curiosity killed the cat

I fell in love with the idea that the mysterious thing you look for your whole life will eventually eat you alive.

[happymeishappylife]

[samanthaxreed]

I'll never know If there's danger in confession Or it's memory that presses Like a blade against my throat Another word and I could choke But what's worse? Tellin' you my feelings Or to die without revealing That you crawled inside my head And set a fire there instead?

@fireinhislungs​

[samanthaxreed]

jcktaylor​:

“When the fuck else are we going to do it? After the next time you disappear and show up again out of nowhere?” The sarcasm that lacquered her tone unapologetic, much alike everything Jack tended to lean towards. “If we held off on everything you weren’t ready for….” Laughter pressed her lips again, the inevitable shake of her head one that held a certain coldness to it, an accusation almost, that the whole cold feet repertoire that Samantha seemed to hold onto might as well be the cause of all of her own problems. “It meant… something? That’s it? That’s all you’re going to give me?” Given, she couldn’t exactly seem to find a way to describe what they’d been, but something felt hollow - haphazard and callous all at once. “I never asked you to give me anything, Sam.” Shot back with all the venom she’d held for the blonde since the day she’d awoken to the loft empty of all belonged to the other.  “I never cared what you could offer, just that you were there.” If anything, it was the only thing Jack really felt she needed in anyone. That another being could willingly tolerate her for all she was, and remain, she figured that was enough. “God. I know that I’m not believer in fairytales,” Or even love, for that matter, “But you sure as shit take the fucking cake, Sam. Saving us both the trouble?” The excuses were rampant and the more she listened, the angrier she felt - perhaps it was only fitting, that the night would end in bloodshed. “To spite me? Jesus Christ, do you really think I’m that self absorbed that I’d think you were here purely for me? You never thought of me before, why the fuck would I think you suddenly were now?” While she never truly felt the weight of guilt, she hardly believed the other did either. “I hope you choke on your shitty excuses, Sam. Maybe it’ll save the next person you decide to ghost.”

“Fine.” At one time, their mutual sarcasm had been what made the women such a formidable pairing and allowed for hours of banter, now Jack weaponized it against the blonde and she couldn’t argue the venom was undeserved. Sam couldn’t fathom what the other reached for now, whether it be an apology, an explanation, or merely the chance to ream her out after years of radio silence. “You’re right, okay? You’re absolutely right.” Voiced defeatedly in a break between verbal blows, she crossed both arms around her middle. Normally an open book in most respects, any matter of the heart or admission therein plucked at unresolved cowardice. “I wasn’t ready to be with someone and that’s my fault for dragging you into my mess without thinking it through. I avoided getting closer,” and still did, “because I can’t believe in happy endings. They’re bullshit and they never work out for anybody. But then I saw you––” A chaotic lifeline, a momentary reprieve in the cynicism she carried. “And I wanted you. Didn’t even think about it, I just dove in headfirst and by the time I came back up for air, I realized I almost drowned over the last person I jumped in for... and I panicked.” Honesty instead of excuses, though it didn’t feel any better in the end and she missed the safety of hiding behind them. Closure was a myth anyway. “Truth? You were the first taste of falling for somebody after him and I couldn’t handle it. I freaked out. It’s not an excuse for what I did, I know that’s all on me and I’m sorry I hurt you, Jack. I really am.” Though she doubted the brunette either wanted or would accept an apology now, neither did Sam blame her for that anger. Enough time had been spent outside and a man exiting the reception from her periphery was enough to draw Sam back into the present venue, though she never fully glanced at whomever it was before he returned to the party. All attention remained focused on her former lover as she deserved for once. “I have to go back inside. Who knows... Maybe you’ll get your wish tonight after all.”

[samanthaxreed]

fireinhislungs​:

…

“Good. You shouldn’t, because she’s not the one to blame. I am.“ The Williams male replied, somewhat sheepishly as he met her gaze briefly before returning to his previous position of scanning the crowd beyond. “It’s not about what I would tell her, it’s about what I didn’t tell her.“ Fletcher started, exhaling a sigh as he moved them slowly but surely across the dance floor. Carefully he slid his hand down to her lower back, before gently pulling her closer. Tilting his head some, his lips remained inches from her ear as he spoke. “You leaving fucking sucked, Sammy. After loosing the family, you were the last nail in my coffin. And while I though that it would be easy, that staying in touch when we were miles apart was the right thing, it fucking hurt and I couldn’t handle that on top of everything else.“ He mused, tone one of sincerity as he paused, gathering his thoughts momentarily. “So I stopped replying, figured cutting off contact was the only way to ignore the void you left in our lives. Grace of course asked questions, so I told her you stopped replying. Because if she knew the truth she would have talked me out of it.“ He added, a sigh escaping him as his shoulders rose some in a simply shrug. “I told her the truth a few weeks back.“ A decision he still wasn’t sure of, perhaps it was his his need to mend the bridges he had broken not only for himself, but for his sister too. 

