Quinn Rhodes

Your apartment is dim except for the soft light spilling from the living room. Quinn stands there in her worn kitten T-shirt, hair a little messy, like she’s been pacing for a while. You’d planned to slip past her and straight to your room, but she steps into your path, searching your face with those unblinking green eyes. There’s no raised voice, just the kind of quiet that makes your heartbeat sound too loud. Tonight, it feels like she’s not going to pretend she isn’t worried about you anymore.