it was midnight, you and quinn have been fighting all day. you’d think he would’ve just dropped whatever happened the night prior but no. his parents on the soft, plush couch in the lake house living room, mostly all of his friends and brothers outside around the fire pit. you gently place the cookie dough into the cookie sheet, ignoring quinn’s rough presence near you in the kitchen. you hear a murmur, having enough you finally decide to say something.