Author: Me (glittergron)
Type: Genderswap, femslash.
Summary: Blair hadn’t said she loved Sam in years. Every time she tried to, it sounded far too intense and transparent. Yes, she loved her. Painfully so, to the point of obsession.
Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 |
Author's Note: As always, this is for Gabbie. Since we are probably the only two people in the entire Glee fandom that ships this...
Blair woke first, woke with Sam’s arm slung lazily over her waist as she slept. Her heart clenched tightly in her chest, and taking a breath was an impossible feat. This was what she wanted. To be held by Sam, but last night hadn’t been her dream or her fantasy. She’d balked like a frightened animal and had shown Sam how cowardly she really was.
She knew that kissing her was a mistake, no matter how right it may have felt. Sam was not gay. Blair didn’t even know for sure if she was, either. Confusion had been her one constant lately, ever-present amidst her other rocking emotions.
With a sad frown, Blair shifted slightly to turn and look at her friend’s face. She was still sleeping, her breathing slow and even, and her arm was limp across Blair, fingers gently clasping the hem of her shirt. They’d fallen asleep late last night, not anywhere near being this intimate. Blair had made sure of that.
It was easy and devilishly tempting to crumble into Sam when she hugged her, but despite the amount of times Sam said it was okay, Blair couldn’t forgive herself. She could’ve handled loving Sam quietly and secretly. It was safer for her that way. No risk of losing her. And Blair, at this point, had to value Sam as a friend more than anything.
If she left her, scared and angry, Sam would have no one to reach out to. Her parents loved her; her mother worked hard to support her, and her dad spoiled her when she visited him for vacations. But they were distant to Blair in a way Sam wasn’t. The blonde had curled herself tight around Blair’s heart to a degree where it would’ve been like losing a part of herself if Sam turned away from her.
Rather than stay and lie there with the press of Sam behind her, Blair gently slid out from under Sam’s arm and eased off the bed. When she was clear of any traitorous creaking springs, Blair faced Sam and watched her sleep for a long moment, aching to return to where she’d been.
Crushing her desperate want to clutch onto Sam like the one rock in all the seas, Blair swooped and picked up her bag from the floor. Where Sam had let it drop last night. She’d almost been home-free then, but Sam was too cruel in her kindness and hadn’t let her go.
Now she tiptoed from Sam’s bedroom, the one she’d known inside out since she was a kid and didn’t think about complicated things like her sexuality. Sam’s mom and dad worked full-time now that Stacey and Stevie were old enough for daycare, so the house was empty. Blissfully.
Blair walked out the front door and paused on the porch step to breathe air that didn’t smell like Sam. She walked home on shaky leg, the Tennessee summer warm on her face and sweet in her lungs, and once upon a time she might’ve enjoyed the fine weather. But enjoyment was something she felt with Sam, lazing in the pool at Blair’s house and baking in the sun until Sam was burned and peeling, and pouting and laughing because of it.
Without Sam those moments had no meaning. No weight. Or too much weight maybe, because the memories felt like lead. She was lucky that she fell onto her bed and not the sidewalk. She buried her face in her pillow and cried until her eyes were dry and her pillow was soaked.
Blair refused to answer the phone. She was terrified it might be Sam, and she’d committed herself to hiding at home for the rest of the day. Her mom tried to get her to talk, sensing disquiet in her daughter but unsure what to do about it. Blair had forever been a sweet and happy girl; now there was worry in her eyes that had never been there before.
She didn’t talk to her mother when the woman came to sit on the edge of her bed, and at dinner that evening Blair hardly ate and didn’t speak a word. If she opened her mouth it’d all come out, and she didn’t know her mother well enough to trust her with these feelings.
There was a distance between them that night, when Blair realized that it wasn’t just Sam she was afraid of revealing too much to. She shuffled off to bed early, but lay awake thinking for several long hours. It was past midnight when the clatter started, like heavy rain on her window.
Blair sat up, her heart beating hard but slow. Something hit the glass of her window again and she slid out of her bed, across the room, peering tentatively down into her front yard. She almost laughed when she saw Sam, a fistful of pebbles scooped from the walkway in her hand. She was waving.
But after a moment Blair remembered her foolishness. She backed away from the window, out of sight, gnawing on her bottom lip as she thought. What could she do? Ignore her forever? Sam wouldn’t allow it, or at least Blair hoped she wouldn’t.
Sam tossed more pebbles at the window, every one she was holding by the sound it made. Blair cursed softly and opened the window, sticking her head out into the night air.
“What do you want?” she called down to Sam, trying hard to sound annoyed at being woken but her voice was high and querelous.
“I want to talk!” Sam called back. “Let me in, Blair.”
“No,” Blair said impetuously. She heard Sam’s quiet scoff and frowned, wishing the blonde would just turn around and leave. She looked beautiful down there, looking up at her.
“I’m coming around back,” Sam said, disappearing from sight a moment later. Blair grimaced and pulled her fingers tight against her palms, forming fists with her hands to keep from grabbing at her hair. She rushed to her bedroom door, tiptoed down the hallway, and got to the back door just as Sam was hopping over the fence.
She beamed when Blair opened the door, stepping inside without waiting to be invited. “Sam, you shouldn’t be here,” Blair whispered. Sam just looked at her, the two of them standing by the door, Blair’s hand still on the doorknob.
It took one second for Sam to lean forwards, another to hesitate, then a third to gently kiss Blair on the lips. She looked as uncertain as Blair had felt the night before in Sam’s living room, only now it was Blair’s stomach that was lurching with joy and pain. She stood with her lips parted and her jaw slack, words fleeing her mind in the wake of that kiss.
Surprised tears pricked her eyes, stupidly welling up as the rawness of what she felt overcame Blair. Sam noticed, and looked terrified.
“Crap,” she said, backing away until her back was pressed against the wall. “I’m sorry. I didn’t- I thought-”
Blair laughed, nervous giggles slipping from between her lips. Sam looked at her queerly as Blair snickered, palms pressed hard against her eyes to crush her silly tears. It was Sam apologizing now. Not Blair. Last night felt like less of a mistake, and she knew with a rush that kissing Sam hadn’t broken anything.
“You kissed me,” Blair said when she let her hands drop from her face, struggling to control her laughter. From the look on Sam’s face she didn’t seem to pleased with her friend’s amusement.
“You kissed me first,” Sam shot back, sobering Blair enough to force her to breathe and calm down.
“I thought for sure you hated me,” Blair said, barely above a whisper. Sam’s guarded expression melted away into her sweet smile.
“Never,” she promised.