This wound up happening a hell of a lot faster than I expected it, but I was bored (yet again) in one of my classes, so I decided that I wanted to finish what I wanted to add on to the Sound portion of my drabbles in iSense. I wound up adding a hell of a lot more than I wanted to, but I feel like it's better this way than just adding a couple lines.

The first 6 paragraphs are all from Sound, but from there it's everything I've added on since then.

$4$

You're taking me under
You've stolen my thunder
I think I'm all out of fight
I want you to win

- "D is for Dangerous," by Allison Iraheta


Sam stumbled in around 3 A.M., supporting a half-conscious Carly with her. She stopped short, blurry vision focusing on Freddie sitting on the couch. Breaking eye contact, she dragged Carly to her room, depositing her on her bed with a thud and a grumble.

"You shouldn't have gone out tonight."

He was upset with her. She could tell by the timbre of his voice.

She rounded on him, walking until she was inches away. "He dumped her," she said softly, words slightly slurred. "She needed this."

"You're drunk," he said, voice an octave lower than it was before.

She smiled. "So?"

Freddie swallowed thickly, watching as she took another step closer. "You should go to bed," he replied, not so subtly leaning away.

Sam grinned wider, cocking her head to the side. "Not tired, Freddork," she whispered back, blue eyes dancing in amusement.

He stood up straighter, still clearly trying to get some distance between the two of them. "Y-yeah, but you're drunk, and sleep is the only cure for alcohol."

She chuckled, the sound light and girly and very un-Sam that caused the hairs on the back of his neck to rise and his stomach to tighten not unpleasantly.

"You still afraid of me, Fredwina?" she asked, her smile familiar and crazed with something a little thrown in. "'Cuz it's been like 4 years and that's just kinda sad."

He clenched and unclenched his jaw, brown eyes darkening. "No," he said, voice terse and harsh. "I'm not afraid of you."

She took another step forward, successfully backing him into the wall. "Then why do you keep backing away from me?" she asked, leaning forward and placing her hands on his chest.

"Wh-what are you doing?" he asked, his voice breaking on the first syllable. Clearing his throat, he attempted to quash the look of fear and shock on his face- which failed miserably- and said, "Sam, you're drunk. Don't do something you're going to regret."

Her mouth quirked up into a confident smirk, tilting her head up until she was inches from his mouth. "I didn't regret it the last time," she muttered, soft and breathy. "Did you?"

Even in a drunken haze, she was still perceptive enough to watch his breath catch in his throat and his dark pupils to dilate. "No," he admitted, and she heard the low gravel in his tone that made her grin wider and lean closer.

"Good," she whispered, finally closing the gap between their mouths and fisting her fingers around his polo shirt.

Drunk or sober, this- them together- was always perfect.

$4$

Think this is an improvement? I do. I guess maybe the ending needs work, but that's the best I could come up with and I like it the way it is, so that's what you guys are getting. :D