^{IT  WAS  BOUND  TO  HAPPEN,  SOONER  OR  LATER.   his discomfort with the setting is too obvious, he sticks out no matter how badly he attempts to hide it. he doesn’t  QUITE  startle at the other’s approach, but he does manage something akin to surprise.     ❝     well… looks like we were the unlucky ones, right ?       ❞       he stammers out, nervously chuckling afterwards. then, there was an unsettling silence        one that caused his skin to break out in goosebumps from the restless energy he could feel humming just beneath his skin, from not just the nervousness, but the embarrassment he felt. he was sure that becky knew that he couldn’t win every single match       she wasn’t delusional, but still, it seemed like sami was going nowhere. he isn’t making any progress, he’s STUCK. however, for becky, she could easily get up off the ground and wipe the dust off of her and climb to the top of the mountain quickly, in his mind, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit JEALOUS of that.     ❝      i-i’m sorry, becks…     ❞      he finally managed, after a good few seconds of opening and closing his mouth like a fish.}

                            ^{and without thinking,  a fist is brought to the wall in a loud    BANG !     ❝      I KNOW I KEEP SAYING I WILL WIN, I WILL DO SOMETHING MEMORABLE, BUT I KEEP FAILING AND COMING UP SHORT EVERY TIME AND I HATE IT. I HATE IT, AND I’M SORRY FOR LETTING YOU DOWN.      ❞     he knows as soon as the words leave  his  lips  like venom  that he is  wrong; wrong; wrong; but he can’t stop the words from  leaving his mouth now as he locks a fervent gaze to the now dented wall he had taken his rage out on.       ❝   i’m sorry… for everything, becks, i’m sorry…      ❞     vision blurred as tears sprang in his eyes, then he SQUEEZES them shut. he can’t complain. he can’t breakdown. that’s not who sami zayn is. not like this…}

@strcightfire / starter call.