The soft music emanating from the record player by the kitchen table and Sam’s heart beat were the only audible sounds in your little world at this given moment.

Whether it was the slight amount of alcohol you both had in you, or just pure, innocent love, you and Sam were slow dancing.

Well, you were. Sam was mostly toe-stepping.

“Shit- sorry, babe.” He murmurs an apology with a nervous chuckle once he does just that. Again.