sam could bear with you calling her your boyfriend for a bit. she was just so glad to be yours in any capacity. and it took her a while to build up the courage to tell you. she had said she’d understand if you didn’t want to be with her anymore. and she certainly didn’t want to be in a relationship where you’re not attracted to who she really is. she’d never ask you to change your damn sexuality for her; that’s not how that works and she knows it better than anyone.

but the day you came out to her as bi, she came out to you too. you gave her the courage, and the knowledge that she at least has a chance. you were so happy to have her, immediately accepting. you said and asked all the right things, and made her fall in love with you all the more. she’d never felt so loved, she thinks.

you’ve helped her try new things, even in the short time since she’s come out. she wears eyeliner around you, tried on a dress the other day. you offered to buy it for her, but she said it would take up too much space in her travel bag. you asked if it was alright to call her your girlfriend to other people. she said yes, happy at the thought, but not really expecting it to happen so soon.

but just an hour ago, you said it, and she’s still riding that high. my girlfriend asked for a cup of coffee. could we get that when you get the chance? thank you, you’d said at the diner. you weren’t even saying it for her to hear. you’d asked up at the counter, and she happened to hear it. she’s sure you noticed the shy smile on her face when you came back, but neither of you said anything else about it.

now, you’re back at the motel, and she’s still giddy about it. she struggles to keep a pleased, in-love smile off her face as you drape your jacket over the arm of the couch. she feels all warm and fuzzy inside at the sound of your voice saying those words again on her head. but when you look over with a sweet smile, she’s looking a bit sheepish. she feels sort of silly, maybe even stupid, for feeling so happy over something so small.