Pulling back some he caught her gaze, aquamarine irises studying hers as if watching the clogs turning in her head. His lips curved upward before pulling into a fully fledged grin, filled with amusement and intrigue. “Did you really though, I mean you’re still here talking to me. Either I’m not that much of an asshole or you, Samantha Reed still have it bad.” He teased, a lowly chuckle escaping him before her next question was posed. “Of course, ask away.” He breathed, though his mind remained intrigued by the idea of the very woman he had spent his entire adolescence pathetically pinning after, could ever possibly have felt the same way. There was simply no way. Because Sam had always been the bright one of their trio, and he would always be the annoying twin brother that was but a friend by association. At least that was how it was before they lost Brooke. 

The amusement that danced over his features moments prior was quickly replaced by confusion and concern. It was one thing to dream about his deceased twin, but a complete other thing to see a physical apparition of her or perhaps someone that looked like her, when he was awake and alert. “They were just dreams, but seeing her now – that felt so fucking real.” Raising a hand he dragged his fingers through his hair, shock plaguing his somber expression. Maybe he was loosing his mind, maybe he was projecting her to squash the feelings he had surprised over the years that came with Sam’s return. Either way it was the feeling in his gut, that same feeling he used to get when she was close by that left her confused beyond measure. “Blue, a baby blue dress.”

+

You were the last nail in my coffin.

How true it rang for both of them, though Sam considered herself not dead, but rather unmoored without Fletcher as a defining anchor. Drifting through life, floating along the waves without a directional header or purpose beyond... what? Her career? The necessity to unravel knotted truths had become a compulsion more than anything else, a way to fixate elsewhere when the alternative was to miss all that she lost over the years. And him, always him. An old wound they rehashed now in close proximity without the vitriol and heightened tensions from the pier, which somehow made it feel intimate in a way that Sam had forgotten. This was their temporary confessional and she lacked enough courage to match it, simply nodding with understanding and a quiet, “It’s okay, Fletch. I meant it when I apologized on the pier and I meant it again when forgave you. We’re good.” The blonde cleared her throat after a moment, choking back some convoluted emotion. “She told me that, but...” Now came Sam’s turn to shrug, emphasizing that it hadn’t changed Grace’s feelings on the matter. Past scars could become easily irritated under the right circumstances and she didn’t blame the eldest Williams for rejecting their relationship. 

Could dry throats still swallow beneath the weight of nerves? Apparently so, despite how the movement lacked any relief or time to consider a quippy response. Even less helpful was the manner in which he scrutinized Sam’s features in an attempt to read whatever thoughts lay behind her expression, effectively blanking them out altogether. It required every ounce of willpower to not allow her eyes the opportunity to flicker downward and give the whole truth away. “You’re not that much of an asshole,” she finally managed. “And I owe you a dance, remember?” Phew. A close one. Though she didn’t have enough time or awareness to pat herself on the back, not with their gazes still aligned and a million dollar question on her lips. “Did you ever––?”

It never came out, effectively drowned by their current predicament and Fletcher’s seemingly bewildered expression as he attempted to make heads or tails of whatever plagued him. He mentioned something about it feeling so real, but the entire moment felt akin to another one of his infuriating jokes. The sort meant to push Sam away to the very best of his ability and drive her out of Oceanside altogether, only this one’s punchline was far crueler and she couldn’t parse that from where they had been only minutes prior. Baby blue. Of course it was the same color as Sam’s own dress. How convenient. “Wow,” she exhaled in disbelief while firmly removing herself from his grasp, already hating the way that hurt too. “You couldn’t even come up with something more creative than my dress? I know you’re probably just going off the top of your head, but really?” 

