𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙍𝙔𝙒𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙀

– CARLY DOES NOT, AND WOULD NEVER, EXPECT KAIA TO RELENT. if anything, it’s usually carly the one who does, not finding anything worth the confrontation – but it is kaia who makes her feel like the confrontation could be worth it, like the curiosity that carly has about her has more value if it could ever possibly be sated. what kaia sees in herself as darkness, carly sees depth – something neverending. in the same way that black holes are beautiful, maybe, but it’s just like carly to see the beauty in what could be destruction. “ move over ? ” carly echoes, brows knitting together. “ you want to share ? ” the bossiness, the complete lack of formalities – that, carly is used to. but kaia wanting to share the same vicinity as her is new. honestly, carly’s not sure what people have favorite benches for if not sleep. every favorite place is a favorite napping place for her. she sits up a little, pats the space next to her amicably as if to call kaia’s bluff ( which she very well might, ) catching her eye again with a smile, “ alright, then. ” 

          ❛   forced  you  to  leave ?  that’s  a  lot  of  credit  you  give  them.   ❜    minjeong  couldn’t  care  less  if  this  was  meant  to  be  a  jab  or  not,  it’s  a  lazy  one  at  best,  not  even  enough  to  make  her  roll  her  eyes.  a  sigh,  somewhat  disappointed.    ❛   that  might  be  the  first  interesting  thing  you  have  going  on.   ❜    evidently,  kaia  would  be  running  away  from  the  only  exciting  situation  she  could  find  herself  in,  how  incredibly  fucking  boring.  almost  on  cue,  there’s  a  fleeing  attempt  being  made,  making  minjeong  grin  in  the  other’s  blindside,  a  few  steps  taken  backwards  to  follow  the  pace,  quick  one - eighty  to  set  the  course  straight.  she  won’t  jog  to  catch  up,  her  tempo  a  fast  one  to  begin  with.  and  she  doesn’t  want  to  spill  her  food  all  over.    ❛   come  on,  the  previews  that  fucking  interesting ?   ❜    or  is  she  scared  minjeong  might  be  more  ?  the  movies  themselves  look  borderline  obnoxious,  that’s  not  something  she’ll  allow  to  be  dismissed  over.  it’s  not  a  pleasant  encounter,  theirs  never  are,  but  it  does  make  the  evening  slightly  more  interesting.  both  here  for  a  show,  why  not  have  a  first  act.  it’s  not  like  kaia  doesn’t  know  how  to  produce  a  slasher.  which  is  all  healed  saved  for  faint  scared  marks,  by  the  way.  just  some  extra  bracelets  to  cover  this  shit  a  bit  better.

“Okay, now you’re pushing it.” He gently nudged her. As she leaned in closer, maybe he did lean in a bit too. Was he taking advantage of the closeness that she provided? Absolutely but within reason. P.J. needed this, he needed the attention and Martina was probably the only one to give it to him like this. He just had to remember not to cross the line too much. He paused, unsure of what to say or how to react. To think he was her hero, though he didn’t feel like one at all. “Sometimes,” he began. “I wonder why you think so highly of me. I’m just a regular guy, nothing special.” He was smart but so was everyone else at Gallagher, even Martina who came from a family of spies was better than him. He was nothing compared to all of them. Just a regular guy. “You’re more hero-like than I am.” A true hero that he would read about in books, the kind that always good and just. The one who cared about others and had a pure heart, that was Martina Washington, the actual hero. He chuckled. “You don’t like plaid? How come, I think it looks great!” 

There’s absolutely no shame in the way his cheeks start to turn rosy at the word boyfriend. God, Martina Washington called him her boyfriend. What had normal ever felt like to him before these days? Sam raises his brows just slightly at her analysis, surprised he’d rank so high in her list of good people when he has to assume that she’s become the way she is by being surrounded by only the best the world had to offer her, watching and learning like an eternal student until she formed and fitted herself into the kind and bright person she is today. A corner of his lip turns up suddenly, grateful for the thought that he was a part of that circle now, knowing that in return he was studying from her too, how to better himself, how to take this one life of his and make it count for the people around him. “I learn from the best,” he tells her simply, bringing her head close and placing a soft kiss on the top of her head. “I’ll be kinder, promise.” He’s hung on her every word, waiting with childlike excitement to share in whatever secret she’s about to let him in on, and when she finally does speak, his brow creases for a moment as he tries to understand. She’s so close he wonders if maybe he’s missing the fuller picture— an elaborate hand gesture or broad expression that would really seal the deal— but then Martina explains further and suddenly the pieces fit together and realization with a touch of laughter washes over him, his breath condensing in the space between them when a small chuckle escapes. Of course they had only managed to find each other where they shouldn’t have been, where they weren’t looking. Martina’s nose is cold but her touch is warm against his skin and Sam thinks this is exactly what happiness is supposed to feel like. “You were exactly where you were supposed to be,” he smiles, cupping her face. “Thanks for finding me.”

