Miles Apart - Sam Kiszka x OC fanfic

CHAPTER 31: HEARTBEATS

"She's going to be okay, you know?" Josh promised, snapping me out of my thoughts as he gently rubbed my back.

"Yeah, but the babies might not be," I quipped, keeping my eyes focused down as I fiddled with my fingers.

"Maybe not, but I know Lilli. She's strong, Bel. She's going to be okay," he reassured, pulling me into his shoulder. 

"I don't know what to do about Sam," I blurted, knowing it was the elephant in the room.

"What'd he do this time?" Josh chuckled, softly rubbing my shoulder.

"Made out with someone else," I whispered as a single tear ran down my face. Josh sighed and pulled me closer to him before softly kissing my temple.

"He's an idiot, Bel. You know that," he huffed.

"Yeah."

"As much as I want to defend him, it gets harder and harder every time he hurts you. It breaks my heart."

"Yeah, me too," I whispered, closing my eyes in the comfort of Josh's embrace, his heartbeat lulling me into a calmer state. He took his jacket and laid it over top of me, softly humming a Joni Mitchell tune as he let me sleep in his arms. 

After a few minutes, Josh had stopped singing and I was uncomfortable in the hardness of the hospital chairs, so I slowly sat up and rubbed my eyes in the harsh light of the waiting room, opening them and turning to face Josh. 

"Hey, you're up," Sam whispered, softly smiling. I twisted my face in confusion and anger, not sure whether to be pissed off or comforted that Sam came.

"Where'd Josh go?" I sighed, gathering my stuff and standing up.

"Why were you all snuggled up with him like that?" Sam snapped, hurt evident in his eyes.

"Because he's a good friend and he knew I needed someone to talk to. Where is he?" I bluntly responded. 

"He's picking up Jake. He told me I was being stupid and I needed to come talk to you, so I guess that's what I'm trying to do," he awkwardly chuckled.

"Well," I said, clearing my throat, "talk to me then."

"Okay... Promise you'll let me finish explaining before you get angry?"

"Sure," I sighed.

"First of all, it was shitty of me not to text you; I know that, and I'm sorry," he started.

"Okay."

"Second of all, the person I made out with- well, let me just show you, okay?"  He questioned. I nodded and he began to pull out his phone, typing in his password and pulling up his camera roll. He turned the screen towards me and pressed play on a video.

"Hi, Bella!" A very drunk Sam and some dude I'd never seen before yelled, "Because I have a feeling you're mad at me for kissing that girl in the audience today, here is my proof that I would rather kiss a man than cheat on you," he screamed above the chaos of the club he was in before turning to the man next to him and making out with him for a good 20 seconds. 

"I love you, Arabella Ashford!" Drunk Sam yelled out before the video stopped. My wide eyes met Sam's embarrassed ones, not a word passing between us before we both broke out into a burst of uncontrollable laughter. 

"You- You couldn't have just started with 'I kissed a dude'?!" I sputtered, still cackling.

"I didn't know how to explain it!" he laughed. We giggled over the situation for about five more minutes before we finally calmed down and fell into each other, clutching our ribs in pain.

"So, you're not mad at me?" Sam whispered, pulling me into him.

"No, Sammy. I was only mad because I felt like you were keeping me in the dark," I explained, "I wouldn't even have been mad if you kissed another girl, as long as you told me about it and the context was understandable."

"Are you giving me a hall pass, Bel?" he smirked, softly punching me in the arm as I scoffed and pushed myself away from him.

"Absolutely not... Unless it's Sydney Sweeny. I'd understand if you wanted to fuck her," I shrugged, sipping my water.

"I don't want to fuck her," he laughed.

"Then who?" I asked as I furrowed my brows, slightly offended that he already knew who his hall pass would be.

"You, obviously," he smiled, gently nudging me. 

I grinned for a moment before rolling my eyes, "bullshit."

"Okay, fine. If I had to choose a hall pass, it would be Zendaya, but the only girl I want to fuck is you," he smiled, pecking my lips.

"Good, 'cause the only boy I want to fuck is you," I responded as I moved off his chest to face him. His eyes shifted from mine suddenly as his hands withdrew from their place on my knees, and his lip met the place between his teeth whilst he softly bit down.

"What is it, Sammy?"

"No, nothing. It's fine, I'm just happy you're not mad anymore," he tried to reassure, though his lip stayed tucked between his teeth the way it did when he was avoiding saying something else.

"Sam," I urged.

"Fine," he groaned, "you and Josh didn't... I dunno... like, do anything in spite of me, right?" he whispered whilst his big brown eyes explored mine.

"No, Sam. We didn't do anything, and we never will again, okay? Just because you and I fight sometimes, it doesn't mean that I'm going to go fuck your brother or anyone else, for that matter."

"Okay," he smiled, "I'm sorry, I just get worried that I'm going to lose you again, and-"

"It's okay, Sammy; I get it. You have me, alright? I'm right here," I interrupted, leaning into him.

"I know," he sighed, "Thank you."

After a few minutes had passed, I looked up to see Sam staring down at me. His eyes full of love, his heartbeat synchronized with mine, and his fingers playing with the bracelets dangling from my wrist; our souls intangible as they danced along to the rhythmic beep of hospital machines and hushed voices.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love yo-"

"Ms. Ashford?" A doctor questioned form behind her clipboard, interrupting a moment I'd been longing for since the tour started.

"Yeah," I sighed, standing up.

"Is that Mr. Kiszka?" The doctor asked, pointing at Sam.

"Uh, sort of," I chuckled, "he's her husband's brother and the godfather of the twins. How's Lilli?"

"She's stable. We stopped the bleeding, and there are still two present heartbeats, bu-"

"So the babies are okay?" I blurted, excitement and relief taking over my body.

"Yes," she sighed, "but Mrs. Dempt is..."

"Is what? Is she okay?" I asked as the doctor trailed off from her sentence. 

"No," she bluntly stated, "she's dying, Ms. Ashford."