head turns slightly to peer down at her, inhaling the scent of her hair — content hum follows, subtle smirk plastered upon his features.
“i’m just enjoying your company. nothin’ wrong with that, love.” eugh, 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒. he never calls +
the immediate reciprocation nearly makes her recoil ˏ but she allows it regardless . resting her head on his shoulder ˏ humming at his words .
“ pfft ˏ says you . i’m surprised you haven’t burst into flames yet . ”
offering an almost 𝑚𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 smile her way, exhaling through his nose as he eyes the dagger closely.
“well ... you’re not particularly a 𝑙𝑎𝑑𝑦, are you? a lady is usually a human.”
chocolate hues flicker to an inky black , whites completely disappearing. only to turn back into those of a human’s , keeping the dagger still pointed at the male .
“ oh , now you want to talk —- it’s rude to attack a lady in her home , you know ? bad manners .”
unsure whether to believe such a coincidence —— sam lowers the baton, drops it to the floor with a harsh exhale.
“i’m not paranoid.” cue a scoff, hand lowering to paw at the gun stuffed into his belt. +
ㅤ
"i wasn't—" her expression twists into an incredulous stare, hands remaining up in surrender while she * slowly eases herself onto her feet. "paranoid, much ?
put the uh, baton down. why are you even carrying that ?"
ㅤ
the 𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑒 ... that was a new lead, something for sam to cling to when he felt lost and useless in cases like those. he lowered the paper, shoved it into his pocket once more, and pulled out a different one. same missing +
Annabelle would carefully take the poster from him, her fingertips brushing the edge of it before she looked down to examine it.
he remembered them, a woman she encountered a week prior during one of her 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘴.
Oh, she 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 he was lying.
She found it interesting to—
poster, different person. “and her? do you know her — i think she worked at the bank.” he handed it over, allowing annabelle a closer look.
the more questions he asked and the increase in questions and victims definitely disproved +
“why didn’t you tell me —— you 𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑑 to me, victoria.” truth was, sam wasn’t sure he’d accept her regardless of her honesty.
brown hues flicked to the side, over her shoulder and into the distance. “can we just talk? please?”
prayers filled his mind, begging god to change everything about that night —— 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 make her human, make her something worth keeping around; turn her into something mundane enough for sam to feel the guilt fade whenever he +
she couldn't believe her sight. why did he have to read that letter ? why couldn't he have just burnt it alongside the rest of the useless mail he receives. palms trembled as she attempted to regain control of her breathing mechanisms-- ⧽
to a 𝑠tray dog staring back at him. hand lowered, fingers grazed over his belt, inching closer to the gun.
not quite equipping it. not quite ready to shoot. sam let out a heavy breath, stepping even closer to victoria. +