It became near impossible to shield the disappointment and pure anguish as they danced behind crystalline hues. “Of all the stupid shit you’ve said to purposely piss me off, that... that takes the cake.” Anger blossomed within the pain, not enough to cause a scene, but she felt it in the way her voice trembled. “I can’t believe I almost––” It didn’t matter. Fletcher was playing the long con by attempting to twist the knife precisely when it would hurt the most, in the way that only he could as the person who knew her better than anyone. “You really had me going. Fuck.”

[samanthaxreed]

chasealexander​:

.

Samantha and Chase had a complicated relationship, at least that’s how he imagined she described it to anyone who arched a curious brow in their direction. Chase would say that Samantha could be annoying as fuck, but the truth was that life wouldn’t be the same without a little Reed in it. “First of all, now I know why you walk around with a stick up your ass. It’s because you think people are supposed to have Cheerios in the morning. Next time you come into the station I’ll have a breakfast bagel or something for you.” The blonde really was everywhere, even at this wedding where he didn’t know anyone except his date and the blonde. Chase looked at the alcoholic drinks in her hand and hesitated for a moment before talking on. “I’m not going to cheers on it.” He said about the peace offering. “How’d you end up here? Are you friends with the newlyweds?”

+

“Wow, hurtful. Stick up my ass? It’s like you don’t even know me, I’m actually just a dick.” The cheeky grin which accompanied the statement both revealed her words as a joke and emphasized how completely true they remained despite that fact. “Accompanied a friend. She’s one of the bridesmaids.”

––Time Jump––

A day later and Sam continued to feel entirely unmoored by the wedding’s fallout and the carnage witnessed. Evidence that could implicate a number of people had been safely stored both on her computer and a flash drive back home, the journalist almost unwilling to hand over her greatest piece of leverage without knowing more. Compulsion meet challenge. “Can I talk to you?” She insisted while stopping the officer outside of the local precinct, no longer teasing and void of humor. “Literally just a minute and no bullshit, I promise.”

[samanthaxreed]

naomixjones​:

Naomi did the final walk around the venue to make sure everything and everyone was where it should be. As people eased into the reception she felt herself relax, able to enjoy the night with her friends. She spotted her date by the dessert bar and couldn’t help the grin as she watched her quickly reach for a cookie. “I saw nothing!” she laughed with a shake to her head and raised hands in defence. She paused to look around them before taking one for herself in the same fashion. “Well first,” she started with a satisfied bite, “I’m just trying to get on your level because—Wow!” she grinned Sam really pulling off the look. “Does it count if I signed it in crayons?” Naomi teased, “What kind of trouble are we getting into tonight?” she asked with a playful nudge.

The compliments were even sweeter when resounding from the lips of a friend and Sam chuckled before finishing the remainder of her own haul. “If I believed in marriage, I’d propose to you.” Perhaps they could still do this forever, show up to every event as a knock out pairing. Truthfully there existed few others whom Sam could fathom such lifelong commitment to, but Naomi felt like a decent start. “Crayons are a binding form of penmanship––” Her words died upon painted lips, gaze immediately drawn to the frenzy occurring in the open field nearby as a behemoth of a helicopter descended upon the festivities. “Maybe more than we intended...” People were crowding, panicking, a multitude of them bewildered at the interruption. Fingers immediately reached for Naomi’s hand, a well honed instinct to avoid being separated from yet another best friend amidst the chaos. “Something’s happening.”

The Volkov’s are here, someone called to another passerby before Sam witnessed the first flash of a gun being held at someone’s side. Then another and another until she witnessed one wave far too close to herself and the brunette. What the actual fuck. Groups of individuals were corralled by wolves in sheeps’ clothing, perfectly blended into the crowd until now. The hostage situation of the decade and she was directly in the center of it, somehow embodying every journalist’s waking dream and worst nightmare. One palm wrapped around Naomi’s own, she used its twin to slide carefully into the fabric of her dress to the cell phone stuffed therein. One swipe left and Sam knew the camera would activate from the darkness of her pocket, before another swipe to the right companied by a gentle vibrate indicated shifting to video. While she couldn’t actually remove it without being seen, simply recording the audio should suffice... or so the young woman hoped.

