Sam seemed to take a moment to understand her joke. He then thought back to Deiliha's dance partner, the man he'd stolen and made out with. "Someone sounds jealous," he said pouting. Sam gently nudged her. "Imagine that, an angel locking lips with the devil himself. We're both heaven drop-outs, I think we were made for each other. Maybe we... we do have some chemistry after all--!"
He colored when she called him Sammy, though he couldn't guess why. Sam turned away, not liking the heat under his skin. "I'm having fun too," he said slowly, thinking over his words. Deiliha mentioned leaving, even called him darling. He turned to look at her, but it seemed as if he were looking past her. "It's time to go?" he said. His voice was soft, sad. "Oh no it isn't."
His mind wandered to just moments before, to her jealousy, or what a drunken Sam assumed was jealousy, at his having kissed someone else. She was giving him pet names and using an alluring tone. She wanted him, he could tell, and Sam couldn't remember why he was holding back. Throwing caution to the wind, he grabbed her and tipped her. He pressed his lips to her sloppily, passionately. He moaned the tiniest bit, giving himself to this kiss.
Sam didn't know why he did it. Maybe it was to prove that he could, both to himself and to Deiliha. Maybe it was just for fun. Maybe this was the best way he could think to taint his no longer purified record. Whatever his reasoning had been initially, Sam threw that aside too, and he kissed her because he meant it. Because, demon or not, this woman had been the only one to be kind to him at all since he'd been thrown out of his home. This was the woman he wanted to show his appreciation to.
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