Summary: He's different. She likes him. She doesn't feel like she needs to change anything about him.
Word Count: 6,387
Disclaimer: Don't own
She doesn't talk to him all weekend after their first date.
And it was so a date.
She doesn't have his number yet, and she thinks it's for the best. She doesn't know if she could have stopped herself from calling him Saturday afternoon when she was bored, or Sunday when she was watching Avatar for the first time and wanted to tell him how stupid she thought it was.
She doesn't remember feeling this way about anyone before. There are butterflies and rushes of something through her veins and she feels like maybe this is what's been missing from her other relationships with boys.
He's different. She likes him. She doesn't feel like she needs to change anything about him.
He smiles at her from the other end of the hall Monday morning as he walks towards her, and she takes a deep breath. How is he so cute? He's got this subtle, sweet thing about him that makes him sexy, and she knows that could get her into trouble, but she doesn't care. Besides, she's stronger now than she was last year.
"Hey," he says once he's next to her at her locker. Either he looks at her class schedule where it's tacked to the inside of her locker, or he's remembered that when he has biology she has chemistry, because he grabs her textbook from the shelf for her. "Walk you to class."
He states it, doesn't ask. She bites her lip, then rubs them together to fix her lip gloss, and nods her head.
They're a few paces down the hall when she says, "Avatar is really dumb," and looks at him from the corner of her eye just to see what his reaction is.
He grins and looks to the floor.
... ... ...
How messed up is it that she might have to thank Rachel Berry for this whole thing?
She sits next to Rachel in math on Wednesday and rolls her eyes at the stupid flowery notebook Rachel writes in and the way she organizes her pens and pencils perfectly on her desk. Quinn tried to be that perfect once, too, but she's learned over the last year what matters and what doesn't.
But really, if Rachel hadn't given that whole lecture on Quinn and Sam working together, they wouldn't have done it. She needed someone to push her in the right direction.
She needed someone to tell her not to be scared, really, or to give her a reason to spend time with a boy she liked and make it okay.
"Hey," she whispers, looking at Rachel. Rachel looks up from her book and it's like she's totally shocked that someone (Quinn) is talking to her. "You really think Sam and I were that good?"
Do you really think it's worth it?
Rachel smiles, a less psycho/weird smile, and nods a little bit, chancing a glance at the teacher so they don't get into trouble. "I voted for you," Rachel says.
Quinn turns her eyes to the front and somehow feels even better about the whole thing.
... ... ...
He sits next to her in glee, moves his chair a little closer and thinks he's being subtle about it, but he's really, really not. She sees Rachel whisper something to Finn, then him turn around and look at them and Rachel hisses something at him and he snaps his eyes to the front of the room. Quinn rolls her eyes, and Sam goes to put his arm around her chair, but she looks at him and he pulls it away.
She shouldn't be sad about it.
"Hey," he says quietly, so no one else can hear. She knows it doesn't matter, because everyone will just gossip and speculate anyway. "What do you want to do with that free dinner?"
She laughs a little and turns to him. "Is this your way of asking me on another date? Because you're going to have to try a little harder than that."
Mr. Schuester comes in and they start rehearsal, and she's paired with Sam for choreography. He stops singing at one point during the last chorus of the song and, hand on her waist, whispers in her ear.
"Would you like to go on a date with me?"
She keeps singing, even though it's really difficult, and nods her head. After rehearsal, he tells her he'll pick her up at 7:00 on Saturday night.
She ignores everyone looking at them, watches him walk away, and bites the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling too widely when he turns around and looks at her.
... ... ...
She wears a blue dress and a white sweater and leaves her hair down, and when she opens the door when he rings the bell, he just stares at her for a minute. She's used to being stared at, but this is...it's different. He's not staring because she's pregnant, or because she's head cheerleader or because her skirt is short.
"Whoa," he says as a smile breaks on his lips. "Pretty."
She might be blushing and she doesn't even care.
"Thank you." She pulls the door closed behind her and walks with him down the driveway to his car.
"So, I've got an idea for this date," he tells her, and she starts laughing immediately.
"I'm starting to feel like you're just making me keep this gift certificate so I'll keep going out with you," she says, stomach fluttering as he pulls open the car door for her. She stands in front of him and looks at him before getting in.
"Maybe I am," he tells her.
She bows her head and plays with the strap of her purse. "I don't think you have to," she admits quietly.
