A/N: This is basically me letting my mind wander.
They were not really together. Or maybe they were. He had no idea. All he knew is that he was there for her. He had to. She had no one else. Of course he had told her he loved her and she didn't say it back. He didn't mind though, he had said it because that's how he felt, not to force her into saying it back. Things could not be that easy between them. It would not be them.
It had become a habit for him to just show up at her house. She had moved back with her mom and the two Fabrays had quickly returned to their respective routines. Puck thought the two of them looked more like roomates than to a mother and daughter but he kept that to himself. There was no need to add fuel to that fire. Judy Fabray would open the door and let him in, usually without a word, and he would go straight to Quinn's room which she never left these days.
His sight when opening the door was always the same, the curtains closed, leaving the room in a dark and gloomy atmosphere and she would be curled up on her bed, crying. He had his ritual, he would close the door behind him, go straight to the window to let some light in and then lay beside her on her bed. He didn't say anything. He would not have known what to say to comfort her anyway. Therefore he did the only thing he could do, hold her, waiting for her to calm down.
After a few days, he noticed there were fewer sobs and after a couple of weeks she finally spoke to him.
"Do you think it'll get better?" She didn't bother looking at him. She kept staring into the empty space of her room, her back facing him.
"I don't know." What else could he say? He was always honest with her. "But they say time heal everything, or some similar shit, so… maybe." He couldn't see her face but she was probably rolling her eyes at his last remark. That's all he managed to get from her that day.
"Do you think about her a lot?" she asked some day as he had just entered her room.
That day the sun was bathing the room, her bed was neatly made and she was sitting indian style on it. He sighed deeply, running his hand through his short buzzed hair.
"Do I ever not think about her?" he smiled sadly and sat beside her on her bed.
She simply nodded, then both remained silent.
"You're cheating." She simply stated.
"How could I cheat when I don't even know half of the rules?" He retorted.
"Why did you accepted to play chess with me then?" she asked in disbelief.
To that he just shrugged which brought the tiniest smile to her lips. That was the first time in weeks a smile graced her beautiful face. He thought that this time thing probably was right.
"How come you never pronounce her name?" He knew he was taking a big chance with that question but it had been bugging him for a while. He saw her stiffen immediately at his words, but it was too late, the question was out there, he should as well try to get that answer. "I mean, the rare times you ever acknowledge Beth, it's always her or she."
She had stopped dead in her tracks at the mention of their daughter's name. The baby girl they gave away. She put away the book she had in her hands on her desk and went to sit on the bed, next to him, her legs hanging over the border. She contemplated for a moment how she could explain this – or if she even wanted to. But as she felt him shifting closer to her and looking at her, she felt he wouldn't let it go. "I just can't. It hurts too much." She was very conscious this wasn't enough. "It may sound like I'm some cold-hearted bitch or something but I need to detach myself, I need to move on. I may not be able to forget her, ever, but I need to let her go, in every sense of the word. Otherwise I will simply disintegrate. Please don't judge me for that" She gave him a weak smile after those last words.
"You're not a cold-hearted bitch." He placed his strong arm around her shoulders. "Well, sometimes you are. But not in that particular situation." He joked to release the tension that had filled the room. She shuckled and pretended to slap him. "But seriously, what you did took a great amount of courage and…. love. We gave her away so she can have a chance at a better life than what we could offer her. Never sell yourself short for that." With that being said he kissed the top of her head.
She pulled away slowly and pressed her lips lightly against his for a mere second. "Thank you." She simply said. "What for?" he asked. "For holding me when I was hurting, for being here when I am broken. For understanding."
He smiled to her. "Anytime babe."
"How about those?" he motions toward a big pile of books next to her bed stand. "To keep, give or throw away?"
"Umm, lemme look." Quinn was currently in a cleaning spree and Puck had been unwillingly recruited to help. "To keep, definitely."
