lormenari

"Well, then go," Sam says, his mood swinging from melancholia to anger. He throws the shampoo bottle on the floor of the tub. "If you wanna go and have a good time with her and keep her happy so she doesn't cut off your dick while you're asleep then fucking go. Leave me alone." He gets out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his shoulders as he goes to his room, throwing himself on his bed, wetness and all. He pulls the tangled sheets up and buries his face in his pillow, fuming and depressed and nauseous. Of course he'd be pissed if Puck bailed on him to take care of Quinn. But Sam's drunk and he doesn't want to hear any of Puck's logic. He wants it to be just them.