A/N: I feel like most Quick fics out there are heavily based in season 1, but i love their dynamic lately. This is my take on what could happen in a few episodes.
"I hate you," she hisses, struggling against his grip, "I hate you!" It's louder now, her voice is swelling and angry and a little bit desperate because she can't get caught in this position, not with things the way they are. "Get off of me!" she finally cries, and her nails leave trails of red where they scratch his arm and, in some places, pierce his skin. The blood wells slowly, but his hold from behind her does not yield.
"I'm sorry," he says, broken, because it's all he can say. "I just- I don't know, okay? You were getting crazy about Beth, and you can't deny that Shelby's hot, but it was stupid, it was a stupid thing and I'm sorry." He isn't making any sense, and it just makes her angrier. Doesn't she deserve a better explanation? Isn't she worth something to him? To no one else, maybe, but at least to Puck? She plants her feet more solidly, twists her shoulders with all her might but he won't let her go.
"Is that all you have to say for yourself? After ruining my life?"
She doesn't let him finish. "After ruining my life again?" she snaps, and she's always this way when she's angry; she's loud and biting and belittling because she's used to doing these things on a daily basis. Tearing people down is like air to her, and she's taking a sweet, deep breath.
"Quinn, just listen to me-"
The thing is, she's always been the only one who could interrupt him. "No! I won't! I'm sick of you taking my heart and shattering into a million pieces because I was stupid enough to think you actually cared." Her voice cracks harshly on the last words, and tears are streaming soundlessly down her cheeks. She finally, finally sags against his arms, and he just holds her.
"I care," he tells her fervently, "I do, I swear I do."
"You don't get to do this anymore," she whispers, and he finally lets her go. She turns, looks up at him, shakes her head. "I won't let you."
When he opens his mouth, some small part of her thinks he'll say fine, okay, I'll leave, but the majority doesn't believe that, has never believed that. It's never been that easy between them. They've always been gray, always. They're just excellent at playing black-and-white.
"I'm sorry," he finally says, breaking the silence, and that's all.
"I hate you," she whispers one last time before walking away from him, the tear-filled sound covering the empty air. She swipes angrily at her cheeks and vows, then and there, to never give her heart away again.
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