@theirwar radioed: “are your tears supposed to make me feel something? because they don’t.”
he doesn't realize just how much his tears burn behind his eyes until they are streaming uncharted paths along his dirt and blood smeared cheeks. the cruel undertones of her timbre is unlike anything that sam has ever heard echo from the cavern of her ribs. they fall from her lips like second nature, as if she is capable of this edge to her fiery nature, but sam has never found himself to be burned by her. never by peyton.
sam looks up to peyton from the ground, the cool cement against his heated, bruised skin offering some balm. his breathing burns in his lungs, like each jagged breath is a damning reminder of the torment he has already suffered in the hands of alie, pushed in the physical sense by peyton and jackson, chipped and no longer in control. "please," sam begs, the plea falling from his lips with a quiver. another wave of tears push past his lower lash line.
he knows peyton more than he knows himself at times, and sam knows that this isn't her. the deep frown that rests upon her blank face looks as though it is caught by a fisherman's hook, turning downward as though in pity. as if she had just kicked a dog, and watched it cower away. sam presses a hand behind him, leaning against it as he tries to keep himself upright.
"i love you," he admits, as freely as he has time and time before. sam never shied from the importance peyton has in his life. on the ark, he admits that he loved peyton and their friendship remained unscathed. in the wreckage of the alpha station, days before, sam admits it again, with the nature of his true turn of feelings. though burned, sam still is not afraid to admit the truth again, so long as it would anchor peyton back to reality and control. good or bad.
"you're my best friend, p," sam continues, his face twisting briefly in pain. "you've always been there for me. i do not believe you." because her words are not spoken from her own breath but rather alie's. even with peyton's dark eyes glaring back down at sam, he recognizes that it is not peyton who holds distain for him in that moment. peyton never looked at him like that before; not even when she pushed him out of their room they shared after mount weather. not even when she found out sam shared a bed with someone and did not tell her. not even then.
"if you have to kill me, i want you to know i don't blame you." each words come out with intention, landing hard to ensure that peyton, buried somewhere deep in her mind, listens and hears. "i know this isn't you." he pauses, pressing his lips together, bloodied by his tongue. "i love you."