He took a quick look at some of the books as he was putting them in the box labeled "to keep". Some of the titles were familiar as they had been school assignments – didn't mean he had read them though – some seemed totally peculiar to him. But they all had one thing in common; they all had their own bookmark. Some she had obviously made herself, he recognized her drawing style, some she had probably bought, and the rest were movie theatre tickets, random notes or pictures. Something else grabbed his attention. "How come all your bookmarks are located on the last chapter's first page?"
"Because this is the pile of my favorite books." Her answer was short.
He thought for a second. "How is that an answer to my question?"
She sighed. "Those are the stories I don't want to see ending."
"It doesn't make any sense, Q."
"It makes all the sense in the world Puck."
"Aren't you curious to know how it ends?"
"Not as much as I want to keep the story alive."
He frowned even more and she knew she had to go on. "Once you finish the last word of the last sentence of the last chapter, it's just over. There's no way back, it's carved in stone." She saw he was thinking about it but remained skeptical. "It's just that I prefer keeping all the options open for the characters, as they say the journey is more important than the destination."
"I thought you chicks liked to have your happy endings or whatever?"
"Us chicks?" she raised an eyebrow at him and he knew that was never a good sign.
"Uh, I didn't mean it like that. You know like they lived happily ever after in all those fairytales Hannah made me watch with her."
She smiled, remembering those moments when she lived at his place and she had seen him first hand watching those movies with his little sister. Of course he had made her promise never to tell, he would always deny it anyway. "Happily ever after? Aren't those the saddest three words ever? When I read this, all I see is: after going through all those incredible events and twists and turns, nothing major happened. I prefer thinking they had an amazing adventurous life full of up and downs. It feels more real you know. That's what I wish to my favorite characters, to be alive."
"Happy does not mean alive for you?" He asked.
"I don't know, it seems such a generic word, I'm not sure what it means."
"You're crazy, Q." He shook his head.
"There's no such thing as happy endings, only unfinished stories." She declared as a conclusion to their discussion, resuming folding the clothes stacked on her bed.
As summer rolled to an end their daily routine was going strong. Quinn was reading a book lying on her bed while Puck was playing some game on his phone. He thought her book must have been mediocre because she was reading the last pages. A moment later she closed it.
"You finished it" he said leaving his eyes on his screen.
"Yes, it was too obvious, no space for imagination" she sounded bored. "Puck?"
"Hummm?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure." He paused his game and looked up at her – he was lying on his stomach on the opposite side of the bed. She looked preoccupied now.
"What are we doing exactly?"
"Like right now?" he knew that's not what she meant but he dreaded the conversation he knew was ahead of them.
She ignored it. "You've been here for me. I don't know how I could have done it without you." She thought for a moment, how could she put this? "I just don't want to lead you on. I can't do that to you."
He rose from his spot and went to sit next to her. "What are you saying?"
She took a deep breath as she suddenly felt she was lacking air. "I know you should be expecting some kind of… relationship between us." Her eyes had now dropped to her hands, as she could not look at him in the eyes "I can't give that to you."
"But I've never pressured you into…" He tempted.
"I know, I know!" she interrupted him immediately, placing her hand on his cheek. "You've been nothing short of amazing to me this summer. It's just that I feel that I need to focus back on myself for a little while. Get myself together. I think you should… move on. You shouldn't wait for me to be ready, it might take a while… I'm sorry."
"Don't." He kissed her temple lightly, she closed her eyes. He was crushed of course, but it didn't taste like an end to him, she needed time, he'll give that to her. "You know I'll always keep an eye on you from afar". She smiled sweetly.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence he gathered his stuff. Reaching for the door he turned around to add a last thing. "We're like one of those books, aren't we?" She gave him a puzzled look. "Maybe one day you'll find the courage to find out how it ends." He smiled at her and turned away.
She looked at the series of books now neatly arranged on a shelf Puck had put up on the wall. "I surely hope so".
end
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