Time flows by when you're having fun.

A saying overly used. Days had passed by within a blink of an eye, and before I knew, it had been a week since I started working here. I had gotten used to my surroundings. I learnt most of the large prison grounds off by heart. But there were just a few rooms that I had yet to memorize.

Other than that, there wasn't much of a change. I had somewhat gotten closer to my patients, but I knew there was a long way to go before they'd completely open up to me. Not to say that was the case for all of them. Some of them were more than welcoming to talk about their past and I liked that.

However, there were some inmates which had trouble opening up or were either hesitant. But I didn't know why - I would never judge them. And automatically my mind thought of him.

Sam Blake.

I could truthfully say that, since I stepped foot inside of this prison, he had me intrigued. It was strange and sometimes I thought I was becoming a creep of some sort. He'd be on my mind, countless of occasions and for all sorts of reasons.

I had so many questions I longed to ask him. So many little, big thoughts about him, which I knew were secretly going to drive me insane. I just wanted to know...

Who was the real Sam Blake?

And what was his story?

That's all I wanted from him - at the very least.

I found myself frowning as I walked down the faintly familiar route. The set of keys clinked with one another in movement with my every step. It was a late Friday night evening. I had taken the set of keys from Daniel, finishing up his locking of jail cells.

I think it had become an arrangement of some sort. Since Daniel first left last week, I sort of just took his keys from him and waved him off, telling him I'd see him in a day or two. I'm pretty sure I surprised him by that.

My smile slipped into a half-smile, but I then thought back to Sam. Not much progress occurred between us. I could see there was a large part of him which pulled him back from opening up. I think he didn't want me to think too much of him. But it only did the opposite.

There was even a moment I thought back to the rumours Daniel told me about him. What if there was really some truth to it? But I pushed the thought aside the second it entered my mind. No matter what, I'd never believe in anything, unless I knew for sure myself.

I let out a low breath, continuing to walk towards the first ground of jail cells Daniel would normally close up for. The further I walked, I neared towards it, my heels echoing in my ears. It was the only sound to be heard, and it was a little scary.

Calming the light nerves in my stomach, I stepped towards the first jail cell. It was the same inmate holding an MP3 in his hand, earphones plugged inside of his ears and a motionless expression playing on his face. He bobbed his head to the beat.

I chewed down on my bottom lip, twisting the lock shut. I moved onto the rest, inmates doing different things. I even passed one jail cell which had an inmate watching what looked like TV. But the little square shape with a red border, had to be only about seven inches wide.

It surprised me to see the inmates have technology with them. I didn't even know they were allowed to have a MP3.

It shocked me a little.

Suddenly, the light nerves sitting in my stomach decided it was their time to spring back up into action, when I thought about the second last cell I would have to lock. Because that cell was no other than Mark's.

I found myself shivering, a grimace painting onto my face. His last absurd comment was echoing in my mind as I neared towards his cell. My breaths became a little more heavy and my heart rate increased. With last final thought, I stepped towards his cell.

However, the instant emotion of relief flooded my body. He was in his bed, laying down on it, a blanket covering his torso and the rest of him. His eyes were closed and a rough sound which sounded like a snore, left him.

I let out a deep sigh of relief.

Thank you, God.

Not wanting to catch a chance of him suddenly waking up, I hurriedly locked the jail cell and moved onto the last cell. My heart was jumping, but it suddenly came to a hiatus when I faced the very last cell.

His inky arms were exposed, the defined muscles clenching with his every movement as he pulled himself up and down using the weight of a black pole. Blonde locks of hair were lazily left over his head, the significant tattoo crawling up his neck, catching my eyes. 'Patience' it read.

Instantly, my cheeks flooded red when his head swooped over into my direction. His hair bounced with him.

It was then I realized I spoke out loud.

"Belle," He rasped, my name sounding so effortless rolling off his tongue.

"Sam, hi." I quietly whispered, taking a step towards his cell. The corner of his lips twitched a little and he let go of the pole ( I hadn't noticed before) and over to me. It was as if he suddenly forgot he was doing pull ups in the first place.

"Daniel's left?" He asked, his brows furrowing a little. I nodded, feeling my cheeks flush darker.

Once again I thanked the lack of lighting.

There was a pause, a small silence in the air.

"Why patience?" I whispered, finally breaking the silence. He ran a hand through his blonde locks of hair. I suddenly wished I was his hand.

"What?" He arched a brow. I bit down on my bottom lip, pointing over to his neck where the beautifully tattooed word was permanently printed. His tongue swiped out and wet his heart shaped lips.

And suddenly my mind thought back to the night when they were on my cheek.

The day I was on my period and he noticed. His aim to comfort me was to leave the most memorizing, dreamy, peck on the cheek I had ever felt. The tingles there, had never left and it scared, but intrigued me at the same time.

Absentmindedly, I found myself running a hand over the same place they once were.

"Patience...because we all need to have some." He mumbled, shifting his eyes away. I furrowed my brows a little, pushing up my glasses.

"Why do you think that?" I softly asked, taking a step closer towards his cell. His eyes flickered over to me for a second

"Because, it's something a lot of us lack." He lowly replied, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind him. A small pause of silence grew in the air. He stared at the ground, his jaw suddenly clenched while I watched him.

"Sometimes, people need to learn to wait and not always lose their shit, just because they can't get what they've asked for or are waiting for." He continued to speak.

