you close your laptop, and run to your bathroom, on the verge of breakdown. you havent talked to skit in months. months. you dont know.. you dont know, if he still loves you , if he still wants to be with you, but oh, you miss him, and he’s...he’s coming over, and you’re a wreck.
the cold water splashes over your face, not quite sobering your anxiety, but surely doing a good enough job, and covering tear tracks as you go. you look at yourself in the mirror- something youve been doing a lot- and you still dont recognize yourself. you havent, for months. who are you? who are you? you shake it off, water flinging off of your face. youre sam. youre sam, and people love you. you love you. right?
you’re wiping your face with a towel when you hear the buzz of the transportalizer. your heart is in your throat, and you almost start to sob again, but instead you walk slowly to where he would appear, timing it to walk in mere seconds after his arrival, as not to shock him. he’s there.
your knees buckle, and before you can register it, you’re falling to the ground, the tears reappearing on your face as fast as they were wiped away, but before your knees collide with the floor, his arms are around your waist, and his hands are familiar, but not at the same time, and the sobs wrack your body as you’re pulled to your feet and into a warm, tight embrace.
he’s quiet. you know you have to say something, but you just. cant think. its like youre drunk, your mind just isnt working. all you can do is cry into his shoulder.
“i love you so much” is all you can get out, between weeping breaths.