– CARLY LOVES THAT FEELING WHEN YOU’VE JUST WOKEN UP. that dreamy, idyllic haze … a certain cozy drowsiness, knowing that if you just rolled over and shut your eyes again, you could go right back to sleep. it’d be that easy. until it isn’t. she knows the voice even before kaia’s image is fully processed in her mind. by the time carly does meet kaia’s gaze, she can feel the heat rising to her cheeks. it’s typical of being around kaia, the girl could make anyone feel embarrassed for existing – an uncanny ability for making carly’s heart race. “ you can’t own a bench, ” carly says and signs. then she pauses, “ well, at least not this bench. it belongs to nemean lion. ” probably a little too sassy for a girl whose hair is practically sticking up on the left side, still brushing sleep out of her eyes. never too drowsy to want to step it to kaia’s challenge, though. she’s long decided not to let the other girl walk on her, regardless of the way their relationship seems to fluctuate like the most confusing roller coaster of all time. “ are you going to find another ? ” 

It’s hard not to latch onto the words ‘It just means a lot to me’ and start to overthink about just why that might be. Sam can’t help start to smile at that, trying not to show it too hard, but if he thinks about it, he can’t really recall ever wanting to hide his happiness from her, especially when she is so often the cause of it. He does, however, hope he can hide the small flush of rosiness starting to warm his face— he could probably blame it on the summer sun and heat. His smile grows anyway, unable to keep it together at her next comment, and Sam is determined to do all he can to show her just how much he cares for her in turn. His gaze flits for just a second to her hand on his, then comes back to her, but all he can think about is her thumb grazing his skin even as he answers her. “I suppose not, and far be it from me to tell you what to do. Think of it as more a suggestion?” he offers, grinning and once again deferring to her a he walks in after her. He’s still admiring everything, making notes and mental comparisons about which pieces of the home look like they’ve been touched by her specific brand of loveliness, and almost doesn’t heed her warning when he nearly trips after his sight lands on her instead. “Blue would have been a good touch— though don’t tell your Mom I disagreed,” he adds in quickly, hoping not to lose the head-start he has already. The entire time, he’s been fully aware that she hadn’t yet let go of his hand and had rejoiced in every second he’d had it, and notices of course when she gives one more squeeze before letting go. Small disappointment, but it was alright, he was confident he’d find his hand in hers soon anyway. “How could I forget a woman’s best friend?” Sam calls after her, then lets out another gentle laugh at her questions, shaking his head in response. “I came all this way to see you, Martina, please. All I wanna do is hear your voice— in person, and not through a speaker this time.”

Every bit of anxious planning and impatient nerves are worth this reaction, he thinks, drinking up the feeling he gets at her wondrous eyes, that look so full of amazement and awe that he thinks he might do anything in the world to keep her smiling like that. It’s a dangerous thought when he remembers that he’s not by her side the way he really wants to be, but friends can also do a lot for each other, can’t they? Besides, part of the reason he’s here is to make it clear to the both of them that he does want to be by her side. Her voice in his ear makes his chest tighten and then melt again, and it reminds Sam that no matter what, a friend like Martina is already such a blessing. He just can’t help it if this friend also takes up so many of his thoughts day in and day out. “Hi,” he repeats quietly back, even though he’s already greeted her, maybe because he’s not sure how else to keep going, or he also just can’t believe that they’re really here.

