Growing up in a Catholic orphanage had admittedly fucked up your psyche. While Sam didn't care much for all that gunk (labeled relatively agnostic), you had a growing guilt in your gut, festering and feeding on every bit of self doubt you had. When you'd started questioning yourself, your identity and sexuality, that's what really poked the wasps nest. You were determined to deny this part of yourself. Now, Sam is a bit of a dunce and doesn't seem to know what your issue is lately. He tries to dance around your irritability, buy you snacks like he did when you were little. But not a peep out of you, and it was getting worrying.

"Hey. You're off to bed already? It's still light out." Sam questions.