Author's Note: Instead of, you know, studying for finals this came out instead. Oops? Thank you all for your such kind words! :)
PS: The song lyrics from below belong to none other than Break Even by The Script. I don't own them! Though I wish I did. Sigh.
"Not today, Santana," Puck practically growled as he forcefully slammed his locker door shut. The beautiful brunette stood at his side, casually filing her nails while leaning against the cold hard metal of the neighboring locker. The sudden noise was enough to startle her, though, and she straightened up with a jolt. "Fine. I'll go find Brit instead. Don't be so damn touchy." With a roll of her eyes, the Cheerio tugged at the hem of her uniform top and pointedly wiggled her hips as she strutted away. A year ago, this seductive movement would have distracted Puck's gaze 'til her ass disappeared out of sight. Things had changed.
It was all he could do not to punch the smirk off of Sam's face in Glee rehearsal earlier that day. Mr. Schuester had paired everyone off for some ever so rousing background swaying and romantic poses while Tina and Mike sang lead on the classic Nothing Compares 2 U by Sinead O'Connor. Most of the pairings weren't surprising: Finn and Rachel. Mercedes and Kurt. Brittany and Artie.
Last year it would've been Puck and Quinn. But this wasn't last year.
He tried not to sigh when Will pointed for Santana to move to his side, obviously leaving Sam and Quinn to their lovey-dovey spiel all over again. Just as he was about to roll his eyes and look away, Quinn's eyes caught his. They looked fragile, full of apologies and heartbreak. When Sam wrapped his arm around her waist, it was all she could do to tear her gaze away from the man who still held her heart. With a weak smile, she forced herself to avert her eyes toward the one guy who cared about his hair almost as much as Mr. Schu and Kurt combined. Oblivious, Sam grabbed both of Quinn's hands and linked his fingers in hers so he could pull her in for a chaste, but proud kiss.
Puck wanted to simultaneously throw up on Santana's shoes and break Sam's nose for holding one of the two people in the world he cared about most – the other, of course, being Beth who was heavens knows where with Shelby Corcoran. He couldn't have both of them, and now he couldn't have either of them and it absolutely killed him on the inside. Some would claim he never had a soul in the first place, but he did – and it was being crushed into little pieces day after day.
Those were supposed to be his hands on her hips. He was supposed to be the one to lean in close, kiss her on the brow, and wiggle his eyebrows mischievously. Only Puck was allowed to tangle his fingers into the blonde curls of Quinn's ponytail and ruffle her hair playfully, just to make her smile. But there that lemon-juice bastard was, doing all the little things that Puck missed doing so very, very dearly.
"What's your deal, Puckerman?" Santana inquired, quirking a mildly concerned brow. "I don't like this romantic shit either, but—" Puck lifted a hand, waving it dismissively to cut her off. "It's nothing, I just hate this song." But really? Honestly? He didn't.
Although technically Puck was supposed to be at football practice, he called in sick. His heart was sick, if nothing else. With his hands shoved into his pockets, he found himself wandering through an almost eerily abandoned McKinley hallway, just past the choir room. Finding the lights off and the door conveniently unlocked, he took one glance over his shoulder before slipping inside. While he had a reputation to maintain in the other rooms at school, this was the one room he could let his guard down a little. Finding his guitar and an empty stool, he began lightly strumming and singing in the dimly lit room.
'Cause when a heart breaks, no it don't break even
Her best days will be some of my worst
She finally met a man that's gonna' put her first
While I'm wide awake she's no trouble sleeping
'Cause when a heart breaks, no it don't break even, even, no
And just like any good romantic cliché, Quinn happened to find herself in front of the doorway, idly searching for the binder she had left in the choir room since practice. The door was cracked open, yet she found herself frozen where she stood, unable move a muscle let alone even attempt to enter the room.
What am I supposed to do
When the best part of me was always you and
What am I supposed to say
When I'm all choked up and you're okay
I'm falling to pieces, yeah, I'm fallin' to pieces
It's not like it was suddenly colder in the building. The air was quite toasty and warm, in fact. The air conditioning wasn't suddenly being blasted, nor were the doors leading outside at the end of the hall being opened all at once. Those chills running up Quinn Fabray's spine were completely unrelated to any temperature issue.
They say bad things happen for a reason
But no wise words gonna' stop the bleeding
'Cause she's moved on while I'm still grieving
And when a heart breaks, no it don't break even, even, no
Oh goodness, could Puck sing. It melted Quinn's heart every single time he opened his mouth to project those soulful notes. His back was turned to her, which made it easier for her to summon up the courage to step into the choir room without having to look him in the eye.
You got his heart and my heart and none of the pain
You took your suitcase, I took the blame
Now I'm tryin' to make sense of what little remains, oh
'Cause you left me with no love and no love to my na—
There were more words to the song, but the sudden, gentle hand on his shoulder cut Puck off completely. While it took a lot to scare the Puckasaurus, this came way too damn close for comfort.
Just as soon as her fingertips met the soft fabric of his t-shirt, pangs of guilt stabbed through her slender limbs. "Sorry," she said both quickly and quietly, beginning to pull away 'til his calloused fingers settled atop her tiny hand and kept it pressed to his shoulder. For a moment, their fingers entwined, fitting together just as perfectly as they always had. "Don't be," he muttered in a low tone, sounding almost more sad than angry, even though both feelings were tied head-to-head in his mind.
"I'm not okay either," she murmured in reference to his heartfelt lyrics, after what felt like a century of silence passes by. All he could do was nod.
Like a bolt of lightning, Quinn thrust out an arm to snatch her binder off the nearby chair and ran out the door as if being chased by the demons from her nightmares. Several slips of paper fell out, scattering to the floor. There for her as always, Puck crouched down to gather them just as he tried to put her heart back together.
"What—" slipped past his lips in a hastened mumble, his eyes widening as the words on the page began to process just as the sound of Quinn's footsteps began to fade away further down the hallway…
AN: And thiiiiiiis is where I make myself study some more. Cliffhanger, bwaha! I appreciate any thoughts you might have!