Intoxicated Declarations
Title: Intoxicated Declarations
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 657
Summary: Brooke wants to tell Sam something…
Disclaimer: Please don’t sue, I own nothing. Blah blah blah…
Authors Notes: I’m going to fail Algebra… but Bram is infinitely more important wouldn’t you say so?
Authors Notes 2: Re-Archived! If it looks familiar that's probably because it is
Sam couldn’t help it, god it would be so embarrassing, she honestly tried not to -and really there should be some type of commendation for the amount of effort put forth by the brunette- but in the end it all went to waste as a loud snort/giggle/yelp hybrid tumbled out of her mouth. It really wasn’t Sams fault though, you see; Brooke had the cutest look of utter befuddlement on her face, the catalyst being a question of ‘how on earth was she looking at the ceiling?’ when just moments before she was most definitely upright… Brooke had evidently gotten very friendly with the liquid disinhibitors at Nicole’s End of Summer Bash and was conducting a less-than covert Operation Don’t Wake Up The Rents.
“Need some help, Princess?” Sam quietly asked after composing herself and sitting cross-legged beside the inebriated girl who seemed to be softly humming to herself and just at that moment noticed she wasn’t the only being occupying the elaborate living room rug.
“Heeeey, pretty girl… Oh! Sammy! What are you doing awake? Did I wake you? Was it the ruckus? Could you describe the ruckus?” Brooke giddily slurred. She was quite inwardly proud of herself for her 80’s pop-culture reference. See? She wasn’t that drunk.
“Ah, no actually.” Sam partly confessed, she’d been impatiently pacing in her room, and though she decided hours ago that the blonde would not hear that portion of the truth the journalist felt it unnecessary to have the cheerleader fret over the possibility of also interrupting her fathers beauty rest.
“Oh…” Brooke sat up to lean against the couch with a gasp having just deduced the solution. “No wait! I’ve got it, it was your words.” Definitely, Brooke nodded in conviction.
“My words?” Sam deadpanned; it’s time to put blondie to bed.
“Right! Oh and write, the one with the double-U! You’re always writing your words late at night. That’s why you’re here!” The tipsy resident elaborated staring straight at her housemate making sure she got her point across. Then, almost as an afterthought, she looked down and reached out to cradle Sam’s hand into her lap and studiously examine it. Drawing tiny circles into the palm as a small smile played across her features.
Sam couldn’t breathe.
“So many words…” Brooke mumbled and Sam was forced to lean in closely to catch what she was saying, “Words that flow out of these fingers to a laptop… but before the fingers, of course, the words would go to her arm…” Brooke steadily moves her own fingers to trace a path up Sams forearm and continues to her shoulder while Sam fights valiantly to control her heart rate because it’s spiraling towards cardiac arrest.
Sam stays quiet, spellbound, whatever is happening she doesn’t want to be the one to shatter the fragile moment.
Impossibly alluring hazel eyes bore into her and the brunette does her best not to shiver, “Hundreds of thousands of words, I’ll bet you know all of them.” Brooke lightly taps the almost paralyzed girls temple after brushing a lock of hair behind, in her opinion, the most lickable ear in the world. “I’ve got some words for you, Sammy…” Brooke whispers making Sams stomach flip, “I’m not drunk…” lightly cupping a soft porcelain cheek, the mischievous cheerleader finally brings their lips together.
The kiss was slow, tentative, and a bit awkward considering the way they were positioned on the floor, but still it was everything Brooke had ever fantasized about the way kissing Samantha McPhearson would feel and then some. For example Brooke knew she’d get that tingly feeling in her gut like she always did when Sam was around, but she hadn’t anticipated that it would spread through the rest of her body so quickly, or so intensely.
Sam couldn’t help it, god it would be so embarrassing- she honestly tried not to moan.