🖤

The next morning you and Sam slept in.

You awoke to the smell of breakfast foods, and the sounds of pots and pans clattering in the kitchen as the family moved about to prepare their spread. Breakfast usually was a fend for yourself sort of event in the Kiszka household, but considering all of the children were leaving that evening, it seemed they had all agreed to put something together. It made you smile, happy to have one last sit down with everyone now that you were no longer harboring a killer secret.

Sam's entire body was sprawled across your own. He was snoring slightly, his lips mere centimeters away from your ear and each little whistle that escaped them caused your hair to tickle your neck. Neither one of you had gotten dressed again after your escapades, though you had cleaned up some.

He'd gotten out of bed once he'd finally regained sensation in his lower limbs, stumbling slightly on trembling knees and making you laugh. "Shh," he'd hushed, waving his hand wildly, "I'm trying to hear if anybody is still awake."

You had bitten your cheeks to keep from laughing harder, watching on as he pressed his ear to the door before thinking again and cracking it open just slightly. He'd listened for a long few seconds, pressing his ear right up to the crack before he finally had shrugged, "Guess not."

Satisfied with what he'd heard, or hadn't heard rather, Sam had scooped his boxers up off the floor and merely held them over his crotch as he raced across the hallway to the bathroom and quickly shut himself inside. You'd scoffed as he had left the bedroom door wide open, exposing you to anyone who should come to investigate his sudden sprint out of the room, but nobody had. Not a sound could be heard through the house, except the faint noise of the sink running in the bathroom.

He'd come back with a wet rag, still only using his boxers as a shield which he dropped carelessly the moment that he had shut the bedroom door behind him. You had let him clean you up with a fullness in your chest that you hadn't even realized had been missing, your eyes welling with tears of relief. Everything was going to be okay. It was going to take time to feel completely secure again, but for the moment you were content to just be with him.

Sam's body twitching brought you out of your reverie, and you blinked your eyes back into focus just as he lifted his face from your chest with a groan. "What time is it?" he grumbled, and you had to giggle at the mess of hair that hung into his face, "I don't want to get up."

Your eyes squinted at your phone as you fumbled to bring it before your face, feeling a bit surprised as you stated, "It's after eleven--which means if we don't get up, Josh is probably going to come barging in any second."

He groaned again, rolling off of you and collapsing onto his back with a huff. "Can we just sneak out the back door and go home now?" he whined, "I just wanna be with you."

The plea made you grin, your heart skipping a beat at his lovesick confession. You'd missed hearing him say things like that, and you were eager to hear more. Sam was definitely the type to freely offer up words of affirmation, constantly showering you with little compliments and reminding you how much he loved you at every chance he had.

If you were honest, you were half tempted to say yes and run out that back door with him. There was nothing you wanted more than to go home, and get all his stuff and put it back where it was meant to be--with your own. Also, a little part of you was curious to see where he'd been staying since he left. He clearly hadn't been with any of his family, or Danny, so you were hypothesizing the possibility of him hoarding his stuff in hotel rooms.

It would never work, though. For one thing, his family would be pissed. But, more importantly, his key was still somewhere under the bed and you were not about to crawl under there and look for it. Even if calling it his key again, and knowing it truly was, made you smile... you were not getting under Sam's childhood bed. Who was to say what kind of horrors were lurking down in the depths.

"Unfortunately, sweetheart," you cooed teasingly, "you have to find your key under this bed before we can leave. So, while you do that, I'm gonna go eat because I am starving."

Sam groaned again, louder this time as he widened his eyes and pouted, "You're not even going to help me?"

"Not a chance, baby." you laughed, "I don't even want to know what's under this thing."

He didn't make his way into the kitchen for well over an hour, and Josh burst out laughing at the sight of the disgusted look on his face. Sam merely scowled at him, before dropping into the seat at the table beside you and pressing a kiss to your temple. You leaned into the contact, feeling your entire body grow warmer from his affection.

Their parents had already drifted away from the table before Sam's appearance, and now it was just you and the three Kiszka boys. You weren't entirely sure where their sister was, but you hadn't seen her all morning. Nobody was acknowledging her absence, though, so you assumed that it must have been expected.

