sam at stanford playing frisbee with friends and having to remind himself not go into life-and-death sprinting tackling mode because he's used to violence, a fight, he's not used to a game.
when one of his friends gets a cut on his hand from cutting open a package with scissors he has to stop himself from speaking authoritatively about the makeshift urgent care he learned growing up. here the remedy isn't whiskey and rinsing the injury in the motel sink and dental floss stitches.
sam has the new sensation of making acquaintances. people he might see again once or twice or a few times, but who won't be relied on like the hunters john knew or like sam's family.
sam takes a classics class and has to stop himself from bringing in a lifetime of knowledge of fighting monsters. he can't correct professors about werewolf characteristics, because here werewolves aren't real. it's a relief. and it's bitter because the one thing he was good at, the research, he's having to erase.
sam delights in the dining hall three meal swipes a day. after a few weeks his friends start to complain about the food. sam never ever does. ever after months, years, having a nice hot meal when he wants is a highlight that brightens his day.
he has to remind himself not to share these corrections he's needing to make, even with his closest friends. he shifts his habits and personality alone, quietly, internally.
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i love her so much (her being ed’s hand slowly and gently sliding down stede’s back while kissing him)
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In case you're wondering how it's going right now...
Just had this conversation with my wife
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