(the carrot thing was inspired by the movie No Strings Attached, just so you're aware. My sister and I thought that Sammy would do something like it, and this erupted from that thought).


Sammy would be lying if he said he wasn't anxious; his hands were clammy, his mind racing, and he could not stop walking aimlessly around his room. He fiddled with the sheets of his bed, cleaned off his desk, and twiddled his thumbs. It was a good thing that Christian was not there, he noted, because he didn't need to be teased in that moment. There was already enough on his mind.

It was early evening, and outside he could just see the beginnings of the sunset creeping along. He'd done everything he needed, but checking his watch he realized that he was still too early to leave. Sammy sat and ran his hands through his hair again. He was trying desperately not to let the nerves get to him.

He and Abigail had (finally) gone public a week before, and he'd asked her for what seemed like the hundredth time to take her on a proper date. She 'didn't do feelings,' sp he was genuinely surprised when she'd agreed. Overall, he noticed that she'd been surprising him a lot lately.

He left earlier to give himself time to walk to her room and still showed up early. Not knowing what to do he stood silently next to her door, not wanting to seem too eager. He waited impatiently for his watch to strike 5:30.

He knocked on her door at 5:28.

Abigail opened the door and he tried not to stare. He'd told her to wear something dressy yet casual, and while he felt strange in his khakis and button-down shirt she brilliantly fit his description for the evening. Her dress was a soft pink, bringing out the natural blush in her cheeks as well as the added color that appeared upon seeing him. She wasn't completely overdone, she was simply Abigail. This was the way he loved her most.

"Are you ready?" She asked teasingly, and he realized that perhaps he had been staring after all. He sputters, pulling his hand from behind his back.

"These are for you."

"…carrots?" Abigail quirks her eyebrow at him in question, wondering how he'd been managing to carry them as a bouquet.

"Yeah," He rubs the back of his neck with his other hand, suddenly feeling his nerves intensify even further. "They reminded me of you because they were healthy."

"Flowers would have been nice…" She crosses her arms and rolls her eyes at the carrots. Sammy puts his head in his hand.

"I'm sorry, I should have thought about that."

She shakes her head and lets a soft smile appear on her face, making her display the tiny, barely there dimple he admires so much. She takes hold of his hand, pulling the carrots from his other.

"Lieberman…you're such a dork."

He grins back at her, relieved, and the two make their way down the hall hand in hand, Abigail still clutching the carrots. He seemed to remember her love for the vegetable. Such a small detail, she marveled, and yet Sammy knew it well.

They arrive at a small restaurant right on the harbor, and when they're seated he pulls her chair out for her. The evil side of her, the defensive brick wall of a conscience, thinks up a snide remark. Before it can be voiced, however, she feels herself giving him a warm smile before pecking his cheek and thanking him. He sits down across from her, fumbling with the buttons of his jacket. She giggles in spite of herself, a foreign sort of noise.

"Nervous?" She asks playfully, watching him from across the table. He scoffs, finally managing to unhook the last button.

"Me? No, never."

"I am too." She hadn't meant to say this; it made her seem vulnerable, weak. She could not hear the bees, her normal nerve indicator, but that was when she danced, a painful kind of nervous. Maybe tonight, with Sammy, she'd found a good kind of nerves.

They talked while they are breadsticks, breaking the last one in two so that they could share it. Chatter continued while they ate their main course, although neither of the two could fully remember each individual piece of conversation they had. Their speech flitted naturally between topics, unguided even by the prompts Sammy had prepared the night before
(his nerves had really gotten to him then). For some reason, it seemed, they just fit.

He paid for their meals and they left, fingers interlaced as they walked back to their dorms along the harbor. It wasn't a long walk, but was further off than they'd imagined. The sun was finished setting, and the stars tried hard to outshine the street lights and illuminated windows of the buildings they passed. Abigail swung their hands, carefree, and made sure that she was still clutching the carrots. Her gift had truly grown on her.

He began to slow his pace and she matched it, neither wanting the night to be over just yet. Sammy pointed out some of the brighter stars to Abigail and she listened to him explain things to her, always amazed by his broad array of knowledge. She liked it when he talked intelligently because it never felt like he was lecturing her, as many others did. She listened to the rise and fall of his inflected voice, soothed with her neck craned to view the stars with him.

When they arrived back to their dorms, he walked her to hers first. They stood outside of her door to say their last goodbyes, and as any great story goes he kissed her goodnight, hesitantly leaving so that he would not break curfew. Sammy was grinning, internally throwing himself a party. He'd been chasing after her all year, this was the summation of what he'd been waiting for and it was better than anything he'd ever imagined. Abigail stayed outside a bit longer, watching him retreat down the hallway before moving to her room with bliss in her heart and her gift in her hands.

Like their relationship, the gift quirky. She was expecting flowers, and got carrots. She'd never been expecting anybody, and then there Sammy was. She'd begun to think that he'd planned it all along, this strange gesture. She placed them on her desk, promising herself to get a vase (could she put carrots in a vase?) to display them before they were eaten. Tucked into her duvet and full of these blissful thoughts, the feeling of his kiss goodnight lingered on her lips. Abigail slept considerably better than she had in a long time.