One Argument And It's Over | Complete

Chapter 8 (Rewrite)

"Sam, we have to talk."

"That's never good," Sam said, but with a playful tone in her voice, which certainly did not match the stern look on Freddie's face. She looked at him. "Let me finish this and I'll be right with you." She finished laying the pasta on her homemade vegetable lasagna and washed her hands. "Make sure to wash your hands after preparing food," she said jokily, following him into his room. He closed the door behind them.

"We have to talk about us."

"Just what I wanted to hear at five fifteen in the evening," she said, still not letting go of that playful spark. She then cleared her throat and looked at his expression, realising how serious he was. If this was an important conversation to be had, then she wanted it to happen. "Yes, I think we have to talk."

They sat down beside each other at the end of his bed, being careful in making sure their knees and arms didn't brush each other's or touch.

"You go first," Sam told him.

Freddie nodded, wasting no time in telling her how he felt.

"You are my reason for waking up every morning, Sam. You are my world, he told her. If I could take back what happened, I would – a million times over. I love you and I can't go to the other side of the country without telling you how I feel and fixing this. I've recited what I was going to say to you so many times in my head, but after the fourteenth time, they didn't sound like words anymore, so I'm improvising." Sam laughed quietly at his words. "I just want you to know that I will never give up fighting for you. I miss our late-night drives, the Pinis dates, the sneaking around and making out in closets. Please give me another chance. I can't live without you. Wow, looking at me sounding desperate, aha. I just want to make it up to you because you're a princess. You deserve the entire world, and I want to be the man to give it to you." Tears built up in her eyes as she fiddled with her thumbs on her lap, unable to speak. "So, please, give me another chance."

She didn't look up at him. She could just nod her head, paralyzed in place. Nobody had ever been that nice to her – well, nobody had been that nice to her and meant it before. She clung onto every syllable in his speech and finally looked at up, meeting his chocolate covered eyes. Then she smiled, allowing the clouds to clear away and the rain stopped. He stepped closer to her. "Yes, Freddie," she spoke softly. "I'll give you another chance, but you better believe that the butter sock will come out if you ever, ever, do that again." Freddie chuckled, opening his arms for her. She simply fell into them, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

"I missed you."

"Mhm."

"Hey, what were you going to say?"

"Something that hopefully would've ended in the same way. You definitely said it better though."

Freddie smiled at her.

Even that night, they still stayed separate. Sam was in the Shays' apartment, while Freddie slept across the hallway in his own bed for the last time till Thanksgiving. Between them, they decided Sam wasn't going to move in till Freddie had moved out. His flight was in the morning at seven forty-eight am, so their sleep was disrupted by their respective alarms at just gone half five. Mrs. Benson was busy smothering her child with kisses, as Sam snuck into the apartment.

"I'm going to miss you so much, Freddiekins," Marissa sobbed, her hands around Freddie's neck as she made him lean downwards. He managed to get out of her grip and leaned down to kiss her cheek.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

Marissa smiled, looking over at Sam. "I'm sure Samantha—I mean, Sam, my apologises – old habits die hard – will look after me perfectly fine. I'm only off my feet for a few more months." Freddie nodded in response, bringing the last of his bags out of his doorway. Sam grabbed one of the large duffle bags and carried it over her shoulder. "Now, now, get to the airport." She tossed Sam her keys. "You crash it, it comes out of your wages."