Drowning
He’s six-foot-five of solid muscle, but her fingers encircle his wrists like manacles and he can’t break free. His straining arms lack the strength to push her smaller form away. Desperate kicks churn the water, bubbles rising as he is forced inexorably into the depths.
Her lips are pressed against his and, though the water is frigid, the fluid flowing into his mouth is thick and hot. The taste is bitterly familiar, craved and despised in equal measure, and he swallows hungrily as he continues to sink.
When Sam wakes, Ruby is curled at his side, smiling in her sleep.