[ piggyback ]
“Finn, be careful!” Quinn squealed, laughing as she felt her boyfriend strengthen his grip on her legs. She had her arms wrapped tightly around Finn’s neck and her ankles locked around his torso as he carried her through the reception hall and toward the exit doors. Admittedly, wearing 6” heels to their friend’s wedding probably wasn’t one of the most well-thought out decisions of Quinn’s life, but they made her legs look lengthened and extra toned, plus they gave her a few extra inches to be able to give Finn a surprise peck on the jaw if she so felt compelled. Even further, she probably never would’ve purchased such steep pumps in the first place, foreseeing a possible struggle, but when the sales women suggested how they would match perfectly with her dress, Quinn couldn’t disagree. While she could see right through that lady’s sales tactic, she couldn’t deny that they were the perfect strappy accent to her mauve slitted dress. She had wobbled slightly when she first put them on at home, but after doing a few test struts down her hallway, she gathered up all her years of perfect balance from cheering and mastered her stride after only a few tries.
Unfortunately, her initial confidence slowly fizzled out as the event drew on, her feet were consequently throbbing throughout the ceremony, during cocktail hour, and especially while she danced. Finally, at nearly the end of the night, she gave in to the pain and removed her heels. She let out a sigh of relief, which prompted Finn to ask her why she waited so long to take them off, inspecting the blisters already forming on her reddened feet. ”Because they were expensive,” Quinn replied, carefully wiggling her toes, reassuring herself that she didn’t, in fact, cause any permanent damage for the sake of aesthetics. “Plus, I don’t give up that easily. I can handle a few blisters. Do you remember what my feet would look like when Coach Sylvester used to make the cheerios run laps every time one of our knees quivered? This is nothing in comparison.”
Quinn watched as Finn eyed her feet. “I’m fine, I swear,” she promised, picking up her heels by the straps and pulling herself to her feet, using the table for stability. “I just…have to figure out how I’m getting to the car.” Not only did she have no desire to walk across the entire reception hall barefoot, she was starting to second guess whether she was actually fine at all. How was it possible that her feet hurt even more now that the shoes were off?
She looked to her boyfriend, practically watching the gears turn in his mind before he spun around in front of her, crouched down, and gestured towards his back. “Really?” Quinn laughed softly. It seemed so childish, so silly, but she had to admit it was a great idea. It wasn’t as though having Finn carry her bridal-style would have been in good taste. After a moment of hesitation, glancing around her to see if anyone’s eyes were on them, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hopped on.
