DISCLAIMER: Popular is the intellectual property of Ryan Murphy. I simply dabble in his sandbox, make his characters gay for each other and enjoy the turn on that follows.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is for miss_darkmoon, who requested: "Somehow, alone in the alley, she..." Again, another angsty piece, go figure for me, right?
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Alone in the Light
Somehow, alone in the alley, she slinked against the wall bringing her knees to her chest. She'd thought going to the bar, taking a break from the world around her would be enough to dull the gentle ache. But it wasn't. As soon as Brooke stepped into the bar, took a seat in front of the bartender and let the men around her send drinks her way It was too much, and Sam had to do what she did best: Flee.
So, now she sat alone in a slimy alley, leaning against cold brick as the smell of trash wafted her way. She was crying but not making a sound, thinking about
It wasn't until a pair of arms wrapped themselves around her shoulders did she realize somebody had followed her out into the alley. In the dim light, she couldn't quite make out who it was but all she to do was take one whiff of the perfume coming from her and she knew.
"Brooke," Sam barely managed to get out. Brooke rocked her now, gently. "Don't. This isn't the time-"
"-It's the perfect time, Sammy," Brooke just held her, let Sam cry. She'd watch the brunette leave the bar, storm out a more accurate description; so, the blonde left the companion she was chatting up and followed her, finding her broken in the alley. She knew things were strained, they were changed, and Sam kept her distance more and more as the days of summer break went on. "We need to talk."
"No," Sam stuttered, shaking her head slightly. She had to close herself off, keep herself from this, from what she wanted. She'd spent almost seven years in love with the woman now cradling her in a dark alley. Seven years for a dream to come true, it was too unbearable to think it could. Sam McPherson didn't get happily ever afters. She'd spent a life time learning that. "We don't."
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