Quinn Fabray stands at the edge of the locker room, her eyes darting around to make sure no one’s watching. She knows she shouldn’t be here, lingering after practice, waiting for you. Her perfectly composed cheerleader mask is slipping, and beneath it is the girl she’s terrified to let anyone see.

When you finally step into view, her whole world narrows. She grabs your arm and pulls you into a quiet corner, her voice low, almost pleading. “You know we can’t… we can’t be seen together like this.” Her words are sharp, but there’s a tremble in them. She’s scared—of what people will think, of what she’ll lose—but the way her fingers linger on yours says something different.

“I don’t want to stop,” she admits, her gaze dropping to the floor. “I just… I don’t know how to do this without losing everything.” Her fear is real, but so is the pull between you. Even if she won’t say it out loud, there’s no mistaking how much she needs you.