CRASH INTO YOU || FUINN
Finn didn’t know what it was about Quinn that brought out this serious nature he generally kept locked away. All he knew was that it was ridiculously different from the way he’d always treated either Maddie or Marley. Comforting Maddie had been like walking through a field of landmines - any slight step in the wrong direction could result in an explosion of tears, screaming, and a barrage of insults whirled in his direction. He’d learned to tread carefully. With Marley, he felt it was always difficult to gauge the right thing to do or say, and when jealousy entered the equation, it often felt like even the best intentions were skewed to be awful displays of love for all the wrong people.
With Quinn, things were different. They knew each other so well that they knew what they could or could not say, like a skillful dance with steps that were familiar and comfortable. Though he knew there were things he shouldn’t bring up, Quinn lacked that delicacy that the others had - the wrong step wouldn’t make her shrivel and scream; most of the time, it just caused her to throw up that icy wall, and then Finn just had to bring it down again. Of course, there had been times that Finn had been caught off guard by a reaction he hadn’t predicted, but they’d always managed to get through. Finn could always find his way back to a place of comfort with Quinn, and he liked life that way.
So maybe he was upsetting the balance in letting her see his anger - after all, he was supposed to be the silly, goofy, happy one, wasn’t he? Their yin-yang-like properties were probably what kept them in such a good state of balance. Still, it seemed to have the effect that he had been going for: she had quieted, taking in his words with a slump of her shoulders. Finn knew better than to get excited about the fact that he had won out in this instance - Quinn didn’t accept help easily.
Quinn turned her head into his hand, her lips brushing against his palm, and Finn’s whole body seemed to tingle with the unexpected contact. His breath had stuck in his throat, his eyes riveted to her face. There was a weakness within him that was screaming for him to just close the small distance between them and press his lips to hers. If such a tiny brush of skin could cause him to feel this, he couldn’t even imagine what would happen if he were to kiss her. Finn felt certain the world would bottom-out from beneath them and the heat that they shared would be far more intense than anything the sun could ever hope to produce.
But that was placing a lot of pressure on a first kiss that Finn was sure would never happen.
“I would take the money,” Finn sighed, rolling his eyes at her silly scenario, though there was probably a little truth in her words. Maybe for the first couple of months, he’d be pretty good at abiding by the set-up, but eventually he’d probably just skate around it, letting her just stay here. Not that he was going to admit that to her. “Well, that would be understandable in any situation… anyone you room with will have to deal with that anyway.”
Finn wondered how long they could stay like this, his hand in hers and him leaning against the counter she was perched upon. It was almost as though the bubble they had lived in for the whole of summer had somehow sought them out again, enveloping them with the warmth and comfort they had allowed when they had shared a small hotel room. He’d stay like this forever, if he could.
“I don’t feel like I’m cleaning up your messes,” Finn answered honestly, his eyes finding her face so that he could see the sadness that had already entwined itself in her voice. While his instincts - and his mutinous body, dammit - kept telling him to pull her closer, Finn pulled back slightly to examine her. “Why don’t we order some Chinese and go watch something? Like old times?”
Moments. They were nothing more than moments caught up in a tornado that swept up every look they shared when they thought they weren’t being watched - every accidental brush of their fingertips against each others skin - and threw it back into them at full force when they least expected it; when they were the least prepared. Numerous times she’d heard the phrase “the calm before the storm,” and she had to wonder if calm was the thunder from Finn’s palm making her knees rumble, then maybe it was a good thing they’d never dared to clash their lips together. The air around them had grown painfully still, the atmosphere from Tennessee had found them - uncaring that it was no longer its season.
It was no secret that Quinn had taken to analyzing her life through a lens; it was easier to be disconnected when you were watching things from a third-point perspective. Cleaning out Marley’s space had long been on her list of things to do - granted, she managed to get rid of plenty in a rage after the news had come out - but having returned to an empty bed had left her restless at night, and she’d managed to dig up a series of old photographs of the three of them when she’d first been dragged along as an uncomfortable third wheel. Marley and Finn were enveloped in their own world while Quinn’s body language was one of disinterest and boredom; of course when she’d looked through their most recent pictures, she had to fight hard not to note the same sort of dopey, glazed-over look on his face when he glanced at her.
The mention of money had her letting out a low and breathy snicker, eyes rolling right along, as her head tilted to one side an eyebrow raising dubiously at him. There was no annoyance, but merely amusement at his words - as if she didn’t know him better than to know he’d likely stop bringing up the topic of rent a few months in, probably in the hopes that she would accept his kindness without wanting to give anything back in return. It felt like some odd imbalance in their relationship and for what was perhaps the first time in her life, she felt something akin to guilt in her chest. Maybe it was the way he’d suddenly moved away from her that had made the bricks in her lungs drop down into her stomach.
Quinn wanted to argue with that; even from the moment he offered to drive her all the way home for winter break, he’d been cleaning up her messes. One could argue that was the basis of their entire relationship; something Quinn thought of as important crumbled like packaged cookies in a child’s hand, and Finn would promptly appear with a broom, more cookies and a glass of milk. Quinn appreciated everything he’d done immensely, but whenever she tried to vocalize it the words would get cramped up at the tip of her tongue - too afraid to take a dive. Even now all she could do was nod solemnly, giving his hand one last squeeze before letting it drop. “Good plan. I’ll call and get us the usual, you pick something to watch?”
Sliding down the counter, her feet were back on the ground and she stood at the kitchen for a moment in silence, the tips of her shoes tapping against each other as she licked her lips and looked over at him, “thanks Finn,” placing a hand on his shoulder she helped herself get the few extra inches to reach his cheek with her lips. At some point he’d managed to slide his arms around her again, and she rested her head on the crook of his neck - the familiar smell relaxed her enough to let out another long, albeit somewhat more relieved, sigh. As soon as she began to exhale, she pulled back, patting both his shoulders at the same time, “I’m gonna go steal some of your clothes, because this outfit was not created to eat Chinese in,” she scoffed. It was a weak excuse, and they both knew it but she’d stolen some of his clothes when they shared a room together, it was a matter of comfort, nothing more.
It was one thing to share a room, and another entirely to let someone into your own room - into a sort of sanctuary you had created for yourself. As usual, Finn had no trouble in letting her rummage through his drawers in the search for something to wear - but much like when she’d been in his childhood room, she couldn’t help but to snoop for a few minutes, more so now that their usual place had put them on hold. There were music sheets laying about, which made Quinn wonder if he was working on a new piece of music - she would have asked him, but she always felt like his music was such a personal thing. As she kept moving about, her eyes landed on a picture of them from Tennessee - one of many of course, but her chin was resting on his shoulder, an easy grin on her lips as they stared at each other as if the scenery in front of them was nothing in comparison.
The thought had her moving toward the door, eager to distract herself with bad tv and cheap food; but just then Deeno caught her eye and she grinned, grabbing it quickly as she headed toward the phone to place the order. Hanging up the phone, she walked back into the living room taking a seat so close to Finn that their legs were pressed against each other, and placed Deeno on her lap. “Guess who I ran into,” she joked before adding, “also they said it’d be about 30-45 minutes.”
