Saddest Story Never Told. || Quinn.|| Self-para.
David said he’d come by the Cemetery, and Quinn could’ve sworn that she hadn’t ever felt so sick in her life. Heat rose up in the back of her throat, and she struggled to keep her breaths calm, avoiding the reality that David was going to be with her again. Maybe that would be enough for him to figure Quinn out. That scared the girl, too, because what would she have after that? Quinn didn’t know who she was without her mystery, and she wasn’t ready for other people trying to sort it out before she could. Quinn didn’t know what she’d say, what David would say once he got to the headstone. But maybe this would be how her game would finally end; not on her terms, but abrupt and unexpectedly. Maybe this was just the end of Quinn being any sort of enigma to people. Quinn shivered at the thought, not quite ready to expose herself to David, but unable to prevent it from happening. Quinn pulled her legs up to her chest, her chin resting on her knees.
At the sound of an engine being shut down, Quinn lowered her face, her forehead resting on her kneecaps. She just needed to calm down; it’d be okay. The attempt at self-comfort was wasted, and only fastened the pounding sensation in her temple. She imagined herself imploding, and all of her thoughts just being gone. Scattered around the graveyard, maybe. Quinn could hear footsteps on gravel, and she balled her hands into fists, nails digging into the fresh bandages already wrapped around her palms from one of her drunken falls. Quinn moved her fingers, trying to let her nails dig in as far as possible. She needed something to keep her grounded, something to keep her from just exploding.
Quinn’s shoulders tightened at the sound of David being so close, and she shut her eyes for a moment, holding her eyelids down as tight as she could. Quinn saw red under her eyelids, but could see the words David would be reading. Here lies Jimmy James. Love father and husband. Never forgotten. They were harsh words, and they didn’t do anything but finalize death. Quinn had grown to hate them over time, rejecting them.
Quinn could hear David sitting down beside her, and wasn’t sure if he was looking for words or just staying silent. “So,” Quinn said, her voice low, straining for some sort of confidence. “You finally came back.” The words were bitter on Quinn’s tongue, and she spat them out at David’s feet, craving some sort of release. “Do you get a kick out of hurting me?” Quinn moved her head quickly, turning to face David beside her. She hoped her tired, heavy eyes held something of a challenge, because she wanted nothing from herself if not fierceness. Quinn knew it wasn’t David she wanted to fight with, but she wanted to close out the sadness, the softness. Brute, raw fighting could do that, and though Quinn’s hands were torn up, she could use her words, though they tasted foreign on her tongue, like she was trying them out for the first time.
David didn’t know what he was expecting from the girl beside him. A soft-spoken story? He knew his guess was enough, but he craved hearing it from her. But it couldn’t have been that easy. Even given the circumstances, sitting on the damp grass in a cemetery at midnight beside a girl he seemed to barely know, things were never that easy. So why was he so shocked when she bit him out? He didn’t do anything. His eyes lifted to meet hers and he flinched slightly as her harsh words felt like a slap across the face. But he didn’t move. He didn’t stand up and yell at her. He didn’t point out that he had gotten out of his comfortable room, his warm house and driven all the way to this memory-ridden cemetery to make sure she was something close to fine. Instead, he just waited for her to calm down a little bit.
“Are you done?” He asked calmly, sitting with his legs crossed now and placing his hands behind him. His voice was even, his gaze soft as he continued to watch her wipe her tears, as if she’d finally catch them all. But when her heavy glare faltered just a bit, he felt he was finally able to speak. “You think that’s all this is? You think it's all a cruel game to me?” Was it all a game? But he didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t just a game for him. He didn’t see Quinn as a secret, he saw her as a girl he enjoyed. He saw her as good company. And even now that their game was up, he was just happy he understood her a little better. Clay Evans was a big part of Quinn. And with everything having finally fallen apart, the man was finally able to put the pieces together. Quinn was in love and she was losing it. It explained the drinking. It explained the distance. It explained the troubled thoughts and the bandages on her hands that he never acknowledged, in hopes she’d forget about them for a brief moment, too.
“Tell me about him,” David finally broke the silence again. His eyes were still on her, watching her every move. He wanted to reach out, brush the hair away from her, hold her wrapped hands, show her that this wasn’t anything close to the end. She was more than just a solved mystery. But he didn’t dare. He just sat up, dusted the grass from his hands and placed his arms on his legs, waiting for her to give in. He didn’t care to hear about Clay Evans. And even that was selfish. But why would he? He didn’t want to hear all the things that Quinn loved about Clay, because those things would be things David could never find in himself. He wouldn’t be able to comfort her either. So he waited. He waited to hear about every great thing and every terrible flaw Clay had held and how Quinn had fallen so hard for it all.
