips tightly whilst her knees were perched on the bed on either side of me.
"Yer looked too good," I commented slyly.
"Shut up," she flushed, burying her face in the crook of my neck.
"I'm being serious," I grinned, turning to press a kiss against her hair. "Yer look gorgeous, Scarl."
"No, I don't," she mumbled after a prolonged pause, almost too quiet for me to hear but I managed to decipher her words which left my ears burning.
"What d'ya mean no, yer don't?" I frowned, carefully lifting her head from my neck but she quickly hid her face in her hands. "Rory."
"Forget I said owt," she murmured, her face growing red in embarrassment.
"Hey, look at me," I told her firmly as I tried to wrestle her hands from her face. "Rory."
"It's nowt, Sam, really," she assured me but there was a flicker of guilt in her eyes, emphasised by the crease of her brows and the tight line her lips were pulled into.
"What's gan on in that head of yours, pet?" I asked softly, raising a hand to cup her face and letting my thumb brush her cheekbone. "Talk to me."
She swallowed thickly. "It's just... my body's changing... a lot and..." she admitted, her voice wavering as she trailed off her sentence.
"Oh, darlin'," I sighed as the floodgates opened, tears falling down her cheeks. I quickly shuffled around so I was sitting upright and pulled her into my chest, rubbing her back soothingly.
I was kicking myself internally. How had I completely forgotten about her struggles with her body image? I felt awful.
"I'm sorry," she sobbed.
"What're yer sorry for, ya divvy?" I chuckled lightly as I kissed her head.
"I don't mean to think it," she fretted.
I smiled sadly, "I know, darlin', I know... you're the most gorgeous lass on this earth, alreet?"
"But I've got... stretch marks," she whispered.
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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...
