❝ Oh no, she still has a slight VENDETTA over him for cracking eggs on her head last year. Long story short, they dated for a while when he attended McKinley — for some reason or another — and he ended up betraying her by breaking her heart. It wasn’t pretty. So, my answer would have to be no. But, on the topic of coffee, we’ll have to see. Rachel and Mercedes are friends with Kurt, so they can’t POSSIBLY judge me, lest they be labelled h y p o c r i t e s, and they wouldn’t dare. Their massive diva egos would SHUDDER at the thought of being ‘ unjustifiably accused ’.
❞
“You know, word travels fast from one show choir circle to the other but I never heard the story of how Jesse Saint James cracked eggs on Rachel Berry’s head. That’s pretty brutal even for competition standards. Some people. Coffee! Right! If this is an acceptance of the invitation then I’d be honored. Rachel and Mercedes will just have to smoulder in silence if they find out and disapprove. I’m willing to leave any and all talk of the Warblers and New Directions on the Not To Be Discussed List regardless. Besides. There has to be more to learn about Quinn Fabray that’s much more interesting. What coffee you drink is good for starters. Yeah? You can tell me on the walk.”
❝ If you QUIT the glee club, I’ll let you touch my breast. ❞
“Uh—. Thank you, Quinn. But.. I’m not a member of New Directions. And if you want me to quit the Warblers? I’m sorry that offer..strangely out of nowhere that it was..isn’t..UM..my thing.”
❝ They ALL look like someone. It’s a part of being the undead. ❞
She’s grown too used to the sight of CORPSES lying around by now. They aren’t human in her eyes anymore, and haven’t been since Heaven knows how long. Has managed to detach herself of emotion when it comes to looking at them because what else is she supposed to do ? She’s a regular FIGHTER; goes out every week or two with her team to pick through the d e b r i s and decaying buildings to find something useful, and bringing something as feeble as FEELINGS into it is … messy.
Of course, Quinn u s e d to care. Remembers the FIRST creature she had killed ——— the sound of its skull caving in and the feeling of KNOWING that it had once been properly, fully alive. Once upon a time, it too, had breathed. It had loved and cared for others, and she’d killed it with an old bat she’d found in someone’s basement. Had to be consoled for at least an hour before she could keep going, and that was only because they were SURE they were being followed. Then, when the whole thing with Finn had happened, she’d learned to keep empathy out of it. Caring wasn’t worth the pain.
❝ Come on, we’ll leave through the back exit. There could be something we NEED in the kitchen, and we don’t want to miss that, ❞ she instructs with the words and mind of a calculated leader. ❝ You take up the front, and I’ll take up the back and make sure that that THING’S definitely dead. Just keep walking, okay ? I’m right behind you.
❞
“She looks like my mom.. I don’t even know if she made it or not..”
Blaine walks as he’s told without giving any sort of verbal confirmation that he understood what she was telling him. Moving was more than enough. Eyes glued to the personthing on the floor until he had to step around to continue on. His blood ran cold, fingers that weren’t holding the grip of his gun with a white knuckled tightness balled into a fist at his side.
“I’m sorry. I’m good now. Promise.”
Quinn’s detachment was something someone like him who lacked it envied. The world would be so much easier to take if he could look at it as all a means to an end that didn’t matter what route you took through a sea of bodies and death as long as he came out on the other side okay. Maybe someday. He was trying. Just wasn’t there yet. Steps that felt ten times heavier than any he’s ever taken carry him towards the back. Most important, the kitchen.
“Let’s just get what we need and get out of here,” he squints stopping by the next wall and holding his breath as he steps far enough to glance around it. Noise, repetitive and quick that only he seems to be able to hear. A rapid gush of an echoing wet in his eardrums, heart pounding and blood rushing fast. CLEAR. “I think that might’ve been the only one..” Oh God, he hoped so.. A quick, sharp glance over his shoulder checked to see if she was there. Of course she was. Quinn was a person he trusted beyond trust. That’s why he’s here with her, after all. “Was it dead?” Please tell me it was dead.
Blaine was visibly shaking–hands constantly wringing together as he stood staring down at the body laid out on the floor. Unable to look away, he shook his head and tried to step around her like he was told to do. A stumbling attempt but he caught up to Quinn blindly, gaze locked behind his shoulder now. That was his problem. ‘Step around it.’ Sure, this wasn’t the first corpse he’s seen. Living in this nightmare–any time they stepped out of the camp–it was impossible not to see the broken shells of people littering the city or town or what felt like EVERYWHERE you looked. Sometimes he could focus on the task at hand long enough to only get queasy or not feel anything at all (a rarity..but it happened a couple times?). Others? Others were like now. It’d be so much easier if he could be like Quinn. Think of them as ‘it’ and they cease to be a reason to give a second thought past the mission and what was truly important. He was trying. He just..couldn’t. That level of disconnect wasn’t in his reach yet.
