
if i look back, i am lost
we're not kids anymore.
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Incredible / 04 out of 04.
@tuwam
First the cab.
Or maybe not. First it was the walk out of the restaurant, the high of the flush over her skin and Sam’s hands unable to leave her side, then Sam’s mouth unable to detach itself from anywhere they could land. Her smiling lips, her nose, her rosy cheeks, the tender spot under her chin.
The one that caught her laughter in her throat or any other sound whenever he closed his mouth around it the tip of his tongue knew to touch to get Jamie to close her eyes and have his name in a quiet sound leaving her. First that, standing by the curb of the road and her hands holding him still and away, a breath away, so he wouldn’t lean back there.
Then the cab, away from prying eyes and Sam leaning in her space, invited, wanted right there. With his hands against her dress and hers undoing every detail in the styling of his hair. She liked it natural anyways, without all that gel, unruly, the way it always wanted to be in the morning.
She liked being able to feel it soft under her hands, but this would do too.
Followed by the rush of paying the driver, of finding the door of his building. The laughter that fell to hushed tones, Jamie’s finger against his smiling mouth, the press of it against her finger and making her lean up to get the same on her lips. The urgency in stealing a breath and two, pulling away but needing to fall back in.
The lift, the climb up, the wait, the glances out to see if anyone was spying on them when it dinged to a stop. The walk–the stumbling to his door, then the fumbling with her dress, with his shirt, her fingers touching his skin when it was finally off.
She won that race, pushing his shirt off his shoulders. He caught on quickly, the rise of her dress, the easy way he had it in wrinkles on her thighs, then higher, to her waist then higher until Jamie had to stop touching him to let it be pulled over her head.
Turning left and right and bumping and stopping against the back of his couch. Sam’s hand lifting her up on top of it, his mouth going back to her neck, and Jamie finally able to let herself sound the way she knew he wanted her to whenever he pulled with his teeth at her skin.
The slide of him whenever she parted her legs to fit him between, the heat of them as they stilled for a moment there before going any further. When any further was turning quickly into now and Sam knew to get her down and walk them, Jamie on her toes, walking backwards, barely making it on her two legs.
Close enough to the door of his bedroom, but her legs giving away when one of his hands pushed at a string of her underwear and the quick way he had to catch her, around her waist to get her off the ground, let her wound her arms around his neck and her legs back around him.
The softness of the mattress against her back, the hushed secrecy of the growing intimacy, it left its trail down her stomach–moving as he mouthed his way across her skin and Jamie had heard herself let out the most embarrassing sounds before.
It didn’t mean that she wasn’t surprising herself each time they slipped out though, it was still very much sudden each one of them that Sam could get out. The known ones, the familiar ones, the newer, the once in awhile ones, the ones that were still to exist.
The most important of them all were the ones that had his name, they grabbed his attention in a flash, made him quick to come back to her, to press her into the mattress.
Then, at last–everything else that followed behind closed curtains.

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Incredible / 03 out of 04
@tuwam
It was as the first dish arrived, after a little conversation. Listening to Sam talk about a new project, animated in a way she was observing more than interrupting that she noticed the similarities. Her white dress, his white jacket, her golden jewelry, his golden watch. Somehow, getting ready miles apart, they’d chosen the same simplicity, they were matching.
As if Sam had been there when she was picking out her accessories and she’d hand chosen everything he was wearing to go along with her ensemble. Down to the sleek push back of his hair and the sides of her own, before her curls broke out of the classical look and added its modern touch.
She was so absorbed in that, in how he looked facing her right now and in watching him speak, she lost herself a bit and came back to his gaze intent on her, focused in the way she was watching him. Also, her fork had been against her lips for the longest with a piece of cheese probably begging to be freed from the sharp touch of its teeth and she did so. Took it right off her fork, felt her hand being pulled where it was rested on the table.
Sam’s fingers sliding in the space between hers and Jamie’s thumb immediately sought the familiarity of his skin, rubbing gently.