He takes her for hot dogs at the driving range, buys her a hot chocolate when she shivers, and teaches her how to hit a golf ball more than ten feet in front of her.
It's probably the best date she's ever been on.
... ... ...
She hears about it before she sees him, and she's pissed at Puck because he's a complete jerk and he just doesn't understand that she'll never want to be with him and what they had was mostly a mistake, even if something kind of amazing came out of it.
She finds Sam before he heads into the nurse's office, and he gives her a lopsided grin, favouring the side of his face that's red, swelling, and about to bruise.
"What did he do?" she asks angrily as soon as he's inside the nurse's room with the door closed. She doesn't care if she misses Spanish. Mr. Schuester will understand, and if he doesn't Coach Sylvester will get her a pardon.
"Just a punch. And maybe told me he'd break my fingers and then he'd fucking punch me again once I was defenseless," he says. She stares at him. "That's a quote. I don't like swearing."
He sits down on the little bed in the room and she wheels the chair over so she can sit in front of him. "I'm sorry," she says quietly, looking down at his shoes. They're freakishly clean.
"Not your fault."
"I'm dating you."
He smiles, then winces and touches his eye with his hand. "Well, yeah."
She realizes neither of them has said it out loud until just now.
"I'll talk to him," she says. He doesn't look entirely impressed, but she can tell he's trying to hide it. "He'll listen to me, or I'll destroy him."
(Maybe she already has.)
He laughs and shakes his head, then Mr. Schuester comes in with a bag of ice and starts talking, and Quinn gets up and walks away, skirt swinging as she goes off to find her idiot of an ex-whatever.
She grabs onto his shirt when she finds him outside leaning against the chain fence beside the bleachers. She tells him that he's an idiot and he's messed with her enough, and if he hadn't gotten the message over the summer when she didn't take even one of his calls, if he wants a girlfriend he should look elsewhere, because she's just not interested.
She leaves him there, doesn't even flinch when she hears him kick the fence.
... ... ...
Sam invites her to his house, promises his mom's home so they won't be alone.
She says no.
"Okay. Let me down quick and painful."
She smiles, puts her hand on his shoulder as he stands in front of her. "I just...This whole thing needs to be slow," she explains, voice quiet so no one else will hear. "I really like spending time with you. The slow thing is really working for me right now."
He doesn't get mad, doesn't call her a prude or tell her she's teasing him, or do any of the other things most boys would do. He just smiles and takes her books from her and pushes his hair out of his face.
"How do you feel about mini-golf?" he asks as they start down the hall.
"What is it with you and golf?" she laughs, shaking her head.
He grins at her and waits until they pass a group of Cheerios before answering. "Good excuse to touch you when I'm showing you how to do it. I'm sneaky that way."
He winks at her, passes back her books, and tells her he'll see her later.
She doesn't have the heart to tell him that her dad took she and her sister mini-golfing every second Saturday when they were kids.
(Not telling him has nothing to do with the fact that she's still not really over that whole thing with her dad.)
... ... ...
He reaches for her hand on the way home after she beats him in mini-golf (she knows he didn't even 'let' her; she's just that good). Her hand is sitting on her thigh and he reaches over and curls his fingers around her palm.
His fingers are cold and calloused and unfamiliar, and that's exactly what she loves about them.
"Fine?" He grins, looks over at her momentarily.
She slips her fingers between his and rubs his thumb with hers a couple times. "I like it."
... ... ...
His older brother is home from college, and he picks Sam up from glee rehearsal one day. She and Sam are in the parking lot, talking about their weekends and making plans, sort of. He's just told her he'll call her, thumb sliding over the inside of her wrist, when a brand new pickup truck pulls up and a guy with short, dirty blonde hair (she thinks that's what Sam's probably looked like before the lemon juice) and intense blue eyes hangs his arm out the window.
Sam looks at Quinn like he wants to apologize. She just holds her head up confidently. She's good with boys. She can handle boys. This one is 20 (Sam has told her all about his family, and vice versa, though she suspects her story was harder to tell) and looking her up and down. She puts her hand on her hip and rests her weight on one leg. That's when she realizes Sam's hand is still loosely around her wrist. She likes it there. A lot.
"Yeah, Nate, this is Quinn," Sam says, looking over at his brother.
It takes her a moment to realize Nathan is talking to her. "I can't. I have homework."