You had to admit you were rather surprised by Josh's lack of acknowledgment about the change in your attitudes that morning. Part of you had been expecting to be hounded by him the very moment you showed your face, but he never said a word. Even as Sam made a point to always be touching you in some way, be it kissing your face or placing his hand on your thigh, Josh remained oblivious.

For a while, it was relieving, but then it started to make you feel anxious. He'd been so concerned the night before, and now you were worried that perhaps he was angry with you after all. Had he just said that he wasn't because you were so upset? Was he actually upset with you for lying?

You really should have learned not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

As Jake stood at the sink, rinsing his plate, you finally broke. "I'm surprised." you acknowledged, and Josh raised his eyebrows curiously.

"About what?" he questioned, but there was a look in his eye. There was a certain glimmer in those dark irises that warned of danger, and you were stupid not to head the warning when it came.

Gesturing to Sam, who was eating like a starved man and not paying attention to a word you were saying, you prodded, "You're really not going to ask me about it?"

The sink faucet squeaked as Jake shut off the tap, and both twins were smirking. "No need," Josh retorted, "I think we all heard you guys get back together last night. Or, should I say, come together--"

Sam choked on his food, coughing loudly and dropping his fork with a clatter that echoed over the sound of his two older brothers cracking up. "Josh," he wheezed, "shut up!"

You slapped his back a few times in an attempt to help him work through his coughing fit, though really it was to stop you from meeting either of the twins' eyes. Your skin was burning with embarrassment, and you felt hot all over with shame. Why did you have to say anything?

"Yeah, I think we all heard it." Jake continued to taunt, ganging up on you with Josh as he began to mock Sam, "Shh! You have to be quiet!" They began to loudly mimic sex noises, and you sank back into your chair with your hands over your face. "Lover--"

Sam stood suddenly, his chair scraping loudly across the floor with his movement, and he raised his fork threateningly with pink cheeks, "I'll stab you right now, I swear."

Even as the kitchen descended into chaos around you, all you could feel was grateful that the attention was no longer on yourself. There was no way you would ever live this one down, that much you knew for certain. Josh was going to use this against you for the rest of your life.

Seven months later, things were going well. Better than well, actually, they were perfect. Sam was home, his stuff was back where it belonged--though you had bought a new cabinet for his mugs because you were quite attached to your new china display. Everything was back to normal, and you were glad for it.

Even more so, you were practically buzzing with anticipation. A few weeks prior Sam had told you to plan for another weekend off so that the two of you could go back to Frankenmuth again, and you were incredibly sure that this was it. He was finally going to propose!

Well, you hoped so, anyway. There was no way to be certain, but there was no reason to head home again so soon. The devil on your shoulder was telling you there was no possible way that was his reasoning, considering he'd confessed to you that had been his plan for a proposal the first time, but you were just so excited about the idea of it all.

You were pretty sure he could tell you were suspicious of it, too. Every time you questioned him, or pestered him rather, about why you were going back he gave very bland and noncommittal answers. No reason, he said, just thought it might be nice to actually relax the whole weekend instead of the shit that happened last time.

It was safe to say that you weren't buying it.

After the two of you had moved all of his things back home, you'd been a little sneaky. One day you'd returned home early from work to find he was still out, and you'd immediately jumped at the chance to tear the place apart. You'd searched high and low, digging through any possible hiding place you could think of, and each and every one had come up empty.

Nothing, nada, zip. There was no ring to be found, and it had been extremely hard to hide your pout when he came home that evening. It had been even harder to return everything to its rightful place after your ransacking, and you had very nearly been caught up when Sam acknowledged his clothes weren't folded right. You'd made a lame excuse of trying to find a very specific t-shirt of his, though you were pretty sure he knew the truth from the way he'd smirked and pulled it out of his closet on a hanger.