[lucyboyntonstan]

[samanthaxreed]

fireinhislungs​:

…

“Not exactly, given only two people have even been brave enough to try and that was you and Grace.“ His own beaming grin was shot back at her in return. It seemed while many had tried, no one had really been able to keep the male in check like that of his childhood best friend and sisters. Perhaps it had been something to do with the bond they shared growing up, or maybe the answer lied instead within. However, he was quickly pulled from his own thoughts as the blonde’s expression faltered for but a few seconds. It was miniscule and if he had blinked perhaps he would have missed it; alas Fletcher was as perceptive as they came and even more so around those he held something akin to a torch for. An eternal flame. “I wouldn’t be so harsh on Grace, she doesn’t exactly know the full story about you and I.” He explained, as his own expression sobered. “Not to mention you’re a walking reminder of everything we lost. She’ll come around in time. Trust me on that.” He mused, reaching out to settle a large hand around her forearm as he gave a gentle yet reassuring squeeze. 

The idea of ever being assimilated with that of Clyde Barrow brought an immediate chuckle to his lips. While he could see small similarities, Fletcher Williams made Clyde look like Barney the dinosaur. Not that he wanted the blonde before him to know that, or ever find out for that matter. That darkness that was all consuming, it was his weight to bare and his alone. And the hardest part of all was ensuring that only his victims were made partial to it, because anyone else he was sure to loose if they even witnessed the slightest piece of that side of him. “You have no idea.” He settled for with a shake of his head, though his grin remained only this time growing in presence as his lashes lifted from his cheeks to meet her gaze. “Come on now Sam, we both know the highlight of your night is talking to me. Don’t think Jesse didn’t inform me of that mad crush you had on me before we came friends.” He taunted, words derived from his second native language which was otherwise known as bullshit. “Then we actually became friends and you realized how much of an asshole I was. And that Brooke was the real gem.” He added, pulling her ever so slightly closer as he moved them carefully across the dance floor. 

Shock, confusion and anger – they all flashed across his features in lightening quick succession as he watched the same brunette from earlier disappear into the crowd once more. Either his mind was playing some horrific tricks on him, or the woman that had evaded him had an uncanny likeness to his deceased twin. And with the recent dreams he seemed unable to escape Fletcher couldn’t help but believe the former. “It’s her. Brooke.” He explained, no longer able to meet the blonde’s gaze. “I keep thinking I’m seeing her — but it’s in my fucking head.”

+

Something about it felt like a badge of honor, an elite group of people who knew Fletcher well enough to call him out in the moment with the assurance that he might actually listen. Either that or take the playful reproach in stride, which often made for more entertainment than one intended. Even now Sam couldn’t recall boredom ever being a factor when it came to engaging her childhood best friend, he remained one of the very few capable of verbally sparring at a moment’s notice. “I don’t think I have it in me to be harsh on Grace,” she amended. “But out of curiosity, what would you tell her is the full story about us?” Maybe it was selfish to be curious as to how he perceived their reunion without divulging her own outlook, but the question slipped out anyway. “It’s fine, really. I get why she feels that way and I don’t blame her at all–– pretty sure I’d be a hypocrite if I did.” 

Okay, so... mental note to throttle Jesse before she left. What was the correct response here? Should she play along? Tell him it sounded like bullshit? A plethora of options buzzed around Sam’s mind like a furious beehive until he clarified the statement as another stupid joke. One that danced so precariously close to the truth it nearly gave her whiplash in the process. “Sounds like I did a real one-eighty. Though you’re still an asshole and I’m still here, so what does that say about me really?” Nerves still on fire, Sam gave into impulse before cynicism managed to completely temper it. “Can I ask you something?”

Her hand dropped away in shock. “What?” A bewildered expression immediately furrowed Sam’s brow, unwilling to comprehend the implication behind what had just been uttered. Brooke Williams was beyond deceased, a fact neither of them disputed after having attended her funeral and coping with their immense grief in the multitude of years which followed. People didn’t simply rise from a cold grave because someone willed it, otherwise they would have mutually drawn her from the earth long ago. “They’re just dreams. It’s not real, you know that.” Either a lack of sleep had been affecting Fletcher to the point of actual hallucination... Or he intentionally crossed that line to–– what? Keep her at a distance as he repeatedly attempted with morbid and concerning jokes? He didn’t appear cognitively impaired right now, which left only one option worth testing really. “What was she wearing just now?”