Sam steps in front of her and blocks her from his brother's view. "Hey, I'll call you tomorrow." He squeezes her hand before he lets it go, and, not caring that his older brother is sitting right there listening to everything, says, "don't forget about me or something crazy, alright?"
She rolls her eyes dramatically and shakes her head, but he's just adorable, so she says, "alright," and smiles back at him before she gets into her car.
... ... ...
He texts her later that evening, tells her his brother won't shut up about her and he hopes she's not easily lured away.
She knows he doesn't mean anything by it, but it just makes her think of last year and two boys and not being strong or smart enough to say no when she should have.
She texts him back anyway (I think you're safe) because he deserves a response and she knows it's the truth anyway.
... ... ...
They walk together in the halls, and she knows he's not a big fan of public displays of affection, and this is kind of nice, everyone knowing they're dating but not seeing that. She likes the secret they're keeping, likes knowing what they have is just between them.
And it's good. The nice thing about it is that they talk about things, about a lot of things. He's told her about the all boys school he attended, and she's told him about summers at cheer camp when she was younger, and sleeping in a bunk above Brittany and Santana and exactly what that entailed, and he didn't even do that stupid boy thing where he asked for details or Polaroids. He actually sympathized.
He's not like any boy she knows, and she is so glad about that.
Finn asks her about it one day, how things are going. He smiles when she says things are, "good," and changes the subject, asks how things are with he and Rachel.
He gives her this little grin and says, "good," and Finn Hudson? Really not dumb, because she knows what he's doing.
She's not in love with Sam like Finn's in love with Rachel, but...
Well, things are good.
... ... ...
Sam walks her to her door at the end of their fifth date, and even though she said she wanted to take things slow, it's been over a month or something like that and she has yet to be kissed. Slow is one thing, but this pace is practically glacial, and she's starting to feel like if he doesn't kiss her soon, she's going to go crazy.
And he looks so, so hot tonight, in his jeans and plain white button down shirt, and he's got his hand at the small of her back as she puts her key in the lock. She gets up the nerve to ask what she's wanted to ask for at least a week.
"Why haven't you kissed me yet?"
He smiles and looks to the ground, then back up at her. "I promised you I wouldn't." She sighs and tilts her head at him. She can't be mad, though, because she loves that he doesn't break his promises, doesn't lie and doesn't say or do anything he doesn't mean. "But if you want..."
"You're supposed to ask me," she says, and it's mostly teasing because she's not all about romance and tradition, despite what some people want to believe.
But really, how romantic would it be if he did ask?
"Can I kiss you?" he asks, and he's totally looking at her lips, even as he plays with her hair, rubs it between his fingers.
"I don't know," she answers. "Can you?"
"Quinn," he laughs quietly.
"Yeah," she says before he can say anything else. "Kiss me."
She wants to say she remembers it, and maybe she does, but everything about it is just so, so amazing that she it's hard to focus on any of the distinguishing factors. She can feel his hand on her face, the other on her waist, and she can smell him, too. He doesn't wear cheap cologne. She doesn't know what he wears; she likes not knowing. He doesn't try to pry her lips apart with his tongue or touch her inappropriately, and she thinks maybe he already knows her really, really well.
He rests his forehead against hers after, eyes still closed, and runs his thumb back and forth over her side. He's not saying anything and it makes her nervous when he takes his hand off her face.
"Sam," she whispers, likes the way his name feels on her tongue, and he presses his lips to hers again, just once.
"You can do that whenever you want," she tells him. He probably doesn't need her permission, but she's going to give it just in case.
"Good," he tells her, smiling a bit and pulling away an inch or two. "I probably will."
She wants him to promise it but she bites back the words, says goodnight and goes inside instead.
... ... ...
They start making out pretty regularly. The nice thing is they still go 'out', too. She meets his parents and his younger (by only two years) sister, and he meets her mother and has dinner at the house once. It's not like it's just about the kissing.
But she does like the kissing. A lot.
They're on the couch in his room one afternoon after glee lets out, and his mom is in the kitchen making dinner. Quinn's staying for the first time. There's also an open door policy in this house that she very much approves of. Her knees are touching his and his hand is on her back and she's running hers through the hair at the back of his neck as they make out, and she realizes, when he slides his hand down so it's almost on her butt, that she hasn't told him something very, very important.
"Wait," she says, pulling away, almost gasping for breath. God, he's a good kisser. "Wait."
He's concerned, not annoyed, and she honestly thinks she could fall in love with him.
