Sam
I groaned as the light streamed in from a crack in the curtains, waking me. My mouth felt drier than the Sahara desert and my head was pounding like no tomorrow.
"Hungover?" A voice inquired, startling me.
"Fuck," I cursed, whipping my head in the direction of the voice, my eyes landing on Rory's dad standing in the doorway, clutching a cuppa in his hands. I had slept over at Rory's house on the sofa downstairs. Since we'd gotten together, I'd not been allowed to sleep in my girlfriend's room. Her dad's rule. Not until she was sixteen at least. It was a rule we'd both respected as he had both our interests at heart. "Jamie."
"Y'alreet, kid?" he asked in concern as I sat up on the sofa, taking a seat next to me and handing me the cuppa. "Rory said ya've had a rough night."
"Don't remember much," I groaned, sipping on the hot liquid. "What did she say?"
"Not a lot, figured she didn't want to embarrass ya much. Can't say the same for Dean," he snorted, resting backwards on the pillows.
"What did he do?" I asked in intrigue.
"Cried over how pretty Harlow was, apparently," he laughed.
"Dad?" Rory called out as she shuffled downstairs, wrapped in the fleece that usually adorned the bottom of her bed. "You're not interrogating me boyfriend, are ya?" She stumbled over towards the sofa and threw herself between us, letting out a loud groan. I steadied the scalding tea in my hands, careful not to spill it from her movement and sent her a disbelieving look. "Sorry, babe."
"We're just having a nice chat," Jamie laughed, taking note of his daughter's dishevelled state. I still thought she looked like the most beautiful girl on the planet, even hungover. I let out a noise of protest as she nicked the hot mug from my hands and took a deep gulp, pulling a face as she swallowed the liquid.
"Forgot you like shit tea," she grumbled as she handed it back to me.
"Just because I don't put half a cup of milk in, don't mean it's shit. You're the one who likes shit tea," I scoffed, lifting my arm around her to pull her into my side. My actions dictated the tone of my words, my lips pressing to her temple.
"He's not wrong, Despicable, the amount of milk ya have in your tea," Jamie piped up.
"Cheers. My boyfriend and my dad ganging up on me like," she huffed.
"For good reason an' all," I laughed, watching her jut her bottom lip outwards and deepen the frown on her face. "Ya look so cute, reet now."
"I'm annoyed at you, stop sweet talking us," she pouted.
"I'll just leave yous to it," Jamie snorted, pushing himself up off the sofa and exiting the living room, messing Rory's hair up on his way out.
"Dad!" she protested, batting his hands away from her head, eliciting a loud laugh from the older man. I drained the last of the liquid in the mug and reached forward, removing my arm from my girlfriend to place it down on the floor before pulling her into my lap. I hummed as she rested her head on my shoulder, my arms wrapped securely around her waist and kissed her lips softly.
"Had a rough night, did I?" I chuckled as I rested my head against the back of the sofa.
"Babe, how much do ya remember?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I vaguely remember Dean crying now that your dad mentioned it, but not much after that." The look she sent me made my stomach flip nervously. "Why? What did I do? I don't like the look you're giving us, Rory."
"You were sick," she told me.
"Oh, was that all?" Surely that wasn't too bad.
"On me," she continued. There it was.
"No," I groaned, resting my head forward in shame.
"After ya told us you loved us for the first time," she giggled.
My head shot up at her words, my eyes widening at the revelation. "I did what?"
"S'alreet, Sammy," she snorted. "Ya don't have to tell me you love me if ya don't wanna."
"W-what?" I asked nervously. I hadn't even thought about what this would mean for us. Course I loved her. Bloody hell, I'd loved her long before we'd gotten into a relationship, but saying those words, admitting them out loud. That was another ballpark.
"You were paralytic. S'alreet if ya wanna take it back, I get it," she assured me, laying her hand against my cheek and turning serious when she noticed my nerves.
"I don't wanna take it back," I frowned, staring deep into her cerulean eyes, "I do. Love you, I mean. Have done for a while now. I know it's soon, I mean we've only been dating for two months but I love ya, Aurora Nightingale."
"I love ya, too Samuel Fender," she grinned, connecting her lips with mine and groaning as my tongue explored her mouth.
"Sorry it wasn't the most romantic confession," I apologised sheepishly as we pulled away for air, my thumb softly stroking the exposed skin on her hip where her pyjama top had risen slightly.
"Wasn't expecting anything less," she snorted, resting her forehead against my cheek, "I knew what I was signing up for with ya."
"Reet, now that's oot of the way, will ya stop calling us Sammy?" I groaned.
"Nah way. It's cute and it annoys you. Win-win," she smirked and let out a loud squeal when I poked her side. "Stop it!"
"That's fine, guess I'll just have to find you a nickname that ya hate," I grumbled.
"Carry on, Sammy," she teased. "Bet ya you won't."
"Believe me, I will," I grunted. "Blossom?"
"That's quite cute actually," she beamed. I let out a huff, throwing her off my lap and onto the sofa before straddling her, quickly pinning her arms above her head to immobilise her and began tickling her. "Sam, stop!" she shrieked.
"Please, don't make me buy a new sofa!" Jamie yelled from the kitchen causing the two of us to freeze and stare at each other before bursting into laughter.
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Drop Dead | Sam Fender
Fanfiction'Did you come around here just to start a fight? Drop dead.' Sam's difficulty with relationships stems all the way back to his adolescence. He hasn't had it easy growing up in the Northeast of England but he managed to escape his teens unscathed. Mo...