[samanthaxreed]

fireinhislungs​:

…

“Jesus Christ, if you knew how much you sounded like my sister right now.” The male drawled with a roll of his eyes, though the amusement filled grin that pulled at his lips was testament to the lack of actual annoyance in his tone. If anything it was somewhat refreshing, because for the longest time it had been Brooke and Sam against him. And for a moment it was like being cast back into the past, as if by some strange miracle, it was still two on one. The headstone he had avoided for sometime in the local cemetery however, was enough to confirm otherwise. ”Heaven forbid if you two ever end up hanging out..“ He mused, again there remained minimal weight in his words because at the end of the day, Samantha had been an extension of the family, not just for the twins but for Grace too. “Okay calm down Bonnie, you’re a long way off ever getting your hands on a firearm let alone graduating anything with the way you throw those fists of yours. Baby steps.” He reassured, stealing a glance in her direction before casting his gaze out over the crowd once more. 

Looking from his sister gathered with a few others, to various other Scorpion’s scattered throughout the venue, it had not escaped his attention that they were no longer alone. That now, the snakes had at some point slithered into the venue making their presence known and that alone had him avoiding the bar. If anything he needed to keep his wits about him. Especially now. “Is it so hard to believe that I might actually want to talk to you?” The male countered, as his attention spun back to the blonde, void this time of amusement but still with a certain softness that was reserved for a rare few. “Or maybe I’m after that dance you deprived me of at senior prom.” He added, though this time a genuine smile tugged at his lips and he wasted no time in take the blonde’s hand to lead her onto the dance floor. Only when they were there did his hand remain clasped around hers as the other settled upon her waist, tugging her closer. And as they began to slowly move to the slow beat, that was when he saw her again, talking to another this time. A flair of baby blue, brunette curls and those doe eyes that reminded him so much of his deceased other half. The familiarity was uncanny, so much so his jaw locked in place and his body suddenly stiffened. “It can’t be her, but she looks so fucking real.” He murmured under his breath and all to quickly the woman dispersed back into the chaos of the crowd. 

+

“That’s a recurring theme in your life, isn’t it?” A wide, shameless smile flashed in response. “I think keeping your ego in check is practically a public service now. We deserve medals.” Yet at the mention of spending any version of quality time with Grace, her beaming expression faltered ever so slightly. Not enough to dim, but he would know... He always knew. “Great idea, but I don’t think Grace wants anything to do with me.” Something about the reminder attached to Sam being too difficult and as much as it internally ached to hear that brutal honesty, neither could the blonde fault the other woman for voicing it. Not when she existed as an echo of that former life even to herself. “Does that make you Clyde? Yikes.” Another taunt at his expense, though Sam held no venom behind the rim of her glass as she downed the remaining contents to settle it upon the bar top. “Sounds like a challenge and you should be well aware that I take those as invitations.”

His attention diverted to the various attendees and while she felt a natural inclination to probe, to ask where a mind she once knew like the back of her own hand had run off to... Sam allowed him to broach those worries at his own pace. No pressure, just support once the weight became too much for him to bear. How predictably old habits could rear their heads. “Only if it’s not hard to believe that I might actually want to talk to you, too.” He’d mentioned baby steps, hadn’t he? That worked for her across the board. “Guess there’s no getting away with an IOU.” Even as she feigned reluctance, some quiet part of Sam did hesitate at the proximity despite not outwardly expressing her instinct to flee. Yet another benefit she only ever bestowed upon him, palm clasped within his as the journalist attempted to ignore the blinding reminder that they were doing this for the first time in well over a decade.

Or not.

“Fletch––?” She queried when his figure turned rigid a mere thirty seconds into the dance, gaze locked on something beyond her frame and out of sight once she managed to pivot features enough to check. Nothing of consequence, just more figures either chatting or dancing to the languid tempo of some cliché wedding ballad. “Hey, talk to me.” Fingers that once rested along a broad shoulder now instinctively reached for the side of his face in an attempt to level their bright gazes once more. “What’s going on?”