You'd looked through your banking history, charges on credit cards, you'd even dug through the trash for any suspicious receipts to see if perhaps he'd returned it or decided to pick a different one after the failure of his last attempt. Still, no results turned up, and you grew more and more flabbergasted with each shortcoming. Where the hell had he hidden it? Did he just carry it with him everywhere?

The car ride to Frankenmuth was dragging on endlessly.

Sam was completely at ease, driving the speed limit the whole way and singing along with every song that played over the radio, a smile on his face the entire time. You tried to relax, you really did, but it was so hard. It was taking everything in you not to begin rifling through the car in an attempt to find the ring because you knew it was in there somewhere.

"Sammy," you whined, dropping your head back against the headrest, "why are we really going?"

He just laughed, lifting one hand off of the steering wheel to pat your thigh playfully. You huffed as he refused to answer you at all anymore, turning to glare out the window, but your hand fell on top of his regardless. He was quick to tangle your fingers together, squeezing your hand and rubbing slow circles over the back of it with his thumb.

But, then it happened. The car was traveling down the familiar streets, and you watched in confusion as he made a left turn instead of the right turn you knew was the right one. Then, he did it again, turning off onto another road and heading in the complete opposite direction of his family home.

"Uh," you questioned, sitting up straighter and raising your eyebrows expectantly, "did you suddenly forget how to get home?"

He smirked, not even looking at you as he took his hand back and quipped, "Nope."

It didn't take very long for you to recognize where you were, and your heart started racing as a very familiar playground came into view. It was the park where you'd first met him at. As he drove down the narrow road toward the parking lot, you smiled fondly at the sandpit where you'd first interacted with him.

Sam didn't know, but that hadn't been the first place you'd seen him. You'd noticed him first at the skate park, watching from a distance as he did stupid teenage boy shit with his brothers and jumped all over the ramps like an idiot. Thinking back on it, you really weren't sure what it had been about him that caught your eye, but he had.

You had thought that he was the cutest boy you'd ever seen, and that was saying something because you had plenty of crushes before him. There was Drew Sandoval in kindergarten, and Lewis Porter in the second grade, and even Maggie Clark in the third grade. None of them had ever caught your attention so quickly, though, or managed to do it without ever even looking your way.

Like the little stalker you had been at thirteen, you'd followed him all around the park that day from a safe distance away. You had pretended to be texting on your cracked little flip phone, but not once had you taken your eyes off of him. You did that a few times before you finally had the courage to talk to him--or, punch his brother in the face, rather.

Sam opened your door suddenly, and you jumped in surprise as he held his hand out with a chuckle. "You gonna get out some time today, baby?" he asked, and you gave a sheepish smile as you took his hand and climbed out of the seat.

He led you through the park wordlessly, past the swingset and the slide, past the jungle-gym and water fountains, and even past the skate park. You were surprised by the lack of kids, only a few parents pushing toddlers in the baby swings present, but then you remembered that it was a school day. By the time your shoes sank into the sandpit, and Sam finally turned to face you, the two of you were all alone.

Everyone else was out of view, only the faint sound of the chains on the swings creaking reminding you that other people were out there. "Why are we here?" you asked, and you hoped like hell that you were right. Please, please, please, let it be what I think it is, you thought.

"Because," Sam shrugged, taking both your hands in his own and smiling, "this is where we met. I think it's fitting, hopefully romantic."

A little squeak escaped your lips, betraying your attempts to play it cool. He only laughed, tugging you closer and wrapping you up in his arms as he pressed a kiss to your temple. "It is," you mumbled into his chest, "even if we're probably standing in a ton of raccoon shit right now."

He groaned, though there was a trace of laughter in the sound, and he joked, "Well, there go all of my plans of getting down on one knee. Are you happy now?"

Another squeak escaped you, and you buried your nose further into his shirt as you squeezed him so tightly he exhaled roughly. "Sorry," you apologized sheepishly, releasing him and stepping back with a grin you couldn't contain even if you tried, "I don't need you to get down on one knee."

"Oh, so you don't want me to ask?" he teased, stepping away when you reached for him, "I could have sworn you dug through all my clothes trying to find a ring, but I guess I thought wrong."

