make you miss me • q. hughes

27

quinn
Hey
What ya up to?

scout
wow
was starting to think you lost your phone
or something

quinn
I thought about it

scout
me too
between your brothers and my brothers
i'm going insane
not to mention everyone else

quinn
Can I come over?

scout
yeah
door will be unlocked

* * * * *

If you told me a year ago that I would be seeing anything even slightly domestic feeling with an NHL player or anyone for that matter, I'd laugh in your fucking face. Right now though... Quinn coming into my apartment and not even thinking twice about putting his keys in the bowl, his jacket on the coat hanger, and slipping his shoes off is very domestic feeling. I don't know. That's the only word that comes to mind.

He shuffles into the living room where I'm half sitting half laying on the couch. My back's against one end of the middle section of it, and my legs stretching out across the cushions. Wait, what the hell? He has dark bags under his eyes. Intense ones. The man looks downright dejected.

"Hey, when was the—"

He sighs. "Can I just?" I'm not sure what he's asking permission for until his head is resting on my stomach, partially on my chest and one of my legs has to move to the side in order to not be crushed under the rest of him.

"You okay?" I say. When he walked in, I had a book but it's long discarded next to us. My hands run through his hair.

"I'm sorry."

Is now a bad time to state that I'm not the best with others' emotions? Or even mine? Has that been obvious? "For what?"

"The stupid tapping thing and the stupid fight," he grumbles. "I shouldn't have done any of it. It was stupid."

"It was a little stupid, sure." I don't give a fuck about the dumb thing at the game. "You been sleeping well, Huggy?"

The nickname seems to make him remember something. His arms kind of just force their way under me, wrapping himself around my torso as best he can. It's not that comfortable but I think I might let him have this one.

"You aren't losing sleep over this are you?"

He hums. "No. We had a long flight and I didn't sleep well 'cause of turbulence."

"What'd he say to you?" My words make him tense up, the hold on me getting slightly tighter.

"It doesn't matter."

"It must've if you got so worked up."

"Dude's a pest."

I tug at his hair slightly, teasing him. "What'd he say?"

"Shit about you," he says.

"Oh."

"I don't remember fully. There was something about how he'd gladly take your number and some dumb shit about how I couldn't handle you like he could." He sounds like he remembers fully. "I don't know. Doesn't matter."

I'm not sure if I should be honored or even more annoyed at his stupidity. Seriously? That was it? Some shit about me? He's lucky they went on the road for a few days because if I had to see the bruise that dude gave him I'd be even more annoyed.

"Are you mad?" Quinn asks quietly.

"I think it was a bad move," I admit. "On your part."

"Seriously?"