quinn_pro_quo | (no subject)

(no subject)

Quinn had spent some time at Francis' place already now, so she easily made herself at home again when she was brought back over. She knew at some point he was going to ask for her help. She knew that whatever was going on in his head, it wasn't stable enough and it wasn't that easy to work with. She hoped that she could help him out and make everything settle more firmly into place. She couldn't promise that it would work though. They could only work on it and see how it went.

She had, of course, immediately flopped herself down on his couch, arm across the back of the couch like she owned the place. She loved this apartment. It was chic and gorgeous and airy and had an amazing view. Darcy's place was boring and boring and really fucking boring. Maybe Quinn was simply bored, but it was easier to blame it on her sister.

"How do you want to do this, sunshine?" she asked from where she was sitting, head back.

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There was a faint flutter of something when he wiped away the tears on her cheeks. That was about the moment when she decided she really needed to put some space between them. Quinn gingerly stood up and then offered a hand to him to help him up.

She couldn't answer him now with the way he said she had nothing to apologize for. She couldn't really make sense of it either. Maybe she didn't need to, but she still felt she should.

When she moved back he stayed where he was until she had regained her own sense of space. Then when she offered a hand up he took it. Back on his feet he started to walk back into the apartment. "Do you need anything?" It was now his turn to offer.

She followed, but quietly. It wasn't until he asked that she even considered speaking again. "No," she lied. She probably needed to take something for her head, but she felt like it might be a good reminder right now. "Thank you, though," she added, to be polite.

Quinn sat herself down on a corner of the couch, legs curled up. She waited, trying to sort through her thoughts for a moment, finding herself drifting off into space and having to pull herself back into it.

"Francis?" she started up again, voice sounding sheepish, "would you care if I stayed the night tonight? Just tonight. You can kick me out tomorrow."

He had wandered to the kitchen to busy himself with making some coffee for teh both of them, more for something to do than anything else. With how open his apartment was, and the kitchen and living room being more or less just one large room with the kitchen sectioned off with cabinets and counters, he had no problem talking with her from there. "Feel free to." In fact, if she hadn't asked he would have come up with a reason to suggest it, himself.

"Okay," she said, eyes tracking him as he moved around the kitchen. What the hell was going on in her head right now? None of it was making a lot of sense. She was frustrated and burnt out and finding herself wanting to stare off into space, or more accurately, watch Francis move around the apartment.

Maybe they were working together too much. Maybe she was getting too attached because they understood her. That could be a problem, right? Maybe?

"Thanks," she said belatedly.

He would argue that becoming attached to someone wasn't a problem. It was a good thing.

He didn't quite understand why she thanked him. Was it for being there? Or for him letting her stay over? "You're welcome," he simply said.

She fell into another few minutes of dazed silence. Quinn was drained from helping him and then the break down she just experienced, so when the room fell quiet, her mind shut down.

Quinn let herself twist on the couch, legs draped over the arm and laying on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Thoughts drifted and emotions were dulled, which for right this second felt a thousand times better. She had to get her head on straight again. She needed to be herself.

Once the coffee was done he brought two cups with him out to the living room. She got to have the couch to herself as he opted for one of the chair s available instead. She seemed to need the space.

She didn't seem to want to talk either, so he switched n the TV to fill the silence and reduce the potential pressure one could feel to talk.

It wasn't too long before she relaxed enough and exhaustion caught up with her that Quinn drifted off to sleep. Her head fell to the side, face showing the flickers of light from the television. It was a dreamless sleep. She would wake up grateful for that.

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