"It's something every human being should have, fuck, it's common courtesy to wait in line, instead of pushing your way towards the front." He muttered, and I never failed to miss the way his hands clenched into fits.

It, weirdly, both intrigued me and aroused me.

"It's something...something we should take notice of. If there's no patience, there's no peace. For example a man owed money to the king, but the king waited and gave him another day. The king had a choice to make. He could have allowed his greed, his power and his selfishness to take over him and kill the man. Or he could have dealt with it in peace."

He paused, eyeing up the ground. I never took my eyes away from him, finding myself pulled into him by the words leaving his lips.

"By killing that man, he put grief upon his family and the thirst of revenge from them." He uttered.

"And I could carry on and tell you about how all of it could lead to war and destruction, but I think you understand where I'm coming from. If there's no patience in the world, there is no peace." He rasped.

I bobbed my head in response, agreeing with him.

"You're right. I understand completely." I breathed. His eyes flickered up over to me and then his eyes softened a little. An unusual beam of light crossed the hazel orbs.

"But there's also another reason why I believe so highly in patience." His husky voice said. I felt my heart beat a little faster, the colour of red draining onto my cheeks. As I had said before, his eyes were so intense. So captivating.

"What?" I was so quiet, I almost thought I didn't say anything. His eyes then finally left the grey ground beneath him and focused on me.

"Because, without any patience, we never get the good in our life without the bad which comes our way. We suffer through the bad, but then...then comes the good. We just have to make sure that we're patient enough to wait for it all." He whispered, his eyes looking right at me.

It was strange. It did something strange to my heart. I felt it slip inside of me.

"Patience, because we have to wait for the good." He lastly said. Our eyes lingered on one another, holding a steady gaze. The only sound I could hear was our breaths. His, sounding soft and in rhythm, while mine were heavy.

I didn't know until I snapped out of our stare that I had somehow moved closer towards his jail cell. I think it was when he was talking. He finally broke our gaze, focusing his attention back on the ground for a second, before he walked over the black pole.

"Sorry, I got carried away...I didn't know what I was talking about..." He trailed off, the discomfort explicitly there with his every word.

I found myself smiling, a flutter going off inside my heart.

"Don't be sorry, Sam. That made me think a little and I realize where you're coming from. I understand and agree with you completely. It brings new meaning to the word." I truthfully told him.

He glanced over to me, the noticeable small smile growing onto his lips. It was faint, barely there.

But fully noticeable to me.

"Thank you," I blurted out, not giving it a second thought. He arched a surprisingly thickly shaped brow, extending his arms out and gripping onto the black pole.

"T-Thank you for opening up to me, w-without me asking for you to." I finished, swallowing the little bubble in my throat. He tensed for a second, before he used all his arms strength and pulled his body up, his chest hitting the pole.

He didn't reply, and carried on with his pull ups. My eyes moved with him, following his body.

"I don't want that down in my file that you have of me." He muttered. I found myself arching a brow.

"What?" I whispered, in confusion. He didn't say anything, continuing with his pulls ups. Small sweat beads grew on his forehead and arms. I bit down on my bottom lips, having the need to clench my thighs together.

There was just something largely erotic about a man like him working out.

Get it together, Belle!

There was silence, small groans leaving his lips as he continued with his exercise. And eventually he stopped, jumping down and letting out a heavy panted breath.

"You know what I'm talking about." He spoke up. I pushed my glasses up, watching as he picked up a white cloth and ran it over his sweaty forehead. Then his beautiful arms.

"I don't," I heard myself say. A low chuckle left his lips, yet I could sense the dry humour behind it.

"That brown folder you have, the same one you use to write down notes about me and make me feel as if I'm some fucking insane individual." He flatly said. My mouth parted and I shook my head at him. I lifted my arms up at him.

"Do you see any pen or notebook in either of my hands?" I asked him, his eyes clocking over to me for a second. There was a slight shake of the head from him.

"I'm not going to write it down, Sam." I gently said.

"And you know I don't think of you as an insane individual. It's my job to try and understand you and taking notes is in the process of it." I calmly told him.

"I know it's your job." He muttered. I frowned in response.

"I could walk away right now and not even have had this conversation with you, but I chose to stay. Last time I checked, this wasn't part of what I was getting paid for." I pressed. His jaw clenched and he glanced down at the ground, suddenly finding interest in it.

Sighing, I reached towards his lock and twisted it shut, finishing the job I came here for in the first place.

"But I won't do it again, since you can't trust me. I'll leave you alone." I mumbled, forcing myself to speak. Just as I was about to turn on my heels, he stopped me.

"Don't...don't, Belle." He sighed.

"I'm sorry, alright? I'm just not used to all of this and I can't help how I feel. It's annoying me, I just feel like you're just here to get information from me so you can take it back and share it with the rest of them."

"I would never do that." I truthfully said.

"I know. And that's what jars me." He sounded pained.

"Sam," I softly called.

"You can trust me." I whispered, smiling at him. His eyes lingered on me for a second, almost to see if I was telling the truth, before he nodded.

"Good."

When I returned to my room later on that night, I found myself thinking back to his meaningful words.

There was something about them...

Something which made me think insanely...

It were as if his words were about me.

•••••

Hey guys! What did you all think of this chapter? The chapter you are waiting for will be in the next one or two - I forgot, but yas! I can't wait to update it. Anyways, thoughts on the story so far?