lovesong (sam kiszka x reader)

5

i'd been in frankenmuth for about a month now. sam and i had gotten really close, and even though i would never admit it, i knew i had a thing for him. the twins and i had become better friends, and i even went with them to a few movies at the movie house in town. they were funny, and truly did love each other, even if they got on each other's nerves one too many times a day.

i sat at the drumset in the kiszka's garage, tapping out a police tune with my earbuds at full blast. the door opened to show sam, surprised. i took out an earbud. "hey, kiszka. sorry for breaking in, but my kick drum head broke and the new one isn't coming until tuesday."

"not a problem. i just wish i was wearing a shirt." indeed, he was not wearing a shirt. like i said before, he was absolutely and utterly cut like a greek god.

"you're so modest, sam, i love it."

"ha ha," he deadpanned, grabbing a random button-down from the laundry pile by the doorway and taking a seat on the couch. "whatcha playin?"

"i'm trying to play message in a bottle, but no luck. any new songs on your front?"

"i just learned a stevie wonder tune the other day. nothing other than that. wanna go get coffee or something?" he asked.

"sure," i picked up my doc martens and laced them up on the drum throne.

he held the door open as i grabbed my purse. "after you, m'lady."

"what a 'gent," i said sarcastically, bowing.

he drove probably the shittiest toyota corolla i've ever been in, and i used to live in a city famous for drug addicts. it had ratty seats, a broken ac, which was great for two jeans-wearing kids in june, an fm radio, and the carpeting looked like it had been ripped by an animal. you could certainly tell that this was every kiszka's car at some point in time, and it was sam's now.

it puttered as we drove into town slowly, looking for somewhere to park. the rain pounded the hood of the car. we finally found an open spot, and it took him 5 minutes to parallel park, but he was successful.

the shop we picked was the one we frequented, with lots of plants and couches. it always smelled like cinnamon and black coffee inside.

"same as usual?" he asked. i nodded and found a table while he went to order. he was better at talking to people than i was, and i always picked the spot furthest away from people so we could talk about anything we wanted to.

he came back a few minutes later balancing two mugs, filled to the brim.

"thanks, sammy," i said, taking the mug and sipping the brim. he grinned and sat across from me. "so what's the topic of discussion?" i asked.

"well, how do you like frankenmuth? it looks like you've adjusted well, i was just wondering."

"its really nice to live somewhere that's quiet. other than when the twins are around." sam laughed. "seriously, though. it's nice. plus, i feel like i've escaped my past. i'm not haunted by the past year anymore. it's like this town is a breath of fresh air."

"that's great. when i met you, you seemed so, i don't know, reserved. quiet. nervous. you're a new person. you seem happy." he smiled.

"i am. i think. it's nice to hang out with people and feel like i have a little group."

"we're happy to have you. jake and josh think you're hilarious, and danny adores having someone to go on and on about nerdy drum stuff with. plus, ronnie likes having another girl around."

i grinned and we sat in silence. he finally spoke up.

"i'm really happy you're here."

"you keep telling me that, kiszka."

"i know, but its true. like i said when you got here, the only friend i had before outside of my brothers and ronnie was danny. and shit gets repetitive. i love danny, i really do, but i've been friends with him for over 10 years. you can only know so much about a person."

"i mean, there's always-"

"not my point. it's like, something new's in my life now that i can add to the old stuff. it's like when old bands come out with a remastered album or a reimagining or something. its breathing life into the old."

"you're incredibly philosophical today, sam. what's really on your mind?" i asked. setting aside my empty mug.

"i don't kn-"

"stop bullshitting me, kiszka."

"you're gonna be mad." he stared into his mug.

"maybe yes, maybe no. spit it out."

"you."

"huh?" i looked at him but he didn't meet my eyes.

"you heard me. you're on my mind."

"sam."

"y/n."

"you can't do this, sammy. we've known each other for a month."

"i'm sorry."

"yeah. okay."

god, i was shaking so bad. i grabbed my bag, put in my earbuds, and pushed away my chair, walking away.

"y/n, i'm sorry!" he shouted.

"yeah, i'm sorry too." i pushed open the door and stepped outside, the warm rain slapping my face.

i sighed as i stormed down the sidewalk, boys don't cry by the cure filling my ears.

boys may not cry, but girls sure do.

my mind spiraled. he's only known me for a month? does he really feel that way? was he using me? did he even want to be friends with me, or was he pretending to get in my pants? god, i'm so stupid for thinking he was different. sure, i feel the same way, but i shouldn't.

huge puddles the size of small swimming pools filled my street, so i took off my boots and held them by the laces, still sobbing. the song ended, and lovesong soon filled the same space in my ears. damn it.

at that moment, a car sped past me, dodging a puddle so i didn't get splashed. the car pulled into the kiszka's driveway a few houses in front of me. i stopped walking, thinking for a moment. i saw sam get out of the car, his hair pulled crazily into a bun.

"y/n, i'm serious, i didn't mean it. i came on too strong. i didn't want to hurt your feelings. goddamn it, say something!" shouted faintly across the street. he started walking to meet me. i didn't move.

"y/n?" he asked when he got to me. i responded, but not verbally.

however far away, i will always love you,

i shot up to meet his face, practically smashing my lips on his.

however long i stay, i will always love you,

he let out a gasp of surprise but didn't move from where he was standing. rain thundered on the pavement around us.

whatever words i say, i will always love you,

instead of backing away, he put his hands gently on my waist. i brought mine to his face, cupping his jawline.

i will always love you.