You Drive Me Crazy || Sam Evans

47. Spanish Teacher

Melanie's room was softly lit, with books and papers scattered along the floor, long forgotten as her attention was fully occupied by Sam, whose lips were pressed against hers. He hovered above her, one hand braced on the mattress beside her head while the other rested firmly on her waist. Her hands slid up his arms, feeling the tension in his muscles as he supported himself, before tangling in his hair.

When she tugged gently, a low sound rumbled in his chest—a soft, needy hum that sent a thrill down her spine. His lips moved against hers with growing urgency, each kiss deeper and more fervent than the last.

The hand on her waist tightened, and Melanie's heart pounded in her chest, the sound of it nearly drowning out the soft gasps and the faint creak of the mattress beneath them. His thumb brushed her side, the simple motion sending a spark through her that made her arch slightly into his touch.

Sam shifted, leaning closer, his weight pressing more firmly against her. The kiss deepened, his lips parting to capture hers more fully. Melanie's hands slid from his hair to his shoulders, trying to pull him even closer. Every movement, every touch, was electric. She tilted her head, giving him better access, and the soft scrape of his teeth against her lower lip drew an involuntary gasp from her.

Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as his kisses grew hungrier, more insistent.

And then, suddenly, it stopped.

Sam pulled away, and Melanie let out a soft whine at the sudden loss, her lips tingling from the kiss. She blinked up at him in confusion as he hovered above her, his face flushed and his breathing uneven.

"Uh, it's getting late. I should probably get going," he said, his voice tinged with awkwardness.

Melanie frowned, pushing herself up onto her elbows. "It's five," she pointed out, her brows knitting together.

"Yeah, but it's a school night," he replied quickly, avoiding her eyes as he swung his legs off the bed. "And I have homework."

The excuses stung, and Melanie's chest tightened as she watched him stand. He hastily pulled on his sneakers, grabbing his backpack from the floor with more urgency than necessary.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Love you," Sam said, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her cheek before rushing out the door.

"Love you too," Melanie muttered, her voice barely audible as the sound of the front door opening and slamming shut echoed through the house.

She groaned, collapsing back onto the bed with a frustrated huff, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. This wasn't the first time. Lately, every time things began to heat up between them, Sam would find a reason—any reason—to leave. Homework. Practice. Always something. At first, she'd brushed it off, but now it felt like a pattern.

Melanie sighed, her mind racing with insecurities and doubts.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Melanie stood at her locker, carefully sliding a book onto the shelf before shutting the door with a soft click. She adjusted the strap of her bag over her shoulder, ready to head to her next class, when she suddenly felt an arm loop through hers. Startled, she turned to see Santana, who practically dragging her down the hall.

"I need a favor, Mouse," Santana said.

Melanie blinked in confusion, letting herself be pulled along. "Uh, okay?" she replied hesitantly.

"I'm filing a complaint about Mr. Schue's Spanish class," Santana announced, her voice dripping with irritation.

Melanie's brows lifted slightly, and she nodded, her lips forming an understanding "oh" shape.