Sam had met you back in Chicago 3 years ago at a bar when you both were on hunts. You guys hit it off.

Now, Sam was back 3 years later, and you happen to be there. He didn’t want to rush up to you and be embarrassed if you didn’t remember him. But that’s when he saw it.

You strut over to a barstool, sitting down. Your jeans doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact that you were wearing the lacy black pair, with little bows that he had picked out for you before he left.