Some Sam/Evan Slowburn Roommates to Lovers thoughts...
It’s the most comfortable couch in the world. It’s dinners together every night, him learning how to cook with a real stove and an oven just to contribute and finding out he kind of loves it. It's eating together on Evan's Couch tucked up under a blanket
It's hugs every day. It’s slowly gravitating from opposite ends of the couch to the middle, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, until they're just cuddling.
It’s the tabloids noticing them and being confused by their inability to identify him. He’s just her boy, and that’s all she’ll say about him. They can only ever get photos of the two of them from a distance, any pictures from speaking distance are all strangely obscured, as if there’s a shadow cast over the lens.
It’s all-day affection, a squeezed hand, an arm around a shoulder, a kiss on the head, or a kiss on the shoulder.
It’s feeling safe, as if he has a place. They don’t talk about it. He doesn’t bring up the D word again, and she doesn’t either, but he can’t help but feel a little like it applies here either way.
It’s the couch getting damaged by something and Evan intending to get his trusty air mattress out to use until Sam replaces it and her saying it’s ridiculous to do that when she has a bed plenty big enough for the both of them.
It’s things not being weird when they fall asleep in each other’s arms the way they sometimes would on the sofa, just intentional this time. It’s pulling each other close in the middle of the night, the smell of each other’s sweat and hair, feeling so intrinsically entwined that there’s no saying where each of them ends and where the other begins.
It’s waking up sprawled across each other, spending rare, lazy mornings just lying like that until one of them has to get up to pee and the other goes to make breakfast.
It’s Sam finally getting a new sofa but not letting Evan go back to it, saying it just makes more sense for him to keep sleeping in the bed, because things have worked great for them so far.
It’s neither of them thinking about what would happen if either of them were to ever bring someone home. The thought doesn’t cross either of their minds.
It’s looking forward to every text, every phone call, every voice note, every photograph. It’s pictures of them together on each of their lockscreens, his phone full of pictures of them together, taken at awkward angles, and photos of her doing literally anything. Her eating ice cream and waving at him, her scrunching her nose up, her mid-word as she gesticulates excitedly about something.
It’s hearing each other’s voices and smiling, knowing exactly where each other is, always aware of the strings caught between them.
It’s Evan being thoughtful and bringing her home a pot of flowers instead of a bouquet, it’s him writing down notes on all her favourite foods so he can always make sure there’s something she likes in.
It’s her finding it in herself to believe that he actually cares about her for who she is beneath the charm and having that carry her through even the most difficult times, because she knows that he’s too honest to ever lie to her about that.
It’s her knowing she loves him but not knowing where the lines are because there aren’t lines. It’s just them, endlessly entwined.
It’s Evan happy to live his life like this, for once not knowing the future and not feeling scared by it, because he gets to sleep in her bed, he gets to eat his meals with her, he has someone to come home to. He’s been in love with her for longer than he can remember, and he can remember it pretty far back. It feels as if their relationship transcends words or labels. They’re just Sam and Evan.
It’s K being like, “you guys are SO married, it’s insane,” and them being like, “but we’re not?” because they just don’t realise that they are.
It’s Sam going, “we aren’t married… are we married?” and him being like, “I’d take your name if you wanted me to.” And her blushing, thinking about who Evan Butler could be. “I mean, I would marry you,” she says matter-of-factly. And him saying, “I’d marry you in a heartbeat.” It’s them not talking about that again for years.
It’s his side of the bed and hers and the space in the middle where they both meet.
It’s whispered I love yous and I love you toos.
It’s “okay, fine. You were right. We are basically married,” as K giggles and squeals, and Jammer says, “Well, yeah. You’ve been together for like, years now.”
