Imagine: Having horrible depression and Sam catching you crying in the library
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I sat at the table, it was well after midnight. Tears streamed down my face once again, but I still had no idea why. I was just sad for no reason, and because of that, I cry every night while I'm researching. Footsteps from the library entrance scared me. I looked over with puffy eyes, and sniffled.
"Y/N?" Sam asked, exhaustion in his voice as he came over to me. "What's going on?"
"Sorry," I said, wiping my cherry face. "Bad timing."
"What's wrong?" He said, sitting next to me.
I thought of an answer, and I got emotional again. My lip quivered as I looked down at the table. I rested my forehead against my palm and closed my eyes.
"I don't know," I said, voice breaking. "It just hurts, you know? But I don't know why, and that's what hurts most."
I broke down in front of Sam, not able to say anything else. I tried holding the tears back.
"Come here," He whispered, pulling me toward his chest for a hug. "We can fix this, ok? All you gotta do is fight. It's ok."
I sobbed against his shirt as he soothed my hair. And he never left my side, no matter what.