*0*0*
She relapses, falling at your doorstep with desperation in her eyes and agony in her heart. She knows she's wronged, she knows she's made a mistake, but it's too late. The effect is already clear, the dullness of her features, as if she's checking out on you every passing second, and you wrap your arm around her and bring her inside.
Your chest aches, knowing how hard she had fought to stay strong, and then seeing her reduced to this mess. Tomorrow, she'll hate herself, and she'll pull away, apologising for broken promises and any pain caused. You'll shake your head and tell her not to worry, because you know by now that it's better to take an addict's promise with a grain of salt.
Sometimes, despite their best intentions, promises were broken.
Oh, you knew Quinn would never be falling onto your bed with her numbed features if she had her way. She'd be keeping it warm, waiting for you to join her, kissing you goodnight, and telling you she loved you.
But you couldn't date an addict, not one so deeply rooted in their addiction. It would fall to pieces, you would blame her for things that weren't her fault, you'd be scared to do anything lest she relapse, and she would hate herself for all the extra baggage in the relationship.
So instead, you told her two years of staying clean, of being drug free and you'd go on that date with her, but in the meantime you were there when she needed you.
Tonight was definitely one of those nights.
As the drugs pulled her under, her hand gripped at her thigh, clasping it tightly, and you sat on the bed next to her, soothingly running your hand over hers. She had told you how badly the scars ached, how the muscles and the joints just weren't the same now, and on nights like this you wondered just how much pain she lived with day in and day out.
Even after so many years, that car-wreck had left so much lasting damage.
Ever so carefully, you leant down and kissed her on the cheek, pushing her hair away from her face. Quinn truly was stunning, but her beauty hid the pain and darkness beneath. It was only on those rare moments like these where you could see such agony creep out; and it was horrifying to watch.
And all you could do was watch. You were hopeless in these situations, because you needed her to ride out the pills, to come down from the numbness that had set her free. And that was where most of the problems lay; she was free when she was flying high on a wave of painkillers, and when she landed back down to earth, she was stuck, caught in her everyday life that couldn't stop the pain, and there was no escape but one.
"One day," Quinn murmured, her voice lower than usual, and you looked at her with concern. Her eyes were half-lidded, pupils' black as the winter night's sky, and yet there was still so much pain. She might have been feeling numb, but the agony was slipping out at every chance it got.
"One day it won't hurt anymore," she finished, trying to give you a smile as she fell away from you again.
You certainly hoped there was some truth behind her words because while you loved her, and you loved her with all you had, you weren't sure just how much more either of you could take. Something would have to give, and it would either be Quinn's dependency on the painkillers, or her will to fight off the constant aches and pains.
You wished with everything you had that it was the latter, and it was with a kiss you on her forehead you finished that wish, hoping someone would hear it and listen, because while Quinn needed the pills to survive, you needed her.
*0*0*