Fic! Sam fic!
Before you read this, make sure you read:
A is for Amuck
B is for Bric-A-Brac
Title: the Kid Was Alright, But it Went to His Head
Author: Lizi (start_screaming)
Disclaimer: I own Rhys and Chloe. It'd be cool if I owned Sam and Dean though. But alas, I don't.
Fandom: Supernatural
Words: 896
Medium: TV Show
Genre: Relationship
Pairing: Sam/OFC
Characters: Sam, Rhys
Theme: C is for Crow. (crow: [eat crow] Informal. to be forced to admit to having made a mistake, as by retracting an emphatic statement.)
Rating: PG13 for language
Warnings: None yet, at least I don't think.
Author's Notes: Part 3/26.
&
Sam & Rhys
One of the things that Rhys and I had in common was our intricate ability to write out any and everything we were thinking. We did that sometimes. Just sat and wrote. Dean and Chloe would be out…being Dean and Chloe, and we'd be back in the hotel room or wherever we were, scribbling down thoughts or, on our more artsy days, drawing them. I'd describe and Rhys would draw. This was one of the earlier types. I really didn't know what to write today, so my thoughts had poured into a semi-freeform paragraph, documenting my feelings over the past few days. It sort of poured off the pen in a jumble of words…I wasn't even sure if it made much sense.
In myths, there's love for beauty, love for mind and love for kindness. Most myths cover the three of them separate, but never together. Mythical romances were asthetical only. But when you find someone that you really love, heart and soul, mind and spirit, you should be able to just tell them. It should be not so much like a mythical romance, but a romance novel romance. True lovers, destined for one another…but there's always that one dramatic flaw.
My one dramatic flaw? Well, I know what it is. But, no one else does. No one else can or will. I guess I'm destined to live in loneliness, because she can never know.
After Jess, I thought I'd never love again, but it was like, all along, even before Jess came into my life--
I paused and looked over my shoulder as I felt a shadow looming over me. Rhys was reading what I was writing? Jesus Christ, thank God I didn't write too many details, because…that would just be tragic. "Can I help you?" I asked as I half-hid the paper from her. Normally, Rhys and I read what one another wrote, but today was different. I'd never written about…her…before. Not during our little veg sessions. I looked up at the bemused look on her face and raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"You spelled 'aesthetical' wrong…" she pointed at the word and looked at me, all-knowingly. Rhys was something of a know-it-all. At least with English. And math--hell, she just knew everything. "And after 'really love,' between that and 'heart and soul?' There should be a semi-colon, not a comma…" she backed off.
And thus, I should have known better to fight her on this. But I did anyway. Because she ALWAYS won when it came to battles of the English language. She was smart, and it was great. But she should have been an English teacher instead of a hunter. "Aesthetical…well, if I spelled it wrong…how do you spell it?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at her, leaving my piece uncorrected--well, I did change the comma to a semi-colon, because now that she mentioned it, it did make sense.
"A E s t h e t i c a l. The e is kinda silent…it's a common mistake, Sam. Don't feel bad…" she spoke as she ran her hand through her hair. I was glad she'd decided to grow it out again. It looked really good like that. But, why was I going off on the tangent of her hair? I was supposed to be arguing the point of…fuck, that hair was distracting.
I snapped myself out of it and cleared my throat. "That sounds like some whacked-out Rhys way of getting me to screw up…" I huffed. I hadn't spelled the word wrong. It looked right. It sounded right…I reached to my left and got the dictionary.
Rhys sat on the bed and shrugged her shoulders, continuing to work on her piece. "Suit yourself…" she picked her pen back up and started writing. Even her handwriting was perfect. Each letter like a meticulous art in itself. I tried not to chuckle out loud. "It's not my piece that--"
"I'm looking, I'm looking!" I interrupted her, looking for any word that began with 'ae.' I huffed. Sure enough, right in the middle of the page sat the word--spelled the way Rhys had spelled it. "Oh. Okay. Sorry…" I scribbled out the word with my pen and rewrote it above, then continued on with my piece, taking a quick glance at Rhys for inspiration.
--she was there. It's odd that you don't see these things for ten years (wow, has it been ten years? That's insane.), but sometimes it just takes…one second of the light hitting someone the right way to see what was always there.
'You know that no matter what happens, I'm here, right, Sam?'
That was the moment, right there. When it happened to me. Sitting on the rooftop of a ten-story building in Springettbury, Pennsylvania on November second, she spoke those words and it was kind of like…angels sang around her. Corny. I know. But, I wanted to tell her that I knew, and that I was there for her, too…but in that light, with that warm, welcoming face she was giving me; all I could do was nod.
One of a kind, that Rhys Griffith.
I glanced up to make sure she wasn't looking. I watched her eyes raise, and she gave me a small smile. And what I was writing--it was reaffirmed in that second.
One of a kind, that Rhys Griffith. And I think I'm in love.
