Sam walked into Ophelia's room with nothing but the worst intentions. He saw her sitting at her desk, typing away on her laptop as she tapped her foot nervously against the floor. "What are you doing?" Sam asks, making Ophelia nearly jump out of the chair. "What the fuck, Sam? How did you even get in here?" She exclaims, turning over the chair to give him a wide eyed look. He holds up a keycard between his fingers, "Took it from Jess." He shrugs nonchalantly, and Ophelia's mouth falls open. "That's... got to be illegal. Why the hell you do feel like you need constant access to my room?" She squints her eyes at him, draping her arm over the back of her chair as she looks at him. "Don't act like that doesn't excite you. The fact that I can come in here whenever I want, walk in on you doing anything." He gives her a grin, and she scoffs. "That is terrifying, Sam. Give me that. Now." She holds out her hand for the key, but he only holds his hand up as high as he can reach. "Come get it." He raises his eyebrows. She sighs, turning back to her laptop. "I have homework to do. I don't have time for your stupid games." She grumbles, going back to typing her essay. "Homework can wait." Suddenly, he was behind her with his hands on her shoulders. She tensed up against his touch, "Go bother someone else."
"You don't want that, do you?" He says, his voice ringing in her ears like a bell as he leaned down, pressing his lips to her earlobe. "I have to zoom with my professor in 5 minutes. Get out of my room." She warns, trying her hardest to ignore his tactics. "5 minutes is enough time." He whispers, using his fingers to pull her hair out of the way before connecting his lips with her neck. "This is not how this works. Just because we've messed around doesn't mean you can come in my room whenever you want and fuck me." Ophelia scolds, getting more annoyed with him by the second. "Someone's got an attitude." He says, his lips still working across her neck as his hands run down to her stomach. "Today is not a good day, Samuel." She was trying her hardest not to stand up and shove her off of him. "Why's that?" He mumbles into her skin, kissing over a spot he'd created a hickey on just the other day. "It's none of your fucking business." She clenches her jaw, pushing his hand off of her body. "I'm not gonna stop until you tell me why you're in such a bad mood."
"Maybe you doing this is the reason I'm in a bad mood." She scowls, trying to focus on her essay and ignore him. "You and I both know that's not true - not considering the way you were screaming my name the other day." Sam offers, and Ophelia groans, standing up from her chair and pushing him off of her. "It's the anniversary of the day my mom died. There. Are you happy?" She says, tears filling her eyes as she watches his face contort into a surprised expression. "Oh. Shit." He says quietly, and she rolls her eyes. "So, please, just leave me alone. I can usually deal with you being a prick, but not today. Come back tomorrow, or something." She says, her voice breaking halfway through her sentence. Sam stands there, unsure of what to say to her. "And yes, before you bring it up again, I know that I'm the reason she died. I know I killed her. You don't have to fucking say it. I know!" She yells, tears rolling down her cheeks now as her face flushes with anger.
Sam wasn't sure whether to respond to that or not. He wasn't even sure why he had said that in the first place, but he felt horrible about it. "I wasn't gonna say anything." He mumbles awkwardly, looking down at her as she breaks down, sobs etching their way from her throat. He puts his hand on her arm, trying to comfort her in any way. She shoves him off of her, still completely hysteric. "Don't." She says, "You don't have to act like you care. I know you don't give a shit about me apart from fucking me, so, just don't." Her voice was low, like the situation genuinely upset her. "Just let me be nice to you for once." Sam furrows his eyebrows, ignoring her struggles and weak attempts to push him away as he pulls her in for a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around her. After struggling for a few seconds, she finally gave up, wrapping her arms weakly around him and sobbing into his chest. "It wasn't your fault." He mumbles softly, running his hand over her hair. "Nobody is to blame for anyone's addictions. Sure, she wanted the best for you, but that doesn't mean you're in any way the reason she died." He rubs her back, resting his chin on top of her head.
