Tell my lips the words to say // And not let you just walk away with someone else
[Ok, this one wasn't requested, this was just me getting really bored at work. The Puck I had in mind is mechapuckzilla , who was used without permission. Hopefully his mun won't mind]
Next time, i wont suffer this kind of pain
Own my mistakes
Not just pass off all the blame
If you were here, we could figure this out
Then i wouldn't be bitter
I'd just be better now.
To be the strong and silent one
A lot of good that has done
Yes, you'd agree
No more tryin' to understand
Or fix these things because you can
Guess it's up to me
The summer after Beth was born, Judy decided the family needed a vacation. Time away from Lima to let go of all their mistakes and prepare for the year ahead of them. Quinn had assumed that meant a few weeks of playing tourist, while her mom pretended she wasn’t quite as drunk as she actually was. She had never expected three unbearably long, boring months spent visiting her grandparents, the ones who still acknowledged her existence, in Virginia.
She and her mother would go running every day, helping Quinn regain her pre-baby body and get her back in fighting shape for Cheerios. Conveniently this also gave Judy plenty of time to poison her daughter’s mind, to try to turn her against the father of her child.
Puck called and texted repeatedly while they were away, and for the first few weeks, Quinn always responded. But as time passed, her replies became more and more sporadic, and eventually they just stopped coming altogether. Before the summer was over, Puck had given up completely.
When school finally started up again, Quinn was back to her old self, the only skin she was truly comfortable wearing, and the only version of herself that had ever made her parents proud. But, at best, it was a fragile façade with new, fine cracks appearing every day, spiderwebbing out until she couldn’t even glance in a mirror for fear that she would shatter into a million little pieces. And despite Sam’s best efforts, there was only one boy who had ever been able to put her back together again. The same boy who, lately, never looked at her with anything but contempt. She should have been pleased. He’d given up without a fight, and that ought to make things easier. Except that it didn’t. Once upon a time he had told her he loved her, that she was more than just another hookup. But how could that be possible if he didn’t even try? Not that it mattered, of course. She was better off without him.
That was what she tried to fool herself into believing, at least. Because if she was really over him, why was just the thought of him with Santana enough to make her nauseous? And why, if she really didn’t care about him, could she have sworn she heard breaking glass the first time she saw him with Lauren? The way she could make him laugh, that smile that had once been reserved solely for Quinn, destroyed the fragile walls she had protected so fiercely. Nobody would ever know it, but she had skipped Home Ec that day. Locked herself in a stall in the girl’s bathroom, the only place that offered any real privacy, and sobbed quietly.
Still, if she had learned anything from Cheerios, it was how to keep smiling even when it felt like your world was crumbling, and the simple act of breathing made your heart ache. On those nights, and there were many, that she couldn’t sleep, she would lie awake and try to figure out what he saw in Lauren. What made her better than Quinn? Other times she would try to remember what it had felt like when he slept beside her. The warmth, and comforting weight of his arm encircling her waist. But it was no good. The clearest memories were of the discomfort of another life pressing against her spine, or bladder; the annoyance that hit every night when he would come home smelling like that insanely expensive perfume Santana loved so much. The good memories were a lot more blurry, but if she focused, every once in a while she was able to recall them. The way he would occasionally sneak in bacon when his mom went to work, or the way they could fall asleep on opposite sides of the bed and still wake up in the middle, her head on his chest, and his arms tight around her.
Whenever she closed her eyes to sleep the memories, both good and bad, would play on a loop in her mind. One night, after lying away for hours and trying to figure out why she cared what he did, why the memories refused to leave her alone, she grabbed her cell phone off the nightstand where it was charging. Even at her most angry and bitter, she hadn’t been able to erase his number from her contact list, and it only took her a second to find his name. The text message she sent was brief, only four words in total.
“I loved you, too.”
Because saying it, even in the past tense, was more than she’d ever been able to do before.
Quinn slept more soundly that night than she had in months.
Next time, i wont suffer this kind of pain
Own my mistakes
Not just pass off all the blame
If you were here, we could figure this out
Then i wouldn't be bitter
I'd just be better now.
To be the strong and silent one
A lot of good that has done
Yes, you'd agree
No more tryin' to understand
Or fix these things because you can
Guess it's up to me
The summer after Beth was born, Judy decided the family needed a vacation. Time away from Lima to let go of all their mistakes and prepare for the year ahead of them. Quinn had assumed that meant a few weeks of playing tourist, while her mom pretended she wasn’t quite as drunk as she actually was. She had never expected three unbearably long, boring months spent visiting her grandparents, the ones who still acknowledged her existence, in Virginia.
She and her mother would go running every day, helping Quinn regain her pre-baby body and get her back in fighting shape for Cheerios. Conveniently this also gave Judy plenty of time to poison her daughter’s mind, to try to turn her against the father of her child.
Puck called and texted repeatedly while they were away, and for the first few weeks, Quinn always responded. But as time passed, her replies became more and more sporadic, and eventually they just stopped coming altogether. Before the summer was over, Puck had given up completely.
When school finally started up again, Quinn was back to her old self, the only skin she was truly comfortable wearing, and the only version of herself that had ever made her parents proud. But, at best, it was a fragile façade with new, fine cracks appearing every day, spiderwebbing out until she couldn’t even glance in a mirror for fear that she would shatter into a million little pieces. And despite Sam’s best efforts, there was only one boy who had ever been able to put her back together again. The same boy who, lately, never looked at her with anything but contempt. She should have been pleased. He’d given up without a fight, and that ought to make things easier. Except that it didn’t. Once upon a time he had told her he loved her, that she was more than just another hookup. But how could that be possible if he didn’t even try? Not that it mattered, of course. She was better off without him.
That was what she tried to fool herself into believing, at least. Because if she was really over him, why was just the thought of him with Santana enough to make her nauseous? And why, if she really didn’t care about him, could she have sworn she heard breaking glass the first time she saw him with Lauren? The way she could make him laugh, that smile that had once been reserved solely for Quinn, destroyed the fragile walls she had protected so fiercely. Nobody would ever know it, but she had skipped Home Ec that day. Locked herself in a stall in the girl’s bathroom, the only place that offered any real privacy, and sobbed quietly.
Still, if she had learned anything from Cheerios, it was how to keep smiling even when it felt like your world was crumbling, and the simple act of breathing made your heart ache. On those nights, and there were many, that she couldn’t sleep, she would lie awake and try to figure out what he saw in Lauren. What made her better than Quinn? Other times she would try to remember what it had felt like when he slept beside her. The warmth, and comforting weight of his arm encircling her waist. But it was no good. The clearest memories were of the discomfort of another life pressing against her spine, or bladder; the annoyance that hit every night when he would come home smelling like that insanely expensive perfume Santana loved so much. The good memories were a lot more blurry, but if she focused, every once in a while she was able to recall them. The way he would occasionally sneak in bacon when his mom went to work, or the way they could fall asleep on opposite sides of the bed and still wake up in the middle, her head on his chest, and his arms tight around her.
Whenever she closed her eyes to sleep the memories, both good and bad, would play on a loop in her mind. One night, after lying away for hours and trying to figure out why she cared what he did, why the memories refused to leave her alone, she grabbed her cell phone off the nightstand where it was charging. Even at her most angry and bitter, she hadn’t been able to erase his number from her contact list, and it only took her a second to find his name. The text message she sent was brief, only four words in total.
“I loved you, too.”
Because saying it, even in the past tense, was more than she’d ever been able to do before.
Quinn slept more soundly that night than she had in months.