Queen of the Angels.
⋆ ⋆
Had Artie been your average, believing themselves to be “sympathetic” skeptic, he would’ve pooh-poohed at the idea of Quinn regaining limited leg ability so soon after accident. Sure, it had only been about a month. And sure, her sudden skill to walk was still painfully limited— but he was beyond proud, having witnessed the second first steps of his first, wholly loved girlfriend. Since both temporary paralysis and memory loss, Artie had wanted nothing more than for Q to get well; he offered encouragement, normally pessimistic views abandoned in support of his babe. He went along with her to countless physical therapy sessions, longing for progress— and now that he’d seen twice of what he’d originally wished, Artie suggested a date night in celebration. Quinn had given happy acceptance, both eager to leave the Abrams household; as much as the pair adored evenings in, recent mobile circumstance called for next level “hoo-rah”: a few hours out on the towninstead.Deciding on a dinner of Italian, Artie not so slyly selecting a view after of Snow White and the Huntsman (which they’d planned to “watch” in it’s entirety, no question), the couple respectively separated. Family having already left to catch a meal and hit up some Lima Lazer Tag, understanding “Quartie’s” want for a Friday spent alone, Quinn readied herself at Ma Abrams’ ample vanity - while Artie in his own room remained. He wheeled about, somewhat adorably frantic, boyish enthusiasm spurring his hurried dress. Yet Artie paid careful attention to detail, sporting a deep blue dress shirt (Q’s favorite) and black slacks; he opted for matching, ebony suspenders, collar daringly unbuttoned. Saddle shoes and infamous, thick rimmed glasses completed the look, chocolate brown locks swept aside (though not brushed, only by fingertips threaded); Artie went without cologne, noting his use of Quinn’s preferred soap (sandalwood) in shower before catching bathroom reflection. Deeming himself surprisingly more than okay, and with a broad smile, he rolled out into hall— though meeting his date inside den, drinking in the sight of her beautiful visage… it stole Artie’s very breath.
Q was positively radiant, the summery red of sun dress reflecting warm unto creamy, glowing skin… the curl of blonde locks soft— natural, framing her face’s perfectly rose colored tint… hazel eyes sparkled, garnering dazed focus; Artie grinned, in awe, pushing off near to Quinn with trembling, gloveless hands. “Ah— hi,” he swallowed, exhaling on a slight laugh and heart pounding fierce against lithe chest. “Wow… baby, you look—” Artie paused, leaning to tenderly peck Q’s cheek, lingering before easing back. “—Gorgeous. Not that, um— y’know. You don’t always, but—” He flushed, stammering a moment. “You get what I meant,” Artie rushed, chuckling at himself and lower lip bit, palm reaching to cradle Quinn’s same, flawless touch. “You ready?”
Artie always looked beyond handsome, whether he was dressed to the hilt, or donning his usual sweater vest. Even sweatpants or nothing at all left Quinn positively breathless— especially the latter. That wasn’t any different this evening. Quinn loved when he wore suspenders; Artie managed to pull off a look that not many could. The sapphire of his eyes sparkled even more than usual - just a shade brighter than the button up he wore, it revealing just a slight bit of chest hair. What a tease. Always suave with his words, Quinn found herself giggling softly at the now nervