Quinn's hazel eyes fluttered open gracefully as she rolled over in an unfamiliar bed. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, before running her fingers through her perfectly tousled hair. She yawned and glanced to her left, seeing Puck lying lazily next to her. She smiled to herself, then proceeded to blink several times to make sure it wasn't a dream.

She slid back down on her pillow and gazed up at the ceiling.

"Morning," Said a groggy, but undeniably sexy voice. Quinn rolled slightly so she was resting on her right side, gazing into Puck's gradually opening eyes. Her smile grew bigger, then so did his.

"I like waking up next to you." She breathed.

"I like waking up to you too." His dorky smile appeared again, a smile that only formed when Quinn was around. He gulped nervously, but bravely formed the words that she wasn't expecting. "I love you, Quinn." For a brief moment, fear filled deep inside her. It was fast for him to say something like that. But after the brief moment of realisation that she felt the same way, a feeling of warmth spread throughout her.

"I love you too." That was the first time she'd ever told anyone she loved them, or at least the first time she truly meant it.

"Wanna get breakfast?"

"Definitely."

Their smiles broadened as they sat up. Puck had never taken a girl to breakfast. Either because she didn't eat, or she couldn't wait to do the walk of shame and get back to a long list of boys waiting to sleep with her.

Quinn had never been asked to breakfast before. Certainly not after spending the night at a guy's house.

She swivelled to the side and stood up, quickly making sure she had some kind of clothing on. She stood with her back to Puck, in only a bra and underwear. Even though she had slept with him the night before, she still wasn't that confident with her body.

Strangely, when she got in Puck's apartment last night, she found a bundle of clothes in front of his apartment door labelled 'For When You Get Lucky'. She guessed it was Mercedes.

She pulled on her red checked shirt and quickly buttoned it up.

"Can you throw me my jeans?" Puck was sat upright on the bed, with the duvet still wrapped round him. Quinn searched the floor, but couldn't see his dark blue jeans. That was until she lifted up the bottom corner of the duvet and saw what he was looking for. She laughed and tossed them to him, then continued to pull on her own jeans, and button them.

He stood up facing Quinn, holding his jeans up to straighten them out, ready to put them on.

"Oh my gosh," Quinn's jaw dropped. "What happened to your chest?"

Puck shot her a quizzical look, but immediately glanced down and saw a large purple bruise on his upper right chest, and another slightly smaller bruise on his lower left.

"Oh, it's nothing." He shook his head and quickly reached to his left to pick up his shirt.

"That's not nothing." She was still in shock. She crawled across the bed to reach him and carefully placed her hands on his bruised body. She gently rubbed her thumb over the coloured areas and watched his face as he winced slightly at the touch. "When did this happen?" She was in so much confusion. She didn't remember seeing them last night, so the only explanation was that it happened shortly before he came home and the bruise was only just coming out.

"Last night," He answered coolly, attempting to un-crease his shirt. But Quinn wasn't letting it go this easily. She took the shirt out of his hands and tossed it aside.

"Why? Why… did this happen?"

"Just a bar fight, it's nothing… honestly."

She saw a hesitation and immediately didn't believe his story. She didn't break the gaze as she reached down for his hand. After pulling it up, she examined his knuckles; unscathed.

"You didn't hit him back?"

"No."

"Are you crazy?"

"What? Last time I punched a guy you said it was stupid!" He laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

"That's 'cos you knocked him out cold, and he didn't do… this to you." She gestured to his chest. "Who was it?"

"Does it really matter?" He sighed. "I'm fine."

"You're not. Who was it?" She persisted. He sighed again and sat next to her on the bed.

"Let's just say your father isn't quite as supportive of our relationship as we'd have hoped."

Her eyes widened, and she wasted no time in rolling off the bed, grabbing her phone and heading for the door.

"Quinn. Quinn, wait," Puck hopped to the door, trying to put his jeans on. But it was no use, by the time he had one leg in his jeans, Quinn was out the door.

She was fuming. Smoke was probably flying out of her ears, but at the speed she was running down the street, it dispersed into the air. She crossed the street, making dodging traffic her second priority at that point in time.

After another ten minutes of jogging and two missed calls from Puck, she finally reached her house. She pounded on the door until her mom confusedly pulled the door open.

"Quinnie," She said, relief and happiness in her voice. Quinn said nothing, but simply charged past her mother and stormed into the living room, where her father was sat on the armchair, reading the newspaper. He noticed her storming in and glanced up.

"Ah, Quinn. Have you now come to your senses and decided to come back-" He started, with same hint of arrogance in his voice that she hated.

"No. No, I haven't." She interrupted. "I've come to tell you that you can stop waiting, and hoping, because I am never coming back. I'm getting the rest of my stuff and I'm leaving. For good." She stormed back out the door and flew up the stairs to her bedroom. She flung the door open and immediately grabbed her suitcase from under her bed. Everything was how she left it.

Her mother and father charged up the stairs, attempting to stop her.

"Quinn, Quinnie please," Her mother begged.

"You're making a mistake, Quinn." Her father said boldly.

"No, the only mistake I made was actually thinking that you could change." She flung all the clothes from her wardrobe into her suitcase, then her laptop and remaining school books. She quickly pulled the zip round and lifted up the suitcase. "Stay the hell away from me and my relationship. Or I will call the cops and have you done for assault. I mean it." She pushed past her father and ran down the stairs to the door.

"You're going to leave your family behind for a boy?" Her father followed her.

"You're not my family. Puck is now." She heaved open the front door, but something caught her eye on the window ledge.

"Is that..." She saw the words 'YALE UNIVERSTITY' printed on the front and froze.

"Honey, your whole future is in that envelope." Her mother managed a smile as Quinn put her suitcase down and turned the envelope over, examining it closely.

But her mother was wrong. Quinn had a future. Whether it was in New Haven studying English Literature, or stuck in Lima. Two weeks ago, she would've thought that being stuck in Lima was a punishment, an idea that haunted her. But now, Lima felt more like home than ever. And the idea of staying there wasn't so terrifying. And she knew why. So, right then in that moment, it didn't matter what the words on the page were.

"Who knows? Your relationship might end sooner than you thought." The confident, assured voice rang though her ears, and she knew her dad felt a small piece of accomplishment.

"It's not gonna end. And sure, you'll probably call me naïve and foolish, - Hell, I'd probably call me that from an outside perspective. But whatever happens, I'm gonna try my damn hardest to make it work. And if I do get my heart broken, because as we all know I have before, I wouldn't give you the satisfaction of running back home." She shoved the envelope into a small opening in her suitcase and lugged it down the drive.

"Quinn, if you insist on leaving, I can assure you, you will not be welcomed back into this family." His firm voice followed her, and she could hear her mother softly start to cry.

"I'd call that a blessing." She turned and spat. "You know, I've finally realised why I'm such a screw-up." She smiled to herself. "It's because of you. Everything bad in my life that's every happened to me is because of you. So, once again, stay the hell away from me and Puck, or I will give him permission to kick your ass." As she turned back around and became out of sight from her parents, she felt free. She felt like she could do anything, like she wasn't being controlled for once in her life.

It was a strange feeling. It felt as though nothing in this point in time could bring her down. She was in love. Not seven-year-old love. Real love. And for once in her life, the thought of that didn't scare her.

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