“Can I-” she asks, voice practically breaking as she stifles it quickly. Clearing her throat before trying to continue but not being able to. It’s hard, throat scratchy from screaming not too long before, body aching from the impact. She shook her head, mindlessly rubbing her arm, “No, no, I’m not. It’s really cold out here, would you- mind if I come in?”
“No, yeah, come on in. My house is your house.”
The knot in Quinn’s stomach curls and uncurls. They’ve had nights like these before, of course, and this is nothing more but solemn repetition. But he doesn’t enjoy seeing her like this. He never will, as long as he knows her.
“So, do you wanna talk about it, or –– you can watch TV with me. It’s just Wheel of Fortune, but…I don’t know. It’s good to blank out sometimes.”
