Sam doesnāt mind the weather. Itās more snow than they usually get, likely related to the other odd weather events happening across the other regions, but it makes Pallet Town feel cozy.
Even if the front yard looks odd untouched, no footprints or snow angels or half destroyed snowmen, all things Sam had gotten used to after raising three kids in this house.
Sometimes he likes having it all to himself, peace and quiet after a long, complicated life. That was years ago; now the emptiness is suffocating, dragging him down. Having Lucas in the house help takes some of the pressure off, but Lucas is out for the evening (Sam is fuzzy on the details, something involving Green and alcohol) so Sam is left alone with his thoughts for at least a few hours.
He curls up in the living room with a book to try and distract himself, though the temptation is there to open the liquor cabinet and drink until heās stopped thinking. Itās something heās read before, some of it familiar, some things forgotten with time, so Sam is only half paying attention when the doorbell rings; either another welcome distraction, or a momentary nuisance.
He considers ignoring it, but solicitors tend not to be doing their rounds this late. It could be one of his assistants in need of something, or one of Greenās friendsā mothers come to chat. That doesnāt sound appealing either, even the thoughtĀ of socialization exhausting, which doesnāt make a whole lot of sense when being aloneĀ is likely the whole reason for being down, butā¦ thatās fine, heās gotten used to it, heās learning to live with it. Poorly.
It takes an effort of willpower for Sam to get out of the armchair, drag himself to the door. The only reason he answers is on the off chance Lucas decided Greenās particular style of having funĀ wasnāt for him and came home early, but it isnāt Lucas and it isnāt a solicitor and it isnāt Red or Leafās mother.
āOh.ā He lets out a little breathy noise, not quite surprise, not quite discontentment, and shifts from one foot to the other, tendrils of nervousness coiling up in the pit of his stomach.
Itās hard to look at him. Heās met with Giovanni a handful of times by now, a few encounters heās emphatically informed the younger man are notĀ dates, but the awkwardness hasnāt subsided, and Sam hadā¦ put on his best face for those occasions. He doesnāt know how to deal with Giovanni here, tired and drained and depressed.
Sam averts his gaze. Itās hard to look at him right now, not without that anxious feeling in his stomach; that longing for someone he once knew so well, now gone from his life. He misses that quiet teenager. Misses that little apartment in Viridian.
āGiovanni. This isā¦ unexpected, Iā¦ um. Would you like to come in?ā
Heās been persistent. Home visits, once or twice, courtesy calls and deliveries of flowers. The world may speak ill of Giovanni, but nobody can say he doesnāt know how to play the role of a romantic. Maybe itās the Kalosian in him.
Sam refuses his advances every time, may accept his gifts and tag along to dinner but insists it has nothing to do with courtship. Heās a sentimental old man. He sees no reason not to catch up after... Thirty years. Giovanni smiles, nods, assures him with simple āof courseā, but he isnāt so easily fooled. Nor has he ever been the type to give in without a fight.
That pursuit of challenge brings him back to the Professorās doorstep. The house is quiet, he notices, and the only aged footprints in the snow are retreating toward the outside world. But thereās lights on, and so surely his quarry is home. The brunette knocks. Isnāt kept waiting long.
Sam looks... Worse for wear. They havenāt spent any significant period of time alone together, yet, but it isnāt the first time Giovanni has noticed Sam fraying at the seams. It leaves the younger male with a sense of discontent that surprises him every time he notices the little things -- the way Sam wrings his hands, averts his gaze at every opportunity, says little when he might once have said much. He knew the Professor well enough, once, to know that these things are strange. That perhaps he can provide Sam a different kind of service with his company than he might have previously intended.
āI apologize if itās not a good time,ā he offers, removing his hat and holding it to his chest, āI thought to check in, make sure youāre settled in. They say the weatherās only getting worse.ā But he smiles, softly. Heās allowed to visit, then, at least for a short period of time. Next time Sam looks up, Giovanni makes sure to meet his gaze. āOf course, Professor.ā
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