iBeautifulDisaster

Chapter 2: iFTW

Chapter 2: iFTW (updated spelling and grammar)

Original A/N: The iCarly characters for this story are a bit OOC. Just throwing that out there.

FREDDIES POV:

"Gladly," I said, narrowing my eyes.

I felt my adrenaline surge through my veins, the pounding of my blood echoing in my ears. She made me so angry, yet I couldn't deny the rush I got from her proximity. It seemed like she thrived on picking fights with me. After we broke up, things only escalated, and we found ourselves constantly at odds... not that the fighting ever truly stopped. But at least back then, I could kiss her when we made up. Now, I'd forever have the urge to silence her with a kiss. She didn't need to see that note. I did.

Lately, I'd been pouring myself into workouts—fencing, boxing, lifting weights, and running. It made me feel good. In the gym, Sam's haunting memory seemed distant, and if it did intrude, it only drove me to push myself harder.

Swiftly, I pushed her against the lockers, gripping her wrist just so, ensuring no harm but forcing her to drop the note. Her eyes widened in disbelief, as if she didn't think I had it in me. Well, Samantha, welcome to my new "fuck the world" attitude. Releasing her wrist, I snatched up the note and stuffed it into my pocket. Locking eyes with her, I warned, "Don't mess with me, Puckett." Turning to grab my backpack, I barely dodged a fist hurtling toward my face.

SAMS POV:

WHEN DID FREDDIE TURN INTO THIS BADASS GUY I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW? I replayed our elevator conversation in my mind, 'Or if you get a little less normal...'. My pulse quickened.I glanced up just in time to witness Brad's attempted punch at Fredward's face, only to find Freddie swiftly intercepting his fist with a powerful maneuver. Effortlessly, Freddie redirected Brad's wrist behind his back, utilizing the momentum to push him off balance, causing him to stumble. I don't get it, when did he get so aware, so...strong? Glancing over, I noticed Carly practically swooning. Great! Now he's going to get exactly what he's wanted his whole life. A sinking feeling settled in my stomach as my heart shattered once more, reminiscent of our private moments in that confounded elevator. Again. Seriously? that elevator seems to haunt us. Freddie looked at Brad with a mix of confusion and anger.

Here's a corrected version of the dialogue:

"What the hell, dude." Did Freddie just curse in front of people other than me? That never happens. Ever.

"I... I... I... I thought you were going to hurt S... S... Sam. S... Sorry." Hurt me physically? Freddie? Haha.

"Look, man, I didn't mean to scare you, and FYI, I would NEVER, and I do mean NEVER, hurt Sam."

My head tilted at the mention of my name, like a dog's. All I could think was, "Too late, Freddie, too late." He might not be able to hurt me physically, but mentally and emotionally, I'm broken. Of course, I'd never admit that to anyone or say it out loud. Period.

"Sam, I'm sorry, did I actually hurt you?" he said, rolling his eyes.

"As if, Benson," I scoffed. Though truth be told, I was actually thinking, "Yes, yes you did. Just not in the way you're talking about."

"See, Bradley? She's fine. I've known Sam my whole life; I know exactly how much it takes to hurt her, and I wouldn't ever do that." Fine? He never uses "fine" unless he's referencing his favorite line from the "Italian Job," where it stands for "Freaked out, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional." Why does he know me this well? I hate it.

"Well, okay. I'm sorry, bro. I just... I don't know what came over me. Sam, are you ready to go?"

I stared at him, bewildered. I could feel all three pairs of eyes on me, but I couldn't tear my gaze away from Freddie's... hands. I realize how silly that might sound, but they were so big, so strong-looking. Why hadn't I noticed before? Why did I suddenly have this overwhelming desire for him to touch me, to envelop me in him?