hey do you think Darlin' misses Quinn?
that may sound stupid and wrong but how big part of their life was his bastard ass? Even if it was only months, the stain for sure lingers. Maybe at the corner of their eyes, thinking they saw his shadow. Maybe in the way that Sam's feet sometimes make the wood creak when he goes for a glass of water in the middle of the night. Maybe in the way the cold air hits their face, biting at sore lips they keep biting, teeth digging into the flesh, a bad habit.
Quinn cursed their existence and tainted their head with not only pain, toxic thrill a young rebellious wolf may want to run after, but also memories no one is ever able to erease fully.
And it's not missing as in longing. But do you think they could go back on the memory lane as they lay awake on the bed, sheets pooling around their waist and tired eyes staring at the ceiling, heart beating just a little bit faster as they remember what trouble they got into for the questionable praise he offered?
Do you think they expect him to come back because he always does, whether in his own rotten flesh or in flashbacks, because life was too calm for too long and nothing in their life can be too calm for too long? Do you think they recall their name, nauseating taste on their tongue, as they dread the next morning? Maybe he will send a text, ominous message lighting up the screen of their cracked phone. Maybe he will leave a note on the doormat, or maybe he was watching them through the window as they trashed in their sleep, chest rising erratically as nightmares plague their mind yet again. Never a reprieve to their tortured soul, never a slither of peace if Sam wasn't there to lend his magic. Be it a warm hug, a soft kiss or a promise that everything was okay.
Quinn never gave them that. His embraces were almost desperate on their part, clinging to something they thought of being enough while in reality, it wasn't even close. His skin was cold, he slept shirtless and he smelled of cigarettes but in their early days, it was comforting. Reality can be perfect if you keep lying to yourself long enough, and for how long they kept lying that it was what they wanted? The ratty old matress because none of them cared enough for a proper accommodation. The dust on the unused furniture, the hands that held them by his hip, the bone poking them in the stomach uncomfortably. But they stayed nonetheless, like a dog that clings loyally because he knows nothing else.
In some way, Quinn was their owner, tugging at the leash whenever he pleased. And they came at his every recall, an obedient mutt, tail wagging despite their head being bowed low. He would whisper in low voice, that they could leave anytime they wished to, but both of them knew it was a lie. They wouldn't dare.
Do you think when they sit alone on the edge of the roof, something that Sam forbade them of but they didn't listen, they call for his name to the wind, waiting for an answer because he used to answer every time? It was them reaching out, pleading to be let back in his graces because no one else wanted to take them in. Stray, lost lamb to the slaughter that was his affection.
do you think they are really over him? Or maybe when they saw his face on the other side of the glass, something felt right because it was always bound to happen, sooner or later? They were meant for each other, not in the good soul mate way. They were meant to be like a plague is paired with anguish, fever with cold sweat and sharp teeth with tongue that occasionally gets bitten.
do you think Sam notices that glazed look they sometimes get in their eyes, as they dismiss his questions about it?
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