-- ɴᴏ ʀᴇꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪᴄᴋᴇᴅ.
→ @vc-valentin
Truthfully, Q was probably coming back into work much earlier than his injuries warranted, but feeling so idle and useless didn’t sit well with him at all. Even Quinn--- who was responsible for this whole fucking mess, thank you very much--- felt restless not being able to attend class, instead opting to submit all of his assignments from home. And so, as always, Q had been the one to make the hard decision to just bite the bullet and waltz on into G.H.O.S.T HQ anyway, ignoring the dull thrum of pain from his back whenever his sweatshirt brushed against the burns. It would have been smart to wrap his entire torso in gauze, probably. But then again, Quinn was wincing somewhere in the back of his mind at the pain, and anything he could do to get back at the faerie for that whole fiasco was worth it in his book.
He’d pulled the hood up on his oversized hoodie, trying to deter the eyes on him as he walked the halls, but it seemed like his body was a beacon, screaming “haha look at me, I’m that one dumbass who nearly killed himself with a bomb that he helped set up”. Fucking Quinn. Couldn’t stop tarnishing his reputation. Heading straight for the break room, he began to make a cup of coffee with something like tunnel vision, blatantly opting to ignore his surroundings in hopes that the feeling of prying eyes would go away. Though, when he turned around to find a friendly face staring back at his, the whole ‘ignore the rest of the world’ plan sort of flew out the window. Well, as friendly as Val’s face could be. More like friendly but masked meticulously over with annoyance.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Q eventually let out, breaking the silence.
