ꜰᴏᴏʟ'ꜱ ᴍᴀᴛᴇ || ᴛᴡᴅ

049: ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴꜱ

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Days in Alexandria got comfortable again.

They had food. They were growing more. Danny started getting nosebleeds on the regular, and wasn't sure why. He just lay on the ground for a bit and let it pass. He didn't feel good.

Sami was fine, physically. Except for the fact that Rosita seemed to pick up on the fact that he wasn't feeling good mentally.

He'd been feeling guilty. Really guilty, for everything that has ever happened him, every since his Dad died. He'd been having nightmares about it again. About everything, really. Expecially Lori. And Maggie. He had to force himself to look at Judith so he associated her with her, and not her mother.

But, at some point, since Abraham had broken up with Rosita, Sami wasn't entirely sure how long ago, but he and Rosita just started hooking up. They never kissed, it just seemed to be both of their ways to deal with their pain, though Sami wasn't entirely sure if that was true on his end, and it made him feel sick that he didn't know himself. Which made no sense to Sami. He still freaked out about people touching him. It'd only been a few months or so since Sinead. Why did was he okay with hooking up with Rosita? Should he be? Shouldn't he be?

He knew she didn't know how he felt, though. He mostly just liked being around her, but she'd be gone by morning, often taking the clothes he'd given her the night before. He missed his Queen shirt. It was one of the only English bands he liked before the world ended. 

She was much more upfront with him now, though. She often told him when she was pissed off at someone. He'd just be doing whatever, she'd sit beside him and complain. Most recently, it had been Spencer. He'd been extremely annoying.

"So, if you didn't already have plans, I was thinking of making my beef jerky stroganoff." Spencer was saying, as he followed her over to the infirmary, where Sami was waiting for her. He didn't know what 'stroganoff' meant. He didn't like the sound of it.

"I'm good, thanks."

"It's better that it sounds."

"I'm sure it is." She sighed, standing beside Sami, putting his legs between her and Spencer, as he was sitting on a bench, legs out and crossed in front of him, as he stitched up a hole in one of Carl's shirts, Rosita's hand resting on his shoulder.

Spencer just looked at her with that disgusting smirk 

Rosita looked at Spencer. "What?"

"What are we doing?"

"I'm right here." Sami said, continuing to look at what he was stitching. "No undying love confessions while I'm around, please."

Spencer looked at him, sighing. "Then can you leave?"

"Can you?" Sami hiccupped. "I was here first."

Spencer looked at Rosita.

"No." She shook her head. "I got places to be."

He sighed, backing away slowly. "Alright. I'll talk to you . . . later."

Spencer took off down the street.

Sami glanced at her. "What was that?"

"Nothing." She took her hand off his shoulder, looking at him, then to the shirt he was stitching. "What's all this?"

He ignored her. "You're not hooking up with him, too, are you? Cause I can tell you right now-"

"One: it's none of your business, Sami."

"It is as your friend." He stabbed his finger with the needle and hissed. "That guy . . . he'll end up just . . . weird."

She looked at him. "And you won't?"