Sam x Reader: Shattered

Sam x Reader Imagine: Shattered

You and Sam had been friends for as long as you could remember, when he'd moved away seven years ago all you could think about was his smile and sympathetic eyes and how the likelihood of seeing them again was about as real as a bloodsucking vampire. Well, if only you knew...

When your boyfriend left it didn't really surprise you. I mean, you hardly even kissed never mind had sex. He'd yell at you, tell you to snap out of it and sometimes lash out. There would always be a permanent reminder of your turbulent relationship, just underneath your jawline, where he had clamped his hands tightly around your windpipe and squeezed, almost crushing the very breath from you. Of course it had been your fault, everything negative that happened was supposedly because of your carelessness and solidarity.

All you ever did was sit in the local coffee shop, right at the back on a plaid settee, reading classic love stories with a mug of coffee and Lana Del Rey flooding your headphones. The words of the small tattoo that curled elegantly on the inside of your wrist were the only thing you were certain of, "La tristesse durera toujours (The sadness will last forever)"

It was a day like any other, you had Jane Eyre clutched in your left hand and your headphones in, walking slowly towards the coffee shop. You felt someone tap your shoulder gently and by instinct you spun round, arm raised ready to bat them away. You were met with a set of hazel eyes, that were opened wide in shock. "(Y/N)?" the man whispered, the hazel eyes now swimming with glazed tears. Your throat closed up, and it took all you could just to nod and break a weak smile. "Sam." you managed in a hoarse whisper.

The familiar smell of fresh coffee assaulted your senses and you let it in, breathing deeply and grinning. The regular waiters shook their head in your direction and said "The usual?" you nodded, "Times two please."

You sat curled up on the sofa, and pulled your jumper sleeves up to your elbows, never quite able to predict how warm it was going to be inside. Sam was sat at the other end of the settee, placing the coffee down on the table, then leaning back to look at you. "How long has it been?" He asked, licking his lips nervously. "Seven years." You laughed disbelievingly. "You're just as pretty as I remember." Sam replied, his tone sincere. The tips of his ears turning a light shade of red as he spoke. Very soon your cheeks turned the same colour. "Shut up." you teased, poking your tongue between your teeth in a lopsided smile. "What does your tattoo mean?" he asked, reaching to trace the black ink written across your skin, grazing it with the pad of his thumb. "The sadness will last forever. Supposedly Vincent Van Gogh's last words." you breathed, still aware of Sam's touch ghosting over your hand. "I'm sorry-" he began, but you had been deprived of his touch for so long and you weren't about to let it go. So you shuffled next to him, searching his eyes for a sign that it was okay. Sam being Sam, he understood. Maybe even shared the same feelings. No that's ridiculous, you hadn't seen each other for years.

It was obvious he had seen the marks around your jawline and was refraining from asking about it. That's what you loved about him, he knew when to respect your privacy and-

Wait... Love?

Sam fumbled awkwardly closer to you, looking straight at you with an intense gaze that set your insides alight. He leant forward and left small peppered kisses along your jawline. "Tell me who did this and I'll gut them." he growled against your neck, sending involuntary shivers pulsing through you. "Doesn't matter Sam, he left ages ago."

You and Sam sat talking for hours, the space between you growing less and less by the second. You felt like he hadn't gone away at all.