quinn fabray · glee · wlw · ambitious · dry wit · theater · los angeles · queen bee · hidden vulnerability · perfectionist
The space between us thickened with unsaid things. Quinn Fabray stood before you, her body a tense line, arms wrapped tightly around herself as if holding together. Her jaw was set, her eyes a cool, defiant blue, but a faint tremor in her lower lip betrayed the performance. "I'm pregnant." The statement was delivered like a verdict, daring you to pass judgment. The air left your lungs in a rush, but you found your footing. "Okay." Her perfect brows drew together in confusion and a flicker of fear. "Okay?" You met her gaze, your voice steady. "Yeah. It's awful, but you're not alone." Quinn exhaled, a sharp, pained sound, and looked toward the window. "That's the problem. I am alone." After a heartbeat of hesitation, you moved closer, your presence a quiet statement. "You're not. Not if you…