“Penny for your thoughts.” “They’re golden.”
Over this table between them, that distance that they couldn’t close because of proper etiquette and eyes that may rise to understand what they were up to if they were to even try to do something about what his gaze meant and what hers was conveying back.
His thumb was now moving against hers, a battle of her own. A gentle one, where swords would never be needed. Fulfilling a need to touch and to know they were on the same land, they were together in this moment.
Then Sam took hers off the table and brought it to his mouth, pressed his lips against her palm and Jamie held in a breath, because Sam was starting to know her a little too well.
“I was thinking,” She started, closing her eyes, blinked them open to blurt out, “That with you looking the way you do I won’t need any dessert.”
If the world stilled and Sam too and Jamie’s heart, and everything else but the flow of her blood. She couldn’t hear or feel any of it except for Sam’s eyes refusing to let go of hers and nothing else, not even the more than exquisite meal waiting for her in its plate was going to be able to undo this.
Sam’s lips found the pulse inside her wrist.
“We’re not getting dessert then.” “Okay.”
Incredible / 02 out of 04
@tuwam
Jamie expected the ride to be quiet, but then–then surprises were part of the ordeal for the night. A song playing on the radio five minutes in and Sam was nudging her side because she was mumbling to its melody without realizing. The first notes already out and she looked up at him when she felt it, arching her eyebrows. A question in his gesture.
“So this is to your taste?” “And?”
Cheesy pop music was probably what he meant by this is your taste. Because of course Sam would be looking at her like it was exactly that, cheesy pop music that sort of didn’t sit well probably with everything else Jamie stood for. She probably seemed more classical than anything, more so into the indie scene of the musical art, but no. No, Jamie liked her pop music. Cheap, repetitive, full of the same chords and always with the same intention of getting you addicted to the same melody.
So she frowned at him, challenging in a way right before she started singing a bit louder, which in turn made the driver ask them if they liked the song too. Jamie’s grin, Sam’s groan and a few more minutes of Jamie listening to the driver joining in on the chorus and the rest of the song. Then the other two that came on and the jolly atmosphere that instantly took over the inside of the cab.
Her laughter came in the midst of it all, Sam’s face trying to not break into one of his own and Jamie fingers lightly poking his side so that it could finally break the facade. There was no way she was not charming her way to his distaste of her musical taste. Sure enough, three songs in and even he was mouthing some of the words and moving his feet to the rhythm.
The magic of pop. It left a driver content with a bonus tip, Jamie’s cheerful goodbye and a smile that many, many would request from her to brighten their day. Given freely, before Sam was tugging her away from the window of their driver, sliding his hand into hers and reminding her of why all of this joy even existed.
“See, not that bad right?”
It was Jamie’s turn to nudge his side, her fingers tightening around his.
Sam stayed quiet, then hummed, they neared the door of the restaurant when he pushed the door he finally gave her an answer. Looking back at where Jamie was ready to let it go as one of those questions not needing an answer, but surprises, again, were part of this night.
“If it’s you singing it, maybe not.”
A second longer and Jamie would have asked him what he meant, but it was right on cue for her to beam after a blink and match his pace to the reception desk. Promptly responding, “I’ll serenade you next time.”
“Please don’t.” “Why, why, why?” “You know why.”
Did she? She felt like probing some more but the employee behind the desk already had a smile for them and Jamie could never resist one, she was flashing it right back and they were immediately in the midst of finding their reservation and table.
A corner of the restaurant, a dimly lit establishment itself, and enough privacy that Jamie was relieved to find, but yes she still had to let of his hand and sit a table apart from him. Not being quite ready for it meant she let them wait until the waiter had pulled their chairs and was gone before tugging on his hand and say before their lips touched, “Say you’ll let me serenade you.”
Her eyes were on his lids, lowered was his gaze, to her moving lips and Jamie wanted to give in before hearing him say the words. But no, not yet. She pressed closer, tugged him lower.
“Sam.” “Okay.”