"Nothing." He doesn't believe her, she can tell. "Okay, something. I just...You know I'm..."
"Quinn," he says, and just that, him saying her name, calms her.
"I'm not going to have sex with you," she states seriously, eyes locked with his.
He furrows his brow, laughs softly. "I didn't ask you to," he says slowly, like he thinks he's missed something. Maybe he has.
"Just because I'm the girl who had a baby last year...I don't want you to expect..."
"I don't," he says, cutting her off. He sounds kind of annoyed, short with her. She doesn't like it, but this conversation is important, even if it's hard for both of them.
"I'm sorry. I just want to wait," she says, and it's confident, because she's strong enough to say it out loud, and she won't be easily talked out of that commitment. "Until I'm married."
He doesn't even flinch.
"Alright," he says, and he's so accepting of it that it scares the heck out of her. "I can respect that."
She doesn't doubt that he can. He's the boy who waited over a month to even kiss her. But it seems like he knows her entire sexual history, and she knows nothing of his. Even if they're not going to be together that way, she thinks she needs to know.
"Have you ever...with anyone?" she asks quietly, and she's more nervous about his answer than she is about him knowing everything about her past.
He shrugs like it's not a big deal. "No." She looks at him. How is that possible? He's...he's almost perfect. (Well, not really, and she knows that, but she likes to think he's really, really close.) "I didn't want to just...I guess I'm waiting, too. For the right girl, you know?"
She leans over and kisses him, and he laughs against her mouth.
She had no idea that was exactly what she wanted to hear until he said it. She knows it doesn't mean he won't want to eventually sleep with her, or that he won't eventually get frustrated with her for wanting to wait, but it's nice to know he's not know for sleeping with anything that moves, or that he didn't just give his virginity away to the first person who offered to take it.
"I like you," she whispers. "A lot."
He plays with the ends of her hair and nods. "I really like you, too."
... ... ...
The next day they're in the choir room after a brief lunch-time meeting, and he's looking at her like he's trying to figure something out. She laughs, puts her books on her lap and asks him what on earth he's thinking about.
"Why are you mean to Rachel?" he asks, shrugging his shoulder like he's trying to make it less of a huge deal that he's asking a question about this.
"Who else am I going to be mean to?" she counters, brow raised.
He smiles at her, narrows his eyes and turns his head a little, and she thinks she knows what he's going to say, but he says it anyway. "You could just not be mean to anyone."
She glares, gets up and looks down at him as he looks up at her. "I don't like you."
His laughter follows her out of the room.
... ... ...
Coach Bieste gives Finn a night of rest and Sam goes in as starting quarterback. It's like last year all over again, only the team is good and her feelings for Sam are way stronger than they ever were for Finn (which is scary, because she thought she was in love with him). She watches Sam drops his helmet onto his head, Finn and even Puck swat his behind as he runs onto the field.
The first pass he throws is taken to the end zone, and her heart races as she shakes her pompoms and cheers and shouts his name from the sidelines.
He ends the game with three touchdown passes and Puck completely on his good side (one of those passes was to Puck), and he walks over to her like it's no big deal that he just dominated the game and sealed the win.
"Sam!" she shouts when he's close enough. He smiles at her and she runs over to him, throws her arms around him. "You're actually good!"
He laughs into her hair as he holds onto her. "You thought I was faking it?"
"I don't know," she giggles. He slides his hands across her back so they rest on her hips, and all she wants to do right now is kiss him. A lot. "Do we have to go to the party?"
She bites her lip for good measure, and she doesn't feel bad doing things like this when she's already told him they don't mean what any other boy would assume they mean.
"For a bit, probably," he tells her. "Not long."
They make the rounds at the party and she holds his hand when she thinks she wants to leave, and they make out in her room for a while until he has to leave to make curfew. Her hair is a mess and it's late and her mom is constantly trying to get the gossip about this relationship, but Quinn doesn't even care.
... ... ...
They have a huge fight.
She sees Santana flirting with him one day. He tries to tell her that's not what was going on, but she knows Santana too well, and she explains that yeah, that's definitely what was going on, because Santana will screw anyone with legs. Especially the guy who happens to be someone Quinn is, was, or might ever be involved with.
He tells her she's overreacting. She doesn't appreciate it. They spend the rest of the next two days not talking. She doesn't know if they're breaking up over this, but if they are, it seems really stupid.
