Title: Denial
Pairing/Characters: Puck/Quinn
Summary: She has always denied everything.
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Word Count: 1,546
Spoiler: Everything up to 1x09 Wheels.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
AN: I haven't written in the longest time ever. First Glee fic. Be nice? =/
She has denied a lot of things.
Even when she was little, she remembered denying her whole kindergarten class her friendship, save for Santana and Brittany.
As she attended elementary school, she remembered denying the fact that boys really didn't have cooties and just wanted to be by her.
When middle school came around, she remembered denying the fact that just because people envied her, it didn't mean she had that many friends.
During the summer before high school started, she remembered denying her parents' requests and began to date her current boyfriend.
Somewhere along the way, she remembered denying Satan of his evil works.
But she ultimately slipped. She succumbed to temptation. She fell.
She fell into his arms, literally. It was after weigh-ins, after Sylvester had tore her down, after she believed that she really was fat and ugly. She was running, denying that any of it had just happened. Holding her books above her head to block the rain, she headed straight to her new car. The parking lot was slippery, she wasn't watching where she was going, life was mocking her, whatever the reason, she lost her footing, and down she went.
It was like one of those stupid romantic movies where the guy appears out of nowhere and saves the girl from hitting the floor. Puck was suddenly there, and she was in his arms – grace gone, dignity in tact. It was so cliché, a perfect continuation of her life. A hollow, dry laugh escaped her lips.
As Puck helped her up, she looked at him for the first time in a long while, searched his eyes as if they would provide her an answer for life. She guessed that something showed in her eyes because Puck's mouth closed, the smart ass comment never leaving. She dared say that his eyes took on a look of concern as he wrapped his arms around her. She wanted to push him away, wanted to fight, wanted to regain her image of independence, but she couldn't. Instead, she allowed herself to be enveloped in his embrace; she allowed herself to stop denying her attraction to Puck. That was her first mistake of the night.
She felt Puck shifting, so she lifted her head off his chest, ready to deny that Puck had shown her compassion, but then Puck did the unexpected and scooped her tiny frame in his arms. She gave a yelp of surprise and opened her mouth to remark on their current positions but snapped it shut when she realized she no longer cared. Puck carried her to his truck, placed her in the passenger seat, and went around the back to situate himself in the driver's seat. Their eyes connected for a moment, the silent question asked. She responded by buckling her seat belt and looking out the window. She denied him her conversation, but she graced him with her presence. That was her second mistake of the night.
Realizing that Puck was just driving in circles, she denied her rational thinking and told him that her parents weren't home. That was her third mistake of the night.
They pulled up at her house and sat in the stillness. She made no inclination to get out and shivered as she eventually felt Puck's gaze wash over her. Covering for her obvious chills, she stated that the rain was cold and gave her a headache. She then promptly dumped her books on Puck's lap and moved to go inside. She denied him a look over the shoulder to check if he got the invitation, so she failed to see the pack of wine coolers he brought along. That was her fourth mistake of the night.
She led him to the living room and curled up on the couch. She made room for him on the loveseat as he placed the wine coolers on the coffee table. She grabbed one without hesitation, and after her second, she started talking. She denied her parents' orders of no alcohol. That was her fifth mistake of the night.
She looked at him listening intently to her every word. She saw that he actually understood what she was saying, unlike her boyfriend. She saw a good-looking guy who actually had defined muscles, unlike her boyfriend. She saw someone who didn't think about Rachel Berry, unlike her boyfriend. She closed her eyes. She wasn't drunk enough to do this. She wasn't going to be that girl, but she had denied herself too long. She slept with him. That was the only thing she did right that night.
The next day, she denied everything.
She denied having lost her virginity (to Puck of all people) until she couldn't. She denied being pregnant until she couldn't. Even then she denied the real father a role in the baby's life. She denied his mini-speech without a second thought. She denied him any sort of presence in her life.
But the bake sale subsequently followed, and she found herself in the home ec room accompanied by Puck, who handed her eighteen dollars. She denied his offering.
The close proximity of their bodies got to her, and she felt herself once more drawn towards him.
She succumbed to temptation once more.
She turned to him to talk. When he responded, she could barely avert her eyes from his lips. She ended up cracking an egg over his head, starting a messy food fight. There was a lot of flying powder, a few eggs, and flying emotions. His arms at one time had enveloped her as the fight continued. She laughed. She actually felt happy. As the fight died down, their bodies moved in sync, two magnets attracted to each other. She remembered his caresses as he brushed back her hair. Her eyes traveled from his eyes to his lips as they leaned in closer. Then her boyfriend interrupted, and she pulled away ever so slightly. She denied missing the feel of Puck's hand as he slid his hand down and off her arm. She denied that anything was unusual and stated that Puck and her were just baking. When Puck went to change, she denied briefly wishing it was her boyfriend walking out the door.
No one bought anything on the first day of the bake sale as she sat next to Puck in a wheelchair. She denied that she felt her time less wasted because of where they were sitting.
And today, sporting Puck's cupcakes, the bake sale was a success. She denied enjoying laughing with Puck. She denied having eye sex with him. She almost managed to deny his whole presence. But afterwards when he had stopped her in the middle of the hallway and offered her money, she gave an unnoticeable sigh.
She succumbed to temptation for the last time.
She placed her hand on his heart and apologized. Then her boyfriend had come bearing the news that he was hired and offered her a ride to practice, and she denied Puck his chance.
Now, sitting on his lap, she denies being touched by his Puck's actions. She denies feeling a fluttering in her stomach at Puck's expression when he learned it was a girl. She denies feeling Puck's heart beat faster under her fingers.
Before she can stop herself, she looks back at the man she left standing alone in the middle of the hallway to sit on a boy's lap. She sees the pained look of betrayal on his face. She sees the damage she's done. Most of all, she feels it.
She drops her head and draws in a deep breath. When she looks up with a well-practiced cold stare, she is surprised to be met with the backside of a Puck walking away. She denies that she feels pain in her heart. She denies his very existence.
When tomorrow comes around and Puck's not at school, she'll deny caring and causing it. When one week later comes around and Puck's still not at school, she'll deny caring and deny causing it. When one month later comes around and Puck's not at school, she'll deny caring and deny causing it. When one month and one day later Puck is at school, she'll deny the relief that floods her system to see him walking through the front doors and how her breathing quickens as he approaches her. She'll note how his eyes are hollowed and sunken in, surrounded by bags. She'll note his messy mop of hair, the lack of a Mohawk. She'll note his wrinkled shirt and worn jeans. She'll note his calm, calculated composure. When he gives her a huge envelope filled with the money he's spent the last month working for, she'll feel the tears welling up. When she opens her mouth to say anything, she'll be met with the sight of Puck walking out the door. When she peers in the envelope, she'll see a piece of paper.
I lied. I guess I am my father after all.
She'll read it and crumple to the floor. She'll ignore the voices of gossip and concern. She'll stare at his handwriting and realize what the denial has done to her. To him. She'll cry, but the tears won't bring him back. So she'll cope how she knows best.
AN: Boo. I haven't written in too long. My writing style is as awkward and crappy as ever now. Sigh. I blame school. Review Please!