Not that she would have given up on the idea had he kept on denying her, but it still felt needed for him to admit to it–for Jamie to kiss him softly with it before letting go and getting to her seat.
Incredible / 01 out of 04
@tuwam ( sam & jamie on an actual official date night )
“I’m glad we’re getting a cab.” Sam said as they waited. The cold was not nipping, it was a gentle reminder to keep warm. Which they were doing, pressed together, side to side, her head against his shoulder and her arm across his back. Sam’s chin against the top of her head and Jamie was sure his words had a foggy breath from the sigh she heard following them.
“Because?” She asked, closing her eyes as he held his hand out for another cab, the first two had passed them without stopping. Giving them more time to see more warmth and frankly, Jamie wasn’t against this waiting and not being interrupted by anybody else or anything else.
The third driver slowed and stopped for them and she had to wait until they’d given directions and settled in the back of the car before Sam answered, “I wouldn’t have been able to drive you anywhere.”
It was an answer, but it felt cut, like he was holding onto some words. As if there was more to it than just the abrupt way it ended, there was always more to it with Sam. She knew that, she knew how to get them out too, no–not by kissing them out of him. Sometimes, Jamie knew it was better to hear them clear and not in a daze.
As the car took off and they were on their way, she went back where she knew herself to find the most comfort. Where the heat was natural and stayed still, where she felt nestled in safety and closed her eyes again, because that helped her focus on everything else. The beat of his heart, the uneven rhythm it had with hers, the speed of the ride, Sam’s fingers drawing a pattern against her side, through the cotton of her coat.
“Because?” “Because,”
She could guess his answer, probably would get it right if she ventured into finishing his sentence. But, fishing for compliments was not something she was ever ashamed of doing. With Sam, or Hanna, or her mother, or her father, or her brother, or anyone else she could pull it out from. But especially from Sam, because it grew wings, it fluttered in her chest, it traveled, it unraveled, it made its place under her skin, it made her warm, it rose dusted pink on her cheeks.
When he finally pressed it against her hair, You look incredible tonight, Jamie burrowed against his shoulder, pressed her face into the cologne she could find there. A spray that was distinctively his and wherever she would catch it, in any stores, on any one else, she would immediately be reminded of his shoulder and the imprint his clothes always left on her cheek when she fell asleep against it.
Or how lazy it made her to move once she found the comfort of its pillow.
Hanna was right, this was not their first date and Jamie was uncharacteristically nervous, but this night was feeling just like his words. Quite incredible.
she was nervous. @tuwam ( ft. hanna and sam as a side character or smth )
“why are you nervous? this isn’t your first date.”
thanks hanna, jamie looked up from where she was trying to fit her earrings in for the god knew-th time, wearing nothing else but a pout. a very confused pout, her eyebrows almost meeting amidst the wrinkles they formed on her forehead.
“it’s true!” hanna shrugged, looking sheepish, at least a little guilty as she rose from the bed to get close enough and swat at jamie’s fingers. “let me take that before you make yourself bleed.”
jamie took a breath in, it was true. this was not her first date. or the first time she was going out with sam, or hanging out with sam. they’d done many other things as well that should have made tonight an easy breeze to pass through. yet, as the universe could witness right now and her ear probably would have cursed if it could speak–jamie was nervous.
very much so.
like a giant ball that one stressed so much that it just started bouncing left and right and refused to settle. as if it’d been filled with the most mentos and coke ever shaken in the world. she was buzzing with nerves. if she opened her mouth to speak on it, she was sure she would end up blabbering or maybe just letting out an embarrassing sobbing sound.
that was hw strong it was. also why she kept quiet and resigned herself to merely showing her appreciation for hanna’s help and presence and words by literally lunging at her once the beautiful set of earrings were now rightly hanging on her earlobes, and giving her the strongest hold she’d ever given her.