[samanthaxreed]

jcktaylor​:

With more pieces missing than she was willing to admit, clearly. A notion that Jack had regularly given her a pass on many times before. Perhaps it was the alcohol running rampant in her system - blending in she did well, and with the expectations of a Russian family, she’d long since learnt to hold her alcohol, but that certainly didn’t stop it from boiling away within her. Heating everything usually guarded by ice until the pieces of humanity that she held tightly within her palm slipped out. “Oh, well surely that’s a first. No wonder you’re struggling.” It’s offhanded and there’s an edge of disbelief in her voice that doesn’t quite allow her to leave just yet. Just a whole lot of the opposite. Of all the times the blonde before her could have found a shred of decency within her, she chose here - at a wedding, right in front of her - technically. “My what?” Pointedly, her gaze shifts, the expectation evident on hardened features. “You can’t say it, can you? You can’t just admit what we were,” When she laughs, the sound if cold, hollowed out and sharpened to a point. “I don’t remember you being so cold, guess we’ve both changed, but I’m not annoying, I’m hurt, Sam - You hurt me and you wanna’ come back here and act like it didn’t mean shit.,” And she hadn’t been certain that anyone had the ability to still do that. What felt worse, however, was knowing that the blonde would likely never feel this way, purely for her apt ability to always leave first. 

Except that it wasn’t a first and voicing as much became impossible without driving the wedge between them even further past breaking point, whatever that might have been. Sam held no intention of finding out regardless and locked her jaw to keep from speaking out of turn instead. “You want to do this now? Really?” Dredging up sins of her past and the agony caused in the blonde’s wake as if she were capable of anything else now. Much of her life had been stolen at too young an age and rather than cope, she chose to self destruct in a ripple affect that finally hit an unwitting target; Jack merely wound up as collateral damage. “If I wanted to be cold, I would’ve left the second you came over here. You said I’m good at that, remember? Walking away from people.” 

Though Jack had been correct in at least one other assertion: both women changed considerably in their time apart and if anything Sam grew worse in her compulsion for flight. After two shots at letting somebody in where both ended catastrophically, she retired any notion of exploring new relationships again. “Of course it meant shit! All of it meant something, I just...” Never knew how to be that person for her and still didn’t. “What could I have offered you, Jack?” Not enough, not when a great portion of Sam’s heart was still buried in the local cemetery and the rest sat unknowingly within the pocket of a man stewing in anger back at the reception. “It was always going to end up one of two ways: either you leaving once you figured that out or me saving us both the trouble.” Not that it was her place to cynically predict the future, but she had and the past couldn’t be unwritten. “I’m sorry for making that decision by myself and I’m sorry that it seems like I’m in Oceanside just to spite you. Coming back here was for my own reasons.”

[samanthaxreed]

skylarowcns​:

…

Skylar turned her head when she heard a voice, a small smile came along her features as the relief washed over her features. If she was honest, it was the best thing that could have happened during the evening was someone coming to her rescue to get her away from this guy and that person not being Ryan was even better. Her hand lifting up to touch her necklace that was no longer around her neck. Her fingertips brushed against her skin before she dropped her hand to her side as she chuckled. “I work at the Emerald Club… Or I worked. It’s something I’m used to.” She glanced over at her. “I’m Skylar, by the way… I appreciate being rescued.” 

The man either knew better than to press or felt sufficiently embarrassed enough to wander off, either way Sam was grateful that bigger insults weren’t required from her end. No need for anything but happy tears today. “Regardless, nobody deserves that. It’s gross and we can’t have you vomiting over the smell of his aftershave. It’ll ruin your nice dress.” Volleying back a quick half-smile, the journalist nodded in acknowledgement of the other woman’s name before providing her own. “Sam,” she offered in return. “It’s no big, I figure I’m paying it forward. You can go save somebody at a random wedding bar next... So what’s your poison, Skylar?” 

[samanthaxreed]

jcktaylor​:

It wasn’t something she could so easily skirt around. The warring lump of concern that seemed to pick itself up out of absolutely nowhere and lodge itself in the pit of her stomach was not one that existed with all that much familiarity anymore. The edge of reason hammering away at it relentlessly until Jack could distinguish the heat of the simmering alcohol in her system, from the vying desperation to ask what everything else pertained to - if only out of a sickening obligation that still existed, to fix it. “I’d never expect anything less than complicated from you, Samantha-Complicated-Reed.” Instead, it rose within the folds of a rough scoff as she sought to relegate the blonde beside her. “What’d you do to piss them off? Wait..— wait, let me take a guess.” Darkened lips pursed together as she waived her hand to still anything Sam might say, “It’s because you’re a flake, isn’t it?” An impending brow rose at the taunt, despite her desire to know the truth of what bothered her - pushed aside, only by the venom she carried on her tongue instead. “I mean, it’s not exactly my kind of gig, but if I was bored, I’m not now.”

