Carrie sorts them out one at a time to make sure they're right, eight piles of eight. She likes that they let her do this on her own, that they trust her. One pile she takes and the other seven go in their slots. This is one element of privacy that she's grateful for.
She ponders her day, thinking of something to do. They had told her she should start packing as she was leaving soon. It would good a good activity to keep her moving, so she does. In the middle of it, she hears the door knocking knowing exactly who was at the other end.
Carrie wraps her dainty arms around him and locks them the best she can. She takes in his scent each time she does. The faintest smell of cologne lingers from when he put in on eight hours ago, taking it in as if it would be the last time she sees him. He'd been taking such good care of himself just as she was.
Quinn always tries his best to not hold on too tight. It's a constant worry in his mind that he'll accidentally hurt her, so instead he holds on longer, though every moment he fears her knees might just buckle and he's ready if it happens. In his mind he counts down the days until she can leave and he can see her everyday.
He slowly backs away and the glimmer in his eyes is still there. It has been so hard for her to accept that this is what he wants - to be with her - not some obligation. The thought boggles her mind, but she been looking at herself differently too, because it's not just Quinn who's seeing it. He's not the only one who has a smile on his face when they see her.
"One week," she reminds him, as if it wasn't a staple in his head already.
He smiles anyways knowing she had to say it and he doesn't mind at all.
"Sit," she says.
"I heard... that you had a visitor yesterday," he says.
"What, you stalking my family now creep?" She teases he, raising a brow.
"Maybe. Your sister said she wants to keep me."
"Well I don't share."
"You share Franny," he jokingly accuses her.
"Tell me about it," she laughs. "Yesterday I had to pry her out of everyone's arms. They said they didn't want to give her back."
"And what did you say?"
"Sure, why not?" Their laughter continues.
Quinn stays pretty quiet for a moment, but a good quiet. He's content right where he is.
"Hey do you want to go to frozen dreams?" She proposes.
"Ice cream?"
She nods.
"They closed right after Labor day. I took her there a few weeks ago when it was still warm and they were closed."
"Shit!" She sighs. "I don't care how cold it is. I still want it."
"We could go to the grocery store."
She hasn't been in public in four months and she hasn't really thought about it either.
"Yeah, yeah let's go," she agrees. A good walk should do her some good too.
He drives her there, but senses concern in her eyes - though she denies it. They walk in and she looks around like it's a giant indoor city. She focuses on each step, determined to reach her destination.
"You okay?" He finally asks.
"Yeah, fine."
He can see it though, how overwhelmed she looks. All of these people rushing around on a busy Saturday afternoon. They all have their lives down, and to her, her new life is just beginning. Assimilating was going to take some time.
She treads at a decent pace, not quite up to speed, yet not sinking. The kid behind her doesn't seem to think so, huffing even though the traffic is heavy as it is. Carrie can hear him, but refuses to pay attention. Quinn can hear him too, and holds her hand to give her a boost until they make it to the next aisle.
"Fucking pokey," the kid says to his friend. "Gimpy here in front of us."
Quinn clenches his teeth, ready to beat the shit out of the potential victim behind them.
A few seconds later, the kid gives her a quick shove and she starts going down until Quinn quickly intervenes, breaking her fall. Quinn turns around so quickly, she didn't even see it happen. He uses his body to slam the teenager to the shelf, knocking countless items over, and Carrie knows what's coming and she can't stop it. They've unknowingly awaken the beast.
She closes her eyes for a second, and Quinn is only staring into his eyes with that icy gaze he gets when he's about to snap someone in two. It's Quinn the assassin. Soon enough his hands will be around his neck or his fist will pound so hard into this boy's face that it will look the a murder scene. But then it doesn't. Quinn just continues to stare into his eyes, and the boy looks like he ready to vomit, knowing he made his biggest mistake yet. Knowing that Quinn was literally the last person on the planet that he should be fucking with right now.
"Get the fuck away from her," Quinn finally says, quietly letting him go. He takes a second to breathe after releasing him before seeing if she's okay.
Carrie's beyond relieved that Quinn didn't do anything and she can hardly say anything.
"Mint?" Is all she asks.
"Sure."
"What do you live here?" She asks as she finally sees his frequently visited motel room across the street.
"Sometimes," he admits.
"Thanks... for not doing anything back there."
"Fuck em'," he brushes it off, sitting next to her on the bed.
"No Quinn, I know how hard it is... for you."
"I wanted to fucking kill him."
"But you didn't."
"He hurt you," Quinn reminds her.
"I'll live."
And it's this exact reason why he didn't do it. If she could get better than so can he. As she looks straight ahead, he swoops in to tilt her face back towards him.
"I can't do this without you."
She'd known it all along, but it was different now that he's saying it out loud. Soon enough his mouth naturally clings to hers and his body immediately reacts to the need. No longer can he savor their slow kisses. It's the devouring that he craves. He's scatter brained, trying to channel what she's thinking, knowing that it's close.
Despite what he's thinking, she senses how calm and patient he's being - though his breath is more heated than usual. A match waiting submissively for it's chance to ignite. His limp hands roam from her hair to her cheek, creating vibrant sensations impossible to ignore.