Sam tries to stay grounded to her doorstep, even as her touch trails from his back to his arms, but he just nods along to keep explaining his presence here. “I sure hope so,” he chuckles, scratching the back of his head because it really sounds like something he should have earned for being more important in her life, but it had been necessary and he’s endlessly grateful to be on Martina’s mother’s good side anyway. “She can be… intimidating, but most moms are, right? Besides, it’s really obvious she just cares a lot about you,” Sam smiles. Is it weird he’s talking about her mom so much? It’s suddenly entirely too easy to start overthinking this, remembering how crazy all of this is, but he’ll have to endure it. For her. As if on cue, Martina exclaims again the insanity of his being here. “I honestly can’t believe it myself,” he responds, a breathy laugh escaping him as he shakes his head. “It wasn’t even that long, don’t worry, really, I’m fine,” he insists. It’s hard to explain to her out loud that it’s nearly impossible to feel tired in her company when being around her is like being woken by pure morning sunlight. Bright, effervescent, energetic. Her hands find his, linking in between his fingers, and Sam feels his nerves heighten in that moment, only to vanish again, heart laid at ease to feel the warmth of her palms, guiding him into her home with a welcoming smile, and it’s like everything makes sense again. Sam’s smile is wide, breath easy again and eyes soft as he follows in, taking it all in like a museum. “God, your house is… gorgeous,” he mutters as he glances around, and it makes sense that someone as lovely as Martina grew up in a palace, and then his face lights up again as he expectantly asks, “Alice?”

“You were born to keep the world warm,” Sam responds, an assured smile on his face like what he’s saying is simple fact, and he definitely believes that to be true. “I’m just the extremely lucky and mildly selfish idiot who gets to keep you next to me most days,” he finishes, and squeezes her for good measure, relishing in their proximity, beyond grateful that they’ve gotten to spend some of the holiday together. It’s crazy, he thinks, how their relationship had only started this semester, but already they feel such a glaring loss when not around each other. He’s already closer now from the squeeze, but grins wider and leans his face even closer to hers as if prompting her to whisper it, “Tell me.” In the closeness, he has the perfect vantage point to catch her gaze turn even gentler, more earnest, and his goofy smile softens, instantly melting even as perfect flakes of snow fall against her inky black hair, sitting there like stars in her galaxy, Martina the sun. Her words make his own heart squeeze, and god it’s insane to think he can continue to fall more in love with her as he nods in return. “Anything and everything. Together.”

“i am sure you could if you tried,” ting says, as an attempt at banter and a joke, hating the way the air around her feels so heavy now. she misses feeling normal in social interactions, and it’s only been a few days. “yes, this looks nice.” with the more heavy duty pins and the both of them holding up the banner, they manage to get it more tightly secured this time, and when she steps down from her own step stool, she’s pleased when the banner stays put. it’s a small victory, but one she needed. “i have been to so many homes of family friends and neighbors who have had to hang this up, and it feels a bit silly that i never considered i would have to do the same someday.”

“I know you are. And I’m thankful that you’re here.” Out of everyone here, Martina was the first to see him at his lowest. And even when he hurt her– twice–, she still stayed at his side. He couldn’t tell if it was the power of love or friendship that was keeping her tied to him like this, whichever it was, he was grateful for it. “I’m not entirely sure,” P.J. answered. “I mean, it’s not like I wanted to come to spy school in the first place.” Twice, twice he had to follow along to his father’s desire because of what happened to Ruby. It angered him years ago but now… now he wasn’t too sure. Because while attending both spy schools in New Mexico and Virginia, P.J. was given the opportunity to meet some amazing people. And one of them was sitting in this very room, looking up at him as if he meant everything to her. And in a way, she meant everything to him too, he just wasn’t sure if their definitions of “everything” were the same.  “Maybe I’ll become a spy in the future, maybe I’ll become President of the United States. I don’t really know.” 

What did he know? A lot of things actually. Sleep, his arm to heal, to leave Gallagher and go to Oxford– okay, that was more of a want than a need. But it was a necessity and priority for him, so that was enough… right? “No, I’m fine,” he said, turning slightly to watch her look through the cabinets and drawers. “Seriously, Mars, you don’t have to do anything for me. I’m fine.” No matter how many times he said that out loud he still didn’t feel fine. Silence filled the space after her question, P.J. letting it sit with him before he said anything. Did he at least feel like a spy after that? “Yeah,” P.J. answered, surprised by the words that fell from his mouth. “Yeah, I did feel like one. Despite how… how scared I was, I felt like a true spy in that moment.” 

Finally, she was smiling ( while crying because he chose to ignore that ). P.J. felt like he had accomplished something big, though, it was always a big thing if he got her to smile. He almost let go of her hand to wipe away her tears, though because of his hesitation, Martina had did it herself. Maybe that was for the best. “Yeah, I’m happy that I’m okay too.” The fears from that night was still eating away at him, he trying his best to not think about them. Not with another person in the room, especially not Martina. She has already seen him at his lowest and in turn, he hurt her. He can’t do that again. “Uh, check the cabinets. Maybe there’s something in there.” 