As with everything in her life that left a substantial impact, claw marks embedded themselves into the memory of their relationship as it once lived. They hadn’t always gone for one another’s throat at every opportunity, hell just the opposite. Even now as the pair of women bickered as a result of Sam’s direct actions, she couldn’t bring herself to truly match or absorb that venom lest the image of their former life in New York become tainted. “Yeah I’m just a fucking thirty thousand piece puzzle.” A convoluted mess of paradoxes wrapped in the shell of the woman she had been so very long ago. It sounded almost poetic were the consequences of that unresolved trauma not carving open the remnants of her life. “Oh fuck off,” she groaned in exasperation despite how her lips quirked for the tiniest fraction of a second. “No, I didn’t flake. Just a whole lot of the opposite.” Unfortunately it would always exist as the courtesy Sam managed to extend to the first person she ever loved, but not the second. And here they stood. “Glad one of us is getting some enjoyment out of this shitfest. Don’t you have a date? Are you going to tell him he’s so lame that you had to come irritate your––” Ex both fit and missed the mark, just like them. “I don’t remember you being this annoying.”

[thcfinalgirl]

Chris Wood & Lucy Boynton Manip

[fireinhislungs111]

@samanthaxreed​

[samanthaxreed]

fireinhislungs​:

…

The petite blonde had caught his attention long before he decided to make his approach during the reception. In fact that baby blue dress visibly made her stand out within the crowd, like a beacon of light amidst a raging storm, Samantha Reed had guided him through the darkness. A challenge it seemed she was still very much capable of achieving as he made his way across the room, one hand dug into the pocket of his pants while the other gripped a near empty glass. “Careful there Ms Reed, when you put it like that I might start to think you get off on seeing me in a suit. Probably because you’ve not had the pleasure of undressing me, but to each and their own.” He taunted, sarcasm heavy in his tone as he offered the blonde his trademark grin. “Yeah I think you and I both know that’s never going to happen. The day I actually enjoy these shit shows is the day I expect you to put a bullet in my head.” He forewarned, a chuckle escaping him as he spoke. Suits were far too restricting for his liking, the prohibited movement and we’re exactly his first choice when it came to being able to fight nor draw a weapon should the need arise. “Neither actually, should I be concerned you seem to think I actually have a fucking agenda coming to these things? If anything it’s more like try not to break someone’s nose this time around.”

+

Gods above and below, he belonged on a fucking magazine cover. Wearing a tailored suit with one hand casually tucked into his pocket, brimming with the knowledge of how captivating his appearance was and bold enough to laud it over everyone’s head. “So how did you manage to walk in here with that ego on your shoulders? Did it require its own RSVP, or...?” Admitting truth would be the equivalent of laying every card on the table and Sam refused to risk such admission. Particularly not when she volleyed between digesting every innuendo as a joke or wondering if truth lingered beneath the surface. A knife’s edge line to walk where her own emotions were concerned, though it began to feel as if every dangerous road led her right back to this; treasure troves of questions all squashed for another moment in the sun with him.

“Teach me how to shoot a gun and I just might. That can be our next lesson after I graduate from the Fletcher Williams self-defense academy.” A possibility that was barely even a speck on the horizon at this point, save for the brief moment in which his jaw nearly met the sharp jab of her fist. Idly she wondered if the brunette would feel pride in her for succeeding in that arena, or did it constitute admitting to his failure at keeping her out of Oceanside? A departure Sam could no longer stomach at the sight of that ridiculous, boyish grin. “No,” she conceded before a wry smile overtook her expression. “I think you should be concerned that no agenda means admitting you walked all the way over here just to talk to me.” Busting someone’s nose wide open sounded like the most certifiable way to get removed from the property and while his temper appeared momentarily subdued, there would be no risk taking on that front. At least not the sort worth admitting aloud. “Sounds like you need a distraction.”

[samanthaxreed]

Starring: @chasealexander​

Locale: Dessert bar

“You know,” she began in a slow approach around the decadent sweets, lips curved into a mirthful smile. “If you keep looking like somebody pissed in your Cheerios every time I come around, I’ll probably start to get offended.” Probably. For all intents and purposes, badgering Chase came with the territory of her job at this point, though Sam wouldn’t deny getting a slight kick out of his obvious reluctance. Not one to burn bridges or sour a useful connection, she scooped up two glasses of champagne from a passing tray and extended one to the officer. “Peace offering? C’mon, we’re both off the clock today.”