Then Rachel gets up and sings some song about forgiveness, and Quinn feels him put his arm around her chair and run his thumb over her back a little, and she's mad at herself for kind of being over it.
"Look, I don't wanna fight anymore," he says after rehearsal, in the room with the entire glee club, including Santana and Mr. Schuester. "It's stupid." She doesn't say anything. She's kind of annoyed that he's doing this here and now. "If I wanted to be with someone else, I wouldn't be with you."
"Sam, not here," she says quietly. She walks past him to leave and he reaches for her elbow. Both Finn and Puck instinctively start paying more attention. The thing with Sam is that she honestly doesn't think he'd ever hurt her on purpose. He's not hurting her now, just has his hand on her arm.
He catches her off guard and kisses her for the first time in two days, right there in front of everyone. No one at school has ever really seen them kiss before, because they both want this thing to just be about them, not status or popularity or being better than anyone else. She says his name after, and she tries to look past him at everyone else, but when he opens his eyes, she really can't.
"Quinn, come on," he says, and it's like he's telling her there's no one in the world he wants but her and she's stupid for thinking otherwise.
The thing is, this is what she's wanted from a boy forever, so why is it freaking her out now? She sighs and looks to her feet and vaguely registers some people leaving the room. Puck, Finn and Rachel stay behind. She doesn't know why. The fact that they're eavesdropping is making her really, really uncomfortable.
"Can we go somewhere else?" she asks quietly. He's holding her hand now and she's not totally sure when that happened. "I just don't want an audience."
He doesn't get insecure and ask her if they're breaking up, or tell her he needs to know what's going on right now. She wonders if the other two boys in the room realize yet just how different this one is.
She pulls him from the room by his hand because she just doesn't really want to let it go.
He follows her to her house and they manage to get past her mom without being asked a million questions about their days, and when they're in her room, she sits on the bed and tucks her hands beneath her thighs as he shifts his weight and looks at her.
"It's just that I know how easy it can be to cheat," she blurts out before she can stop herself.
"I'm not like that."
Her eyes meet his and she wonders if she's looking for a fight. "You mean like me."
Maybe she is.
"Don't," he sighs, shaking his head at her. "Don't play that game. I didn't say that." She sighs in frustration (with herself) and he sits next to her. "Is this about us? Or you?"
"Or Santana?" she says, and she sounds bitchy because she thinks he should probably know her insecurities by now, even if she never really talks about them. "She takes everyone. Finn, Puck..."
"I'm not them, Quinn," he says seriously.
"I know," she whispers. "I just...really like this. Us. And you."
"Yeah." His hand slides along her shoulders. "Me, too."
"I'm sorry I keep freaking out."
He laughs quietly and leans over to kiss her cheek. "It's cute." She looks at him doubtfully. "I like this girl. The one who isn't perfect all the time."
"I'm never perfect," she says, shaking her head.
He leans in and kisses her once, gently.
"Never say never."
... ... ...
She doesn't know how this happened, exactly. One minute they're watching a movie on the couch in his room, the next, he's half on top of her and his shirt is on the floor.
She maybe just really, really wanted to see him with his shirt off.
The nice thing is that he already knows where she stands on the sex issue, and they've talked about it enough that he knows she's not changing her mind. He's never asked her to or implied that she should. It makes all this a little more comfortable, because she knows he's not going to think this is going further than it is.
She doesn't know how far it's going to go.
She's not a total prude. He's touched her before, above the waist (over the shirt, or under the shirt but over the bra). She likes it. He's got really good hands, and he's gentle and sweet and he's never done anything without her clearly indicating she wanted him to. It's nice to be with a boy who gives more than he takes.
But he's unbuttoning her blouse, and she likes it, and his hand grazes her breast as he kisses her neck. Her hands slide up his back and she gasps a little and tenses when his hand touches her bare stomach. She loves him a little for pulling away.
"I had a baby," she says quietly, eyes locked with his. He looks confused. It's adorable, but she doesn't want to have to explain everything, and it'd be great if he'd just get it. "My body is...there's..."
"Your body's hot," he insists, smiling down at her. She knows he thinks so, but he's never seen her with her shirt off.
"I have stretch marks. And my hips are..." He slides his hand over the pocket of her jeans, and he's basically telling her he doesn't care about any of this. She feels a little silly for being so self-conscious about it. "Sam."
