lormenari

With a low exhale, he pulls her against his body, wrapping his arms around her body and tucking her head beneath his chin. "Quinn, it's okay, okay? Relax. Sam's... going through some shit, okay? We both are. We're trying to write and still trying to do gigs, and we're coming off the fucking tour and we still have to fly out to record when we get enough material for an album or an EP. And I think it's still kind of hard for him to see us together 'cuz now we're living together, you know? That's why I always stay at your place." It's entirely true, although Sam's issue is more one of wanting Puck than wanting Quinn. But he leaves it at that; his hands smooth over her hair, and he kisses her forehead gently. "Look, let me grab my shit and tell Sam I'm gonna take you home, okay? I'll come back for him after 'cuz he's gonna be drunk." There's so much that he can't explain, even to himself. What does he say? I love Sam, and Sam loves me, and I love you, too, and we can't deal with this. There's really no other way to explain it.

He pulls away gently, his hands sliding down her forearms to tangle his fingers with hers. Oh, shit. "Babe?" he asks, trying to keep his voice light. "Sam ask about your ring?"