A is for Amuck
B is for Bric-A-Brac
Title: the Kid Was Alright, But it Went to His Head
Author: Lizi (start_screaming)
Disclaimer: I own Rhys and Chloe. It'd be cool if I owned Sam and Dean though. But alas, I don't.
Fandom: Supernatural
Words: 896
Medium: TV Show
Genre: Relationship
Pairing: Sam/OFC
Characters: Sam, Rhys
Theme: C is for Crow. (crow: [eat crow] Informal. to be forced to admit to having made a mistake, as by retracting an emphatic statement.)
Rating: PG13 for language
Warnings: None yet, at least I don't think.
Author's Notes: Part 3/26.
&
Sam & Rhys
One of the things that Rhys and I had in common was our intricate ability to write out any and everything we were thinking. We did that sometimes. Just sat and wrote. Dean and Chloe would be out…being Dean and Chloe, and we'd be back in the hotel room or wherever we were, scribbling down thoughts or, on our more artsy days, drawing them. I'd describe and Rhys would draw. This was one of the earlier types. I really didn't know what to write today, so my thoughts had poured into a semi-freeform paragraph, documenting my feelings over the past few days. It sort of poured off the pen in a jumble of words…I wasn't even sure if it made much sense.
In myths, there's love for beauty, love for mind and love for kindness. Most myths cover the three of them separate, but never together. Mythical romances were asthetical only. But when you find someone that you really love, heart and soul, mind and spirit, you should be able to just tell them. It should be not so much like a mythical romance, but a romance novel romance. True lovers, destined for one another…but there's always that one dramatic flaw.
My one dramatic flaw? Well, I know what it is. But, no one else does. No one else can or will. I guess I'm destined to live in loneliness, because she can never know.
After Jess, I thought I'd never love again, but it was like, all along, even before Jess came into my life--
I paused and looked over my shoulder as I felt a shadow looming over me. Rhys was reading what I was writing? Jesus Christ, thank God I didn't write too many details, because…that would just be tragic. "Can I help you?" I asked as I half-hid the paper from her. Normally, Rhys and I read what one another wrote, but today was different. I'd never written about…her…before. Not during our little veg sessions. I looked up at the bemused look on her face and raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"You spelled 'aesthetical' wrong…" she pointed at the word and looked at me, all-knowingly. Rhys was something of a know-it-all. At least with English. And math--hell, she just knew everything. "And after 'really love,' between that and 'heart and soul?' There should be a semi-colon, not a comma…" she backed off.
And thus, I should have known better to fight her on this. But I did anyway. Because she ALWAYS won when it came to battles of the English language. She was smart, and it was great. But she should have been an English teacher instead of a hunter. "Aesthetical…well, if I spelled it wrong…how do you spell it?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at her, leaving my piece uncorrected--well, I did change the comma to a semi-colon, because now that she mentioned it, it did make sense.
"A E s t h e t i c a l. The e is kinda silent…it's a common mistake, Sam. Don't feel bad…" she spoke as she ran her hand through her hair. I was glad she'd decided to grow it out again. It looked really good like that. But, why was I going off on the tangent of her hair? I was supposed to be arguing the point of…fuck, that hair was distracting.
I snapped myself out of it and cleared my throat. "That sounds like some whacked-out Rhys way of getting me to screw up…" I huffed. I hadn't spelled the word wrong. It looked right. It sounded right…I reached to my left and got the dictionary.
Rhys sat on the bed and shrugged her shoulders, continuing to work on her piece. "Suit yourself…" she picked her pen back up and started writing. Even her handwriting was perfect. Each letter like a meticulous art in itself. I tried not to chuckle out loud. "It's not my piece that--"
"I'm looking, I'm looking!" I interrupted her, looking for any word that began with 'ae.' I huffed. Sure enough, right in the middle of the page sat the word--spelled the way Rhys had spelled it. "Oh. Okay. Sorry…" I scribbled out the word with my pen and rewrote it above, then continued on with my piece, taking a quick glance at Rhys for inspiration.
--she was there. It's odd that you don't see these things for ten years (wow, has it been ten years? That's insane.), but sometimes it just takes…one second of the light hitting someone the right way to see what was always there.
'You know that no matter what happens, I'm here, right, Sam?'
That was the moment, right there. When it happened to me. Sitting on the rooftop of a ten-story building in Springettbury, Pennsylvania on November second, she spoke those words and it was kind of like…angels sang around her. Corny. I know. But, I wanted to tell her that I knew, and that I was there for her, too…but in that light, with that warm, welcoming face she was giving me; all I could do was nod.
One of a kind, that Rhys Griffith.
I glanced up to make sure she wasn't looking. I watched her eyes raise, and she gave me a small smile. And what I was writing--it was reaffirmed in that second.
One of a kind, that Rhys Griffith. And I think I'm in love.