“She looks like someone..” He couldn’t bring himself to say who. “I need to get out of here.”
❝ Hey, I don’t point out my hiding spots for just ANYBODY, Blaine Warbler. Most of the guys from New Directions don’t even know about them. Or at least, I HOPE that they don’t know about them. Tried taking Santana to one once; she said it was too bougie for her tastes. Told me she was expecting the Queen of England to come in for high tea. Always the hyperbolic DRAMA QUEEN, Santana.
❞
“Just out of curiosity? Who started the trend of calling me by my first name slash Warbler? I mean–is that what you guys do for every opposing team? Is there a Jesse Saint Vocal Adrenaline on Rachel Berry’s hit list? Ooh! What about the other show choirs? Is that a thing for them, too? Because adding Oral Fixation at the end of anything makes it even more questionable than the name already does. If I promise not to share your secret or send an invitation to the Queen and buy you a coffee–would you join me? Or are you worried the others would consider it ‘fraternizing with the enemy’ and off limits since it’d only be the two of us?”
❝ I’ll admit, I don’t often get the URGE to go hanging around with old people — there’s just something about them that doesn’t sit well with me — so I suppose you have a valid excuse. Guess I just always took you guys for having more HIGH-END tastes. I won’t lie, I’m a little bit disappointed. Especially since it’s not actually the best coffee around. There are better places around here, you know.
❞
“Doesn’t sit–? Okay? I’m sorry we’ve disappointed you. If it saves our image in your eyes–? The coffeeshop Dalton is much better. But when half of us would rather not say there the whole weekend? Well. Here we are. Care to fill me in. Obviously, we’re missing out and I’d hate to do that. I’m curious. though. If there are better places in LIMA to get your daily dose of caffeine? Why aren’t you there instead of here?”
❝ Is it like, a thing, or do ALL of the Warblers come here ? Because every time I happen upon the Lima Bean, it’s like there’s some sort of INFESTATION or something. Don’t you guys have anywhere you can hang out in Westerville ? ❞
“ Quinn, right? Have you seen Westerville’s downtown? Not very many places for people our age to hang out on the weekends. Unless you like antique shops. Or hardware stores and Mom and Pop shops. At least here the general age range is below 70 and Early Bird Special go getters? So–I guess it sort of trickled into the weekday visits. Not sure how that happened but–hello. Nice to see you again, too. “
( mssg » quinn | sent ) I’m not sure what that was but I’m so not ignoring it. ( mssg » quinn | sent ) I might even keep it for bribing purposes. Kidding! ( mssg » quinn | sent ) Hello, Quinn. How are you? Besides losing the iPhone game against that wretched device??
They’re all counting, and she’s ninety-eight percent sure that she’s about to get stuck kissing someone at the strike of twelve that a ) she doesn’t like, and b ) wouldn’t want to kiss on a regular day-to-day basis. It’s bad enough that she got dragged out too a party WITHOUT an actual date. Should have stayed at home. ❝ Look, I was a cheerleader, and you seem like an okay kind of person, so if you want to kiss me, I won’t mind. As long as there’s no butt grabbing or FOUL PLAY.
❞
The feeling in the room is becoming a fever pitch of excitement and half drunken howls of laughter. Or not so half drunken. If you look at the faces of several kids Blaine is barely beginning to know with their sparkling eyes and too-wide smiles? The half-drunk line was way passed. Couples were drawing one another in closer as the numbers lowered. 10, 9, 8! The one close friend he has here is nowhere to be seen. 7, 6, 5! A turn around to try and spot Kurt has him bumping into Quinn and he’s barely able to believe what he hears next. 4, 3, and 2 go by but all he hears is her. The irony of no butt grabbing or FOUL PLAY has his nose scrunching as he laughs. They’re the only two alone. The clock isn’t stopping. Who wants to be the only person in the room with no one to kiss? “I promise. No butt touching. None from you either, Quinn.” Blaine winks to earn a smile. It’s silly to make this anything more but a why not?! Nerves tighten his belly but his arm is gentle and careful around her waist when the 1 that is shouted should have made him jump forward. Fingertips touch her cheek and when his lips touch hers–it takes him a moment to close his eyes and press them in firmly. A tilt of his head and he feels how soft they are. The feeling loosens his stomach up far enough to spin it into a whirl, his breath catches and this feels much better than it should.
( mssg » quinn | sent ) Hey, Quinn! The houses in Westerville that put on the Christmas lights display start battling to see who can outdo each other tonight! ( mssg » quinn | sent ) I know this might be a little random but I was curious if you wanted to go with me? I’ll even spring for hot chocolate before the drive? ( mssg » quinn | sent ) What do you say?
pianokeysandbowties 