Quinn had been reading for almost the entire night before her green eyes lifted from the pages and finally fell on the brunette, sleeping peacefully in the bed across the room. She let out a sigh, quietly closing the leaterbound cover of Romeo and Juliet. It had been her favorite book since she was a child. Her father had thought it was far too mature of a story for her but Quinn's intelligence far exceeded the stories that her classmates were reading and her mother always encouraged her exploration into older stories.
That was before Judy Fabray found more comfort in a vodka tonic than a Robert Frost poem, and before Russell stopped seeing Quinn's choices in reading material as the only troublesome thing about his entirely perfect little girl. Before she had fallen in love with Santana Lopez. A girl. Before she could confidently say that she was gay. Before he had banned them from seeing each other. Before the ache in Quinn's chest that never went away and the sleepless nights and the so many other perfect things that seemed to outweigh them. That was before all of this. Now here she was, in a cheap hotel, drinking instant decaf, burying her soul in a story that had once meant the world to her.
Now her world was there, on that bed, wrapped in hotel sheets, safe from the hateful gaze of Russell Fabray, locked away in a room with no one else. Quinn tossed the book angrily across the table. She couldn't help but feel a little cheated by the story she had once felt was an epic romance. Romeo and Juliet never had to struggle. Their lives got difficult, their families were disappointed in them, and they both just died. That was it; forever and eternal love with the simple flick of a blade. Quinn assumed that was what was supposed to be epic about them, that they gave their lives to be together forever. There was nothing epic about that.
Somehow now, in a hotel, miles from home, watching the only important person in her life sleeping for the first time in days, Romeo and Juliet seemed cowardly. They would never have to face the things that threatened to tear them apart. They would never have to challenge and stretch their love in ways they weren't sure they knew how to, they would never have to watch the person they love break and cry no matter how strong they tried to be. Quinn felt betrayed somehow by the story, and the blindness it has forced her into. Now she was far from blind. Santana made her see everything.
Gathering the small blanket around her icy arms, Quinn stood from the chair, and wandered to the bed, laying slowly in the creaky springs of the mattress, trying not to jar the girl beside her. She pulled herself closer to the other girl's body, letting her head sink into it's usual spot between Santana's neck and shoulder, before draping the blanket over both of them and wrapping her arm across her girlfriend's body. "I love you." She whispered. Gazing up at the other girl's closed eyelids. "We're stronger than all of them."