lormenari

Puck shoots him down so abruptly that Sam just sits still and blinks for a few moments, processing. His idea is so good. What's the problem? "We can work. Like, we can get jobs along the way, and we can sing for people. We can perform roadside. Come on, please? We can do it, we can make it work. I don't want to stay here anymore, Puck, I hate it here. Okay? It sucks here. Everything sucks. Lima sucks. I just want to be with you. I don't care if we lose everything. I'd still choose you. If it means being with you, then fuck the rest. I don't need it." Sam's starting to feel a little desperate. He needs Puck to listen to him. "Even if it meant losing everything, wouldn't you still choose me, too? You'd choose me over Quinn, right? I love you more than her. How many times do I have to tell you? Keep driving, Puck. Just keep driving until we're not here anymore." Sam leans over and touches his arm, poking him incessantly. His ice and napkin are gone, and his finger has an angry scratch over it that kind of itches. "Please, Puck. Answer me. Answer my questions. Are you listening to me?"