Quinn doesn't mean to hover outside the bathroom door. Really, he doesn't. No matter what Olivia might say, he's not pervert. It's not as if he's standing there, hand down his pants, imagining girls in the shower, hot water flowing over every curve. Not at all. Well, maybe sometimes it's a little bit like that. But this time it's not. This time, he's captivated for an entirely different reason. There's a voice, quiet but clear and sweet as honey, coming from the bathroom. It's like nothing that Quinn has ever heard before.
His thoughts are soon interrupted.
"Quinn?"
The door swings open, and Quinn immediately flushes. The steam rushes out of the bathroom, enveloping his body, clad only in his swim trunks. Paula is fresh-faced, cheeks red from the shower. She's changed into her pyjamas, a thin spaghetti strap singlet and small shorts. A white towel is wrapped around her , much to Quinn's annoyance, she doesn't seem surprised at all to see him there.
"Were you—were you standing here the whole time?" Paula's brow is furrowed. "Jesus, Quinn. That's so fucking creepy."
She pushes past him without giving him the opportunity to explain himself, mumbling under breath as she leaves.
"I didn't—! I wasn't—!" He splutters his way through his excuses. "It was your singing, I swear."
It's enough to make her pause. "My singing?"
"It was beaut—" He cuts himself off. "It sounded good."
"Oh. Thanks." Paula blinks. Her head is tilted to the side. For a moment, she even looks a bit embarrassed. "I didn't think anyone could hear me."
"Yeah."
She bursts into a wide grin. "You're still a fucking weirdo. Seriously, Quinn. So gross."
And with that, Paula disappears and leaves Quinn, mouth agape, staring after her. The moment passes so quickly that Quinn, for a second, wonders if it had even happened at all.
Later, he does think of her. He's a teenage boy—of course he thinks of her. In her white singlet and cotton shorts...he thinks of her. Still, it's a surprise even to him when he finds that her image fills his mind, it's her voice that consumes him. It's her voice that keeps him up at night.
It's Paula. Every time he closes his eyes, it's Paula, her hand on his cheek and her lips by his ear, singing sweet lullabies as he wills himself to sleep.