simplistic gesture of affection. || continued from xx.
“what the fuck was that for?”
His question was completely valid ; why had she done it? The gesture had been a spur of the moment decision and something so against her general demeanor that even she was questioning herself. Heck, Samantha could even compare it to an out of body experience. There’s a short pause as the Prescott’s question rolls around her mind, searching for an answer in what had been an act of reflex... Why? As hazel optics shift to meet his gaze, it hits her. It laid behind that furrow brow and squinted glare he seemed to constantly sport.
Longing. Slipped self esteem. Self critique. It was something she had a date with each morning in the mirror and it was a look Samantha had recognized in the male immediately. Perhaps... If she could not be a reciprocate, the girl figured she could at least gift others with reminders of appreciation. In this case, Nathan.
❝ ... Who says it had to be for anything? ❞
Her soft smile returns, punctuating the question just as feeble hands gather books into her arms. Pressing the small pile of literature against her chest, the brunette takes her leave -- giving the male the privacy she was sure he preferred.
Everyone wanted, and deserved, a reminder that their existence summoned smiles.