[samanthaxreed]

rileyrparker​:

Unfortunately, the other blonde was a second too late because Riley had already drained the oddly hued liquid into her mouth. However, she kept it there as the woman spoke. If it hadn’t been for the savior next to her, Riley would have swallowed the putrid green thing down thinking it was an acquired taste. But instead, she brought the glass up to her lips and opened her mouth as she felt it’s cooling touch. The liquid came pouring out at first, then dribbled, until it emptied away. She reached for napkin on the bar top and desperately dabbed her tongue. “Are you sure they’re a friend and not trying to murder you?” She coughed, drumming her chest. “That was god awful. Thanks for the heads up.”

+

The sight of her unintended company practically allowing such a vile drink to release back into its original glass would have prompted a guffaw were it not a stark reminder of college. “Honestly? Up in the air. His choices are like, fifty shades of questionable, but I’m watching my back just in case.” Though she smirked at the idea of Peter somehow poisoning her carne asada tacos. “Feels like a public service at this point. We should probably wash it out with something stronger... You like tequila sours?” A pair of fingers rose to flag down the bartender. “I’m Sam by the way. On the off-chance that you need somebody to blame for your hangover.”

[samanthaxreed]

jcktaylor​:

The warmth that touched the tips of her fingers, no doubt the lingering effects of the few glasses of champagne she’d had. Biding her time until every piece of the puzzle fell into place was something that she was rather apt in doing. Patience was something that existed within her bones and her usually cold exterior had withstood timeframes far longer than a single night - what she wasn’t all that great at dealing with, was small talk. A room filled to the brim with people clinging to the shallow depth of a passing conversation just to get them through to the next. They served little purpose beyond making her appearance known, but even still, she had her limits. The figure ahead not nearly noticeable enough to draw her attention until familiarity in such a sharpened tone hit her for six. “I’m far more impartial to the former,” A venomous retort that sat far too naturally for Jack, despite whatever turmoil existed in the place that Sam once did. “What’s wrong?” A coy attempt to goad the blonde, it seemed that where Jack would perhaps almost avoid confrontation that tied itself at her own ankles, that didn’t stand tonight. “You’re not the one getting hitched, Sammie, you can save the commitment anxiety for another night.”

+

Stony remarks once existed as her most favorite piece of the brunette, so accustomed to how their personalities clashed like fire and ice, a true battle of wits that kept both parties unintentionally orbiting the other. Therein existed a plethora of unresolved emotions, some variation of closure that she’d stolen in the night and neither outright discussed. “Not tonight. Just–– I can do without this on top of everything else.” Couldn’t they lay down the verbal sparring for a single moment? “Fighting with an old friend. It’s... complicated.” If the two women had been convoluted as a pairing, the history shared with Fletcher only served to emphasize that word tenfold. Somehow both more and less than friends in tandem, though she couldn’t rightly assume any bond after such a calamitous argument. “Oh, good to know. I’ll be sure to cross that off my list of thirty-seven other anxieties. What a relief.” Bright hues cut across the space between them. “You bored or something?”

[samanthaxreed]

Starring: @jcktaylor​

Locale: A vacant side path just outside of the reception

The atmosphere felt suffocating even amidst trees and a skyline so vast and open that it made anyone who gazed into its speckled abyss feel impossibly small. That descriptor was apt tonight; feeling near miniature as Sam internally collapsed in on herself. She couldn’t breathe as lungs filled to the brim with anguish rather than blood, yet punctured all the same by the only person who knew precisely where to aim his knife. A singular course of action came to her through well-honed instinct, merely a blur of blonde and blue as she disappeared from the festivities and just... fled. Away from the reception. Away from Fletcher. Away from all of it.

Heels clicked along the well lit pathway as she wandered just far enough away to gather reasonable thoughts before returning, mainly because leaving Naomi here alone was out of the question. One breath. A second. Get it the fuck together. The sound of approaching footsteps was inconvenient, albeit not surprising considering the turnout and she sighed in irritation. While half-expecting them to pass by in search of a ride home, the telltale pause told another story. “Look, unless you’re planning to either kill me or get me drunk, I’m not interested.” Features turned half-heartedly to her company and, as if the night couldn’t devolve further, Sam felt her stomach somersault before dropping. Perhaps the only correct response when another ache of her past appeared as a vision from the darkness, some horrifically beautiful daydream long after the sun had set. “That goes double where you’re concerned.”