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ingoodsentencesTitle: Defending Intentions
Chapter: (3) chills me to the bone
Author: thegraduate09
Words: 595
Fandom: iCarly
Pairing: Sam/Freddie
Rating: M. (for this chapter)
Summary:And less and less funny.
Author's Note: Sequel to "Therapy." Slightly more grown up material, and set a few months after the end of Therapy. I didn't expect for this to get this serious but it looks like it did and it's going to get even more serious.
She’s - she knows how it might seem. She gets - it’s just sex, right? They shouldn’t need it, they should be okay without it for a little while. In theory.
But.
In practice... it doesn’t feel that way. And she’s not sure if it’s just her - it certainly seems everything’s fine to him. It could be her - imagination, or something, she’s not sure, she just. She can’t make the warning bells in her head stop going off. And she hates it, all this worry, all this - dependence, there’s no other word for it. She feels off center and off balance and just plain off just because he’s touching her different, of all the stupid things, and when did she give anyone but especially him that much control of her? She can’t even stay angry about it - she could deal so much better if she could be angry about this change instead of thinking herself in circles and resisting the urge to pack a bag just in case.
She can’t even solidify what’s bothering her into a sentence in her own head. When she manages to get close, it comes out this way, “That’s the line. Isn’t it? There’s got to be a line between - then and now and friends and - this. More. And come on, that’s gotta be it, what else is different?”
But that incomplete summary sticks in her mouth even when she’s just talking to herself in the mirror so she just makes a face and shakes her head and goes to bed, silent again, once she’s convinced herself just a little that this disconnect she’s feeling is a product of too much adrenaline and not enough ham.
~
She’s fine - she’s fine, dealing, waiting patiently, managing - she thinks - not to stress about it all that much, until he goes to hug her one morning before she leaves for work and she pushes him away without even thinking - without even being aware what she was doing. And she forces herself to mumble sorry before she’s out the door, but she can’t, she just can’t manage anything more than that.
~
She’s even more off center all day, and she thought when she had the chance to just think it through a little, she’d be able to calm down some, but after her lunch break it’s almost worse. She’s not mad at him - she’s really not, she feels sure about that, but - if it’s not that, she’s not sure she wants to let herself realize why she did it. But she does.
She just doesn’t understand it. At least - now she has a little anger to try and focus on. Because it can be just a problem that it doesn’t matter to him, can’t it? She can be upset about it not being particularly important to him when this goes away - that’s fair, isn’t it? She knows it’s not close to healthy - but she does relish it a bit, the thought of going home and yelling at him (she can’t ask for reassurance, she’ll probably never be able to), “because really, what kind of guy is just content with a hug in the morning and a kiss goodnight? if you don’t want this, you could just say so.’
Chapter: (3) chills me to the bone
Author: thegraduate09
Words: 595
Fandom: iCarly
Pairing: Sam/Freddie
Rating: M. (for this chapter)
Summary:And less and less funny.
Author's Note: Sequel to "Therapy." Slightly more grown up material, and set a few months after the end of Therapy. I didn't expect for this to get this serious but it looks like it did and it's going to get even more serious.
She’s - she knows how it might seem. She gets - it’s just sex, right? They shouldn’t need it, they should be okay without it for a little while. In theory.
But.
In practice... it doesn’t feel that way. And she’s not sure if it’s just her - it certainly seems everything’s fine to him. It could be her - imagination, or something, she’s not sure, she just. She can’t make the warning bells in her head stop going off. And she hates it, all this worry, all this - dependence, there’s no other word for it. She feels off center and off balance and just plain off just because he’s touching her different, of all the stupid things, and when did she give anyone but especially him that much control of her? She can’t even stay angry about it - she could deal so much better if she could be angry about this change instead of thinking herself in circles and resisting the urge to pack a bag just in case.
She can’t even solidify what’s bothering her into a sentence in her own head. When she manages to get close, it comes out this way, “That’s the line. Isn’t it? There’s got to be a line between - then and now and friends and - this. More. And come on, that’s gotta be it, what else is different?”
But that incomplete summary sticks in her mouth even when she’s just talking to herself in the mirror so she just makes a face and shakes her head and goes to bed, silent again, once she’s convinced herself just a little that this disconnect she’s feeling is a product of too much adrenaline and not enough ham.
~
She’s fine - she’s fine, dealing, waiting patiently, managing - she thinks - not to stress about it all that much, until he goes to hug her one morning before she leaves for work and she pushes him away without even thinking - without even being aware what she was doing. And she forces herself to mumble sorry before she’s out the door, but she can’t, she just can’t manage anything more than that.
~
She’s even more off center all day, and she thought when she had the chance to just think it through a little, she’d be able to calm down some, but after her lunch break it’s almost worse. She’s not mad at him - she’s really not, she feels sure about that, but - if it’s not that, she’s not sure she wants to let herself realize why she did it. But she does.
She just doesn’t understand it. At least - now she has a little anger to try and focus on. Because it can be just a problem that it doesn’t matter to him, can’t it? She can be upset about it not being particularly important to him when this goes away - that’s fair, isn’t it? She knows it’s not close to healthy - but she does relish it a bit, the thought of going home and yelling at him (she can’t ask for reassurance, she’ll probably never be able to), “because really, what kind of guy is just content with a hug in the morning and a kiss goodnight? if you don’t want this, you could just say so.’
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