“Three steps sounds perfect.” He should be able to keep that up and hopefully for a long time. “I’m entrusting you with all of this, Martina. You tell me the steps, the brands to buy, whatever. I’ll do it.” His face was after all his best asset. While he was more than a pretty face, it was the first thing that many saw when it came to him. So of course he had to take care of it, not to achieve eternal youth. But to always remain handsome. 

“This?” Them getting pizza together with his son? “No, it’s not. Just two… old friends meeting up after so long.” He wouldn’t have done this with his other employees, especially not a body guard unless he was meeting someone important. Wait, was this weird then? Maybe Martina was trying to hint at the weirdness of this, of course, not like they were close anymore. That was his fault anyways. “But if you’re uncomfortable because of this, you’re more than welcome to leave.” Alexander, who was quiet for most of the conversation, made a sound of confusion, though Shuo simply ignored it. He didn’t have the chance to say anything else as the waiter appeared, ready to take their order. “Oh, um, can we have–” 

“Pizza with broccoli on it!” Alexander shouted, hands slamming down on the table as he looked at the waiter first and then Martina. “Because that’s what you like, right? We can share it.” 

"Have I ever let you down?” Martina asks with good humor, already formulating a routine for him to start. Silly as it sounds, a small part of her is delighted that he’s taking her skincare suggestions so seriously. He is also taking her seriously, even if it’s about something frivolous. “You’ll have a youthful glow in no time,” she teases, but, again, she doesn’t think he needs it. He glows all on his own.

His words settle at the bottom of her stomach. “Old friends,” she affirms with a nod. They haven’t been friends in some time, longer than PJ’s absence was thought to be permanent in her life. She remembered seeing him and feeling her heart turn in her chest, world paling because the sight of him was so vivid. To Martina, they weren’t friends from that moment on. But she supposed how she felt never mattered much to PJ, did it? “No,” she responds too quickly, shaking her head emphatically. “No, it’s not that. I wanted to know what you are to me.” Your boss, Tina. Obviously. “Right now, so I would know what to call you.” A beat. “PJ.”

There is just no other possible response to seeing her stand before him now than to smile like an idiot, chest filling with the sweet feeling of his longing for her, the sun beaming down on them somehow dimming in comparison to her bright eyes. He’s spent plenty of these summer days with that golden thrum of happiness beating in his heart, even from just seeing her face through a screen, from hearing her wind-chime timbre through the speaker of his phone. But it’s an entirely different feeling when Martina is here, now, real. Sam thinks briefly of how there’s a timeline out there where she’d chosen not to return to Gallagher, where he’d have to have lived most of his days without her there, relying mostly on calls and letters and visits. Every bone in his body thanks the heavens above them that that isn’t his reality now, because as much joy as she delivers him in those smaller shared moments, nothing will ever beat the real thing.

His grin is wide, eyes crinkling in unison too, and then she says his name and any trace of nerves or fatigue melts away, but all he can say is, “Hi,” like the love-sick fool he is. His first instinct is to reach for her poor phone, but when her arms start to reach for him, Sam’s body quickly shifts momentum to instead open both of his own arms to her, and just like that, he’s holding her tight against him, every bit of excitement and joy squeezing her in return. Sometimes when he’s with her, Sam thinks nothing matters more to him than what he can do for her. Of course he’d catch her.

“Surprise,” he says, voice muffled against her hair, loathe to let go, and there’s no hiding the elation that slips into his words and laughter that gets carried through the breeze. “I couldn’t really wait until the school year started to get to see you again, and I knew we both had some time this summer, so I figured… I’d get myself to Florida,” Sam explains still smiling, reluctantly releasing her but still holding her shoulders under an arm’s length away. “Oh, and I talked to your mom about it,” he assures her, chuckling. “All above board here, don’t worry.”

A new feeling emerges when she effortlessly falls into Sam. One that’s airy and golden like a breeze threaded with sunlight blowing the door leading to her heart open. He immediately latches onto her and she laughs as they squeeze each other, Martina gently trailing her palms along the space between his shoulder blades. “Hi,” she breathes, and she wonders if he can feel her smile plump her cheeks. There is no room inside her body for self-consciousness, all of the space occupied by the shape of Sam and the wave of good feelings that he brought with him. He didn’t have to be by her side to fill her up, but Martina decided that it’s, like, way better when she can drink in his physical presence, inhale the boyish citrus scent that mists the outline of his skin.