Lunging forward, you grabbed his hands and dragged him back with a shout, "No, no! I want you to ask."

Sam was laughing wildly as you pulled him so hard you stumbled, both of you tumbling down into the sand with him on top of you. "Relax, lover, jeesh!" he cackled, "Now look what you did, you've got us both rolling around in raccoon shit."

He heaved himself off of you and back onto his feet, reaching down to help you up whilst still laughing. "Shut up." you grumbled, but you were still smiling as you worked to brush the sand off of your clothes and then off of his own. Once the two of you were sufficiently cleaned off, he grabbed your hand again and began to tug you along once more.

"Just a little further, okay?" he informed, and you followed willingly as he led you a short ways away from the end of the sandpit. Your eyes welled up as you saw a picnic set up, two little fake tea light candles flickering light-up flames in the center of the blanket. There was a basket beside them, and on top of the basket was a brown cardboard box.

Sam took one look at you trying to hold back tears and lost it, laughing so hard his shoulders shook and he had to support himself on his knees. "Okay," he gasped, "I--shit, okay. I was going to make you wait until after we ate, but if you're already crying I think I'll go ahead and end your suspense."

You sniffled, wiping the tears that were already falling and whispering, "Yes, please."

He sat down on the blanket, patting the space across from him as a request for you to sit as well, and you did with shaky knees. You watched, eagerly, as he grabbed the cardboard box and held it in his lap before clearing his throat. Growing serious, he grabbed your left hand and held it as he began to speak, "(Y/N), the first time I saw you I was standing right here."

"You were with a bunch of your friends, and I remember thinking how pretty you were. I never told you this, because honestly, it's a little embarrassing, but I stared at you for so long that Jake started making fun of me." he continued, cheeks turning pink, "I called him a stupid asshole, and that was when he pushed me into the sandpit and gave me a wedgie that made me cry like a little bitch."

You let out a little giggle, squeezing his hand as he pushed on, "I hated him so much for embarrassing me in front of you, but when I decided I wanted to propose I thanked him. He was helping me pick out a ring, and he was the one who found the one I bought, and I just said... thank you. Because, if it wasn't for him, I don't know if I ever would have found the balls to speak to you. He, of course, threatened to give me another if I needed a little encouragement, but the sentiment was there. He's still an asshole--"

"I'm getting off track, sorry." he shook his head, and you were smiling so hard your cheeks hurt, "I'm going to cut this short, because let's be real, you know that I've been obsessed with you since the moment I saw you. I've loved you since the first look, and I'll love you until the last. I'll find you in the next life and do it all over again if it means I'll always have you by my side."

He took a deep breath, and you cried a little harder as you saw his own eyes welling up with tears. His fingers were trembling as he released your hand to begin opening the box, and you waited with bated breath as he said, "Using the words of someone I love very much: lover, this isn't a ring--but this is a proposal. Will you please make my dream finally come true, and marry me?"

You choked on a sobbed laugh as he pulled a mug out of the box, the very same one you'd bought years before for his collection and had broken after he had left. "Where the hell did you even find this thing?" you spluttered, wiping your face messily to clear away the tears that were still falling before grabbing it from him.

Sam scoffed, "You're really more concerned about where I found the mug?"

Your fingers were idly tracing over the weird, sculpted face on the outside of the mug as he spoke, but you quickly dropped it and crawled into his lap with a peel of laughter. "Sorry, baby," you replied, cradling his face between your hands as he gripped your hips tightly, "of course, the answer is yes. It's the only answer."

He gave a playful sigh of relief before he was lurching forward to press his lips to yours. It was a messy kiss, both of your faces dripping with tears of happiness, but it was passionate. You felt all of his love washing over you as he pulled you impossibly closer, sighing against your lips for real as he fell back and tugged you with him.

Faintly, in the distance, you could just make out the sound of Josh cheering, "I think that's a yes!" More cheering followed, before he was yelling, "Don't you dare fuck on that blanket, assholes, it's mine!" Even more faintly, you could hear his whine as someone undoubtedly hit him for ruining a cute moment.