Quinn noticed the slight flinch of David's face, and almost felt bad for what she’d said, but that feeling was just as soon replaced with pride, knowing she could push David entirely away if she tried hard enough. Then Quinn wouldn’t have to deal with this guilt anymore. Quinn found herself almost upset that David wasn’t fighting back, wasn’t putting her in the position of spitting out more words. Quinn realized it was probably midnight, or past, and David had driven out all this way just to see her. She didn’t know why, but the sooner he left her alone, the better.
Quinn wanted to run, then, wanted to take her shoes, and run as fast as her long legs would let. But she stayed. Quinn knew she didn’t want to be figured out; as long as people didn’t really know her, understand her, she could easily keep them at bay, resting easily with the knowledge that they never really knew her. It made it easier for Quinn to get by. She looked down at the ground, and, while crossing her legs, began to pull out grass in fists, content in destroying something. But now, David would know her. Perhaps not completely, but she wouldn’t be any sort of enigma or mystery, just an insane girl with bitter breath, scared eyes and stacks of photos.
Her eyes felt heavy, tired, but she kept them open. From the way David said the words, Quinn thought he didn’t really want to talk about Clay. “Why’d you come here? You could’ve just fucked off, y’know.” She spoke softly. “You’re right, I could have fucked off,” David nodded, leaning back on his hands again. He glanced up at the sky, “I could be lying in my bed right now, falling asleep. Or jacking off. Or doing anything but this.” And it was true. He could have been spending his night in complete bliss. But it wouldn’t have felt right. David was meant to be sitting beside Quinn right now, he knew he was."But I’m here and I’m not going anywhere,” David stated as his eyes moved over to her. She could push and push, attempt to return any memory of him, bite him out, tell him off, but he would still stay right beside her and wait for her to let it all out. She wouldn’t be able to leave without his mark. He wanted to know that in the grand scheme of things, he had at least left his mark, like she had left hers.
Quinn laughed when David said he could be doing anything other than being with her, because she knew it was true. He could’ve been doing absolutely anything, but here he was, sitting on a grave with a girl he had known for far too long. It was so ridiculously morbid, really, that Quinn knew it’d make anyone else sick, but it only made her feel more secure in the moment, like it wasn’t totally normal, there was something off about it.
“I don’t want to be alone forever, okay? I know how I never seem to care but I do. I know that I’m not the prettiest person or the easiest person to get along with but I am petrified of being alone. This may be the only chance I have and I just fucked it up. I deserve it. I don’t care. I just don’t want to end up alone forever.” Quinn added in a small voice, not helping the tears that were running down her face as she turned to look at him. She was destined to be alone and that scared her shitless. "I'm going to have to tell Clay the truth soon and it's going to destroy him." The gentle soft tears turned into harsh sobs as Quinn held her knees closer to her body, afraid that if she let go of herself, she'd actually fall apart.
"Quinn" David watched as the girl fell apart infront of him. "You two are going to make it through this," His words were gentle but they still scared her. "He loves you. I can see it in the way he looks at you everyday. You're his entire world, his saving grace." No matter how much the words killed David, he knew they had to be said. Maybe they'd be what saved Quinn one day. He leaned over and gently wiped one of her tears away.
Quinn cried softy, her pale hands coming up to also wipe the tears that seemed to be endless. After having been so strong for so long, Quinn knew she needed to let it all out. No matter how embarrassing or awkward it seemed. "I'm not wife material." She managed to get out, her bottom lip trembling. "I'm not even mother material." It was true. Quinn hadn't ever been able to reach a break through with her kids. That was exactly why she buried herself in her work so often. To avoid it. She couldn't handle it. She never could.
"Hey now, don't say that." David shot back, lowering his hand. "You're perfect, Quinn Evans." The name sounded so wrong, but he didn't ponder on it. "You're a wonderful wife and an amazing mother. You just need to clear your head." It was clear that David was running out of advice to give the girl. He never really was good at giving advice. Or compliments, for that matter. Wiping at the free tears, Quinn shook her head. "I appreciate the effort, but you're wrong." She whispered back and David looked down. "You can go now, David." Quinn spoke, shaking her head. She honestly just wanted to be left alone for now. "Would you like a ride home?" He asked, worried. "No." Her reply was short and cold, quite like herself.
David understood. He knew she needed her space. It just seemed like an odd place to come. "I.." He began but caught himself. "I hope you feel better, Quinn Evans." Seven simple words and suddenly David was gone, thus leaving Quinn alone. She closed her eyes and let out a shaky sigh.
She'd have to get used to that.
