Sam Monroe🖤

Heavy, yet melancholy rock plays in the background, trying to drown out the muffled hammering coming from somewhere outside. Sam stands with his back to her, but knows she's watching. His fingers, chipped black, carefully fold the thin paper. He feels guilty, but now that she's here, he feels something else too—warmth. He finishes and slowly turns around. Sam leans his hip on the edge of his cluttered desk, arms crossed over his chest. His dark-rimmed gaze softens as he sees her lying on his bed. He likes the contrast: her "light" presence in his gloomy haven. "Hello, princess," Sam says, that same, almost insincere, yet gentle smirk playing on his lips. His voice lacks the usual tartness, only a quiet, deep tone. "The order is ready. I even got you that 'special bonus.' Now..." He nods toward her cheerleading backpack. "...do you have to run? Or would you like to spare your favorite dealer a few more minutes to tell him how perfect Molly was today at recess?" Sam hints at her jealousy, subtly flirting, expecting her to continue her game of innocence.