[𝟑] 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬

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After knocking on Sam's bedroom door, I open it before he can answer

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After knocking on Sam's bedroom door, I open it before he can answer. He's sitting on his bed, scrolling through his phone not acknowledging my presence so I knock on the door frame and close the door behind me.

"You and my mom are done talking?" I nod "What did she want?"

"She just wanted to ask me about my sister and dad." I lie, my eyes scanning the room. I sit on his bed.

"Did I say you could sit on my bed?" I instantly stand and he chuckles, patting my spot.

"I was kissing, sit." I raise a brow at him, holding back my laugh by biting my lip. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, just uhm-" I giggle. "You said you were kissing, and to sit."

"I- I meant kidding, sorry." I giggle again at his blush. He looks up at me and his eyes rest on my cheek.

"What?" I ask, wiping my cheek with the back of my hand. This time, it's his turn to laugh.

"You have dimples." He reaches for my cheek and rubs his thumb over the dent on the left side of my cheek that appears when I smile. I have them on both sides, neither of my parents had them, which I found odd, but I didn't inherit a lot of their genes anyway.

"Oh." I touch my other cheek as the warmth his hand brings to my cheek disappears. "Oh, sorry. I didn't come to talk about my dimples."

He laughs, leaning against his headboard. "Shame. That's what I came here for."

"But you live here." I giggle and his smile falters.

"Oh, yeah. Damn, I forgot for a second." He clears his throat before looking me in the eye, waiting for me to speak. But suddenly, I'm not so confident in what I'm gonna say. It feels like all the things I came up with to say in the car just,

Poof

Went and left my brain without warning. I scramble with my thoughts for a moment before shaking my head and starting simple.

"I'm sorry. I know you were just concerned for some reason and I should've just explained to you what was happening." He slowly nods and I shift uncomfortably, waiting for him to bombard me with questions again.

But he doesn't.

"I should've backed off, sorry. I just-" His eyes turn a mix of sad and angry, Sam never gets angry. "You were acting like my sister..."

"W- what do you mean?"

"My sister uh- passed away a while back." My heart sinks at those words. Yes, I know I already knew his sister died. But it was different coming from Sam, who never talked about his sister or brother after the incident in 8th grade.

"What do you mean I was acting like your sister?" I ask, placing my hand over his. Last time I touched him, I got bitch slapped but I was willing to risk it for the sake of his comfort.

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