She pushes at his chest, forcing their lips apart, but doesn't let go of the fabric of his shirt. Instead she tugs it upward and he does the rest. When they are both bare, finally ready, he falters. She sees why and calls him out.
"Quinn, I'm fine. You're not going to break me."
He trembles as he gently lays her down, still weary about causing her harm. For the time being, he lies next to her propping up his head, not yet touching her, just admiring her form. She takes his hand for him, guiding it towards her, enticing his diluted anticipation.
His hand molds to her, and once it's there he can't stop. Kneading and rubbing every inch of her, he looms above her now. The massage is satisfying, a good start.
He leans forward above her, placing a hand over each nipple. Two fingers slide side by side, pulling and twisting them slightly, creating just the right amount of desired fiction. Her eyes roll back now and guttural moans are released over and over, her mouth agape. His dexterity favorable in every act he does. The louder and more frequently she moans, the more his cock aches, a pulsing premonition. As she loosens, he becomes more and more stiff. This was certainly different than their time before because she wants this too.
He abandons her when her pleasure is just too much. His cock needs to be nurtured and soon. When he tilts her to her side, he runs his hands ever so delicately down her spine to provoke any sign of pain. Instead it sends a tingle like she'd never felt before.
"Do it again," she says.
Quinn goes in the opposite direction this time, hoping to get a more vocal reaction this time - which he does. His abdomen presses against her back, aligning himself up to her, his hardness throbbing against her slit. He takes one arm under her between her and the sheets, wrapping it around her to hold her steady. The other hand comes around her to feel her heat, and the surge is mutual.
When he pushes her top leg forward, he enters her slowly from behind. His hips rock gently into her, moving with ease giving how wet she is. A gentle rhythm of shallow, then deep thrusts permeate, sending a blaze to her core.
"Ugh, yeah Quinn."
She reaches behind her, feeling his face close to her scalp. There no need to see his face as she can feel his raptured facial expressions taking over. It's almost hard for her to believe that he could be this sensual without being a complete animal.
It's not slow and torturous like she anticipated, but endearing. His heavy breathing turns into grunts, as he attempts to hold her closer to his body. Every time he rolls his hips against her backside, the flame grows bigger, stronger, his whole body shaken erratically by pleasure spasms. Yet he manages to keep it a tender pace.
She can feel his heart racing so quickly against her back that it's practically vibrating. The need to move her hips becomes a necessity, even just a little bit. When she starts moving he stops, buried deep inside of her fearing the worst. She continues stirring his member, rousing him all over again.
"Keep going," she assures him anyways.
The acute sensitivity is alluring, stimulating each others desires. Their skin becomes slippery against one another, as the sweat between them doesn't have the room to evaporate. They can't even recognize each other voices with the sounds they're making, and they don't really care either. She tightens around him, legs are wobbling, but makes sure to keep moving. Though his cock is throbbing so much, there's hardly a need for him to move for the pleasure to pervade.
The transformation is complete when he fills her completely while flickering a single finger delicately across her clit. She quivers in bliss, fluttering sensations spread throughout. He's still moving deep inside her, making the pleasure almost painful. Like a welcomed seizure, her convulsions are impossible to stop.
As she shutters he can't stop his own release. He's firmly wedged, groaning with the intense wave of gradification, flooding with satisfaction. Their bodies shiver together after the relentless amount of heat between them. She shakes in his arms as he slides out of her, but the recovery is quick.
He kisses the back of her head and they don't exchange any words. She wonders how her life would be had she met him sooner, and he's thinking the exact same thing. Their futures dependent on each other.
Days go by and he's gone back home. He doesn't feel right bringing her home without Franny and she agrees. But his absence takes an unexpected turn.
As happy as she's been, suddenly anxiety takes over. When he leaves, her minds drifts into the abyss of territory that she's tried so hard to fight off. Her own homecoming, which is suppose to bring her joy is only spiraling into a tunnel of doubt. That she doesn't deserve what she has coming and she's not sure how to maintain it.
She lies awake all night debating her futile apprehension, really starting to convince herself it's all in her head. Let down by so many for so long, maybe this really is her chance. Maybe it just took this long and she just has to accept that. Now she's mad at herself for even thinking that it was all a lie, because it's not. Just the last shred of doubt for total reconciliation to happen.
It's late now, around two in the morning, just starting to let herself rest and her phone vibrates. Quinn had already called to say goodnight, though she's sure it's him again.
Quinn isn't calling though, it's Saul. He's in a place where she's disconnected herself from and can't picture herself again. But when she ignores his call, he calls again. What could he possibly want from her anyways?
The vibrating doesn't stop and she has to force herself to answer it.
"Hello?"
"Carrie? Did I wake you?"
"No... what do you want Saul?"
"How are you?"
"I'm fine. I'm leaving here in a few days."
"Wow, that's fantastic!" He's utterly surprised.
"Saul, it's late here."
"I know. I know. It's just-"
And those two words capture her full attention. She really wants to know.
"Just what?!" She presses.
"There are some documents missing. We're cleaning the place up and I was wondering if you could help me out?"
She'd forgotten of course, but she knows exactly what he's talking about.
"I know where they are." She tells him.
"Tell me."
"I can't."