“i can’t breathe jamie.” “just one a bit longer.” wow she found her voice.
the strong hold she had on hanna was literally making her release some of the anxiousness and it was starting to show in how she slowly began to need the tight grip less and less. her arms softening around her friend, hanna’s arms wound themselves around her as well. jamie felt a few pats against her back. adding to the whole soothing sensation that was beginning to take over her.
“you’re such a baby.” “nothing new here, so just hold me tighter please.” “this shouldn’t be my job, the person who put you in this state should come and fix it.”
protests were heard as soon as hanna said those words, jamie shook her head, her curls and the style hanna had spent hours working on bouncing with the movement.
“don’t talk about it! just hug it out of me!”
hanna was laughing, but giving in and jamie felt more than relived to feel ehrself out of breath once she gave into her instructions and squeezed her just that a bit more.
enough that it only took jamie a few seconds before she was the one coughing and begging to be let go of.
“ok, ok, i need air now. air is good. i will breathe and be good now you can let go.” “you’re lucky i don’t want to ruin what i did to your hair or i would have tickled you mercilessly right now.”
hanna let go and facing her once more, jamie blinked at seeing clearer than before. her eyes shut themselves by instinct when hands came to her face, cupping her cheeks making her blink her eyes open, inquisitive and posed.
“you go dazzle that boy. he should be the one being breathlessly nervous right now.” “says who?” “me, because if he isn’t, it means he doesn’t care as much as he should and i am more than ready to take him out no matter how much you don’t want that, if he doesn’t act even the least bit like he should be nervous to have you for a whole night when i was here before him and you’re choosing him over me for nights out now.”
well–that was a lot.
jamie was laughing now, not totally in the safe zone, but god did she feel light now.
“he invited me.” “yeah well, you would have said no if it had been someone else.”
touche.
“you’ll never not be my number one. i’ll cancel right now if–” “then sulk all night long or be on your phone all night long, i’d rather you just get lost than have you stuck in love sick mode around me.” “i don’t get love sick!”
hanna threw her a look, jamie quietly held it for as long as she could before clearing her throat and pretending to fix her hair. at least the bit that had escaped the sleek pushed back style they’d been made for.
“at what time is he coming anyways?” “what time is it right now?”
right, she’d been so absorbed in her panic that she forgot time was ticking and–
“7pm.” “shit, where’s my phone?”
now to scramble and gather her things, jamie found her phone under a pile of clothes from her earlier runway show with her closet and hanna’s judging skills for outfit of the date.
the messages appeared in a bunch.
“god, he’s been here for awhile, oh my god, i have become that girl who is always late because she can’t get it together to figure out what she wants!” “you’ve always been that girl.” “be on my side!” “i am.”
literally, jamie was at the door, letting sam know she was coming immediately–soon ish–right now–and hanna was next to her, holding it open, watching her leave. but before she did that, jamie stepped back in her embrace, leaving a resounding and the imprint of her lipstick against hanna’s cheek.
“i love you most!”
hanna answer, was a loud echo in the hall, where jamie’s back was to her because she was facing the way sam was waiting down the hall.
“liar!”
an accusation that had jamie turn around and hold her arms in a heart, then blow a kiss, before gingerly turning back to where her heels wanted her to hurry to.
sam had a hand towards her and jamie took it to let herself be pulled in for a kiss. she had no idea if sam ever had the same nervous antics that she had when it came to him–during certain occasions–but he had a tendency to kiss words on her mouth.
those that he didn’t know how to say. jamie knew that because at times, they would slip past against her lips, barely audible, as if they weren’t meant to but here there were anyways. soft and telling and this was strongly becoming her favorite and their best tool of communication.
it occurred to her, between sam mouthing that she looked beautiful, and jamie apologizing for making him wait. still standing still, and her heels holding her at almost the same height as him. as he kept kissing her to the point of having moved his hands on her waist and jamie’s own holding his face as her mouth held onto each touch of his.
it occurred to her that hanna was right, jamie was a bit of a liar, and she was so screwed because that truth was turning blatantly clear with each passing day.

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