"You're beautiful," he says, looking right at her as he peels away one side of her shirt, then the other. He doesn't even look down once she's practically half naked. "It's a little intimidating, really." She giggles and he runs his hand up her body, then his thumb brushes against the underside of her breast through the cotton of her bra. He still hasn't even glanced at her body. "But I think we look pretty good together."
She giggles a little and tries not to hate herself for it. "It's the blonde thing."
"Shut up," he laughs. He's been complaining for a while about how to go back to his natural colour without admitting he's not really that blonde. Last week she helped him lighten his hair again. "You love it."
He pushes his hand up so it's covering her breast, and she debates pulling him closer or pushing him away so she can let her shirt fall down her arms and off her body completely. She pulls him closer, and she's almost positive that'll always be her instinct with him.
"I do," she says right before she kisses him.
... ... ...
For Christmas, he gets her a charm for her necklace. It reads Lucky in pretty silver cursive, and she slips it onto the chain so it's there beside her cross.
She thinks she's in love with him.
... ... ...
(She frames that gift certificate they've never used, gives it to him wrapped in holiday paper, and he laughs when he opens it and tells her how awesome she is for doing it. He hangs it on his wall and kisses her over and over again while his family waits for him to get into the car to leave and visit relatives upstate.)
... ... ...
She spends the whole week he's gone zipping that charm along her chain and thinking about him and wondering how she should go about telling him that he's basically got her whole heart in the palm of his hand.
She knows he understands just how delicate it is.
She doesn't want to love him, really. She's young and in relative terms they barely know one another, but she just can't help it, and she's not going to try. It's nice, caring about him so much, missing him, and the excitement of hearing from him while he's away.
She just hopes he's thinking and feeling all the same things, or she doesn't really know what to do.
... ... ...
If she'd known being nice to Rachel would mean going on a double date with she and Finn, Quinn isn't so sure she would have done it. But Sam's all super-moral and nice to everyone, and she loves that about him, and actually, having Rachel on her side has been really, really great. They definitely don't braid each other's hair or anything, but they can talk without Quinn wanting to spew insults for no reason, so that's kind of a bonus.
Maybe it's just that she no longer feels Rachel 'stole' anyone or anything from her. Even though she didn't want Finn anymore, she still kind of felt like Rachel was taking him away. Now that she has Sam, she doesn't really care who or what Finn does.
It's just that this is Sam's second day back from his trip and they only spent a few hours together the day before. She doesn't necessarily love that she's spending her time with him and two other people, but she's being nice because even she can admit that it's better than being mean. Easier, too.
Plus, his arm is draped loosely around the back of the booth they're sitting in at the bowling alley, and Finn's really excited (he's so funny when he gets like this) that they're all together, and they're all playfully making fun of Rachel for being a terrible bowler.
Sam steals a sip of her strawberry milkshake, kisses her cheek when she glares at him a little. Rachel sighs audibly and tucks her hands beneath her chin as she watches.
"What?" Quinn asks. It was hard not to bark that out like she would have a few months ago.
"You two are definitely the second most perfect couple at school," Rachel states. Sam laughs a little and Quinn can see him blushing from the corner of her eye. "Second to Finn and I, of course."
"Whatever you have to tell yourself," Quinn says, but she's smiling as she looks at Rachel, and really?
Not the worst night she's ever had.
... ... ...
They fall asleep on her bed one Sunday afternoon in January. He was over so they could do homework, since they have three classes together this semester, and when they finished, they laid down and started talking, and eventually they just drifted off.
It's nearly dinner time when they wake up, and when her eyes open he's just looking at her with this sleepy expression on his face that she immediately falls in love with. His hand is on her waist over her shirt and his hair is falling in his eyes a little bit, so she pushes it away gently with her fingertips.
"Hey," he says, voice deep and full of sleep.
"Your eyes are grey," she tells him. Not that she's just noticed it now, but she's never...Whatever. She's tired and he's just staring at her, and she thought it was worth mentioning.
"Yours are green," he says. She smiles, plays with his hair above his ear. "I love you."
She closes her eyes and presses her forehead against his. It's the first time he's said it, and not that she really doubted it, but it just proves that she loves him, too, because this crazy thing happens to her heart and she's never felt it before, and she feels like she either wants to scream or cry. She doesn't plan on doing either.
"I love you, too," she says.
She realizes no one's ever said it to her first, not really, and she doesn't think they ever meant it anyway.
He sighs, smiles, and says something that makes her cheeks turn pink as he tangles his legs together with hers.