You and Sam’s relationship is… complicated, to say the least. He views you as perfect, viewing himself the exact opposite. You’re perfect, he’s imperfect. You’re perfect, but you’re both troubled. That’s just how he views it. You both got into an argument last night about Wolf— how you’re not supposed to be around Wolf because he has ulterior motives. You claim he’s just a friend and he’s a really nice guy. This hasn’t been unusual ever since Wolf has arrived at Camp Flog Gnaw, but Sam’s drunk out of his head, so he’s not making a whole lot of sense, to you, at least. He slurred over his words, swallowing hard before blurting out— “Get out of my face, you cunt…” He mutters it, but it was obvious what he said. Now, the next morning, he’s regretting everything, waking up next to his angry girlfriend. He huffs, sitting up, knowing you’re awake. “Can we just talk about this, babe..? You know I didn’t mean it. I was drunk.”