sam evans ( werewolf ) . (tamest) wrote in light_of_may, |
She was right to think of it as empty. Sam might make threats but he could never carry them out with someone he cared about as much as he did Jo. Not only could she take him if it ever came down to that sort of thing -- and of that he was sure, his height had nothing on her willpower -- but she was quite possibly his favourite person in the whole world. All the same he kept on making those threats because it was part of the back and forth that amused them both so much. It was part of their routine, part of them, and Sam wouldn't change that for anything.
That self-satisfied grin had him rolling his eyes but the gesture was quickly followed by a smirk of his own. "I still maintain the pigs started it," he said, shrugging and lifting his arms a little at his sides to emphasise the motion before he reached for some juice. Not once so far had he taken any notice of the scars on his arms -- and there were several, both on his left and on his right, distinct and unmistakable -- or thought them unusual in any way, simply accepting them silently as part of who and what he was. They had always been there, hadn't they? Why make a fuss?
"If you ask me," he said, returning the glass of juice to its place on one of the coasters, because Jo's mother would not thank him for not using one, "this is just revenge for all the trouble they've started." When he said this he picked up a piece of bacon and held it aloft with an expression that was intended to be stern but broke quickly enough into a smile. Sam wasted little time after that in taking a bite of said bacon. "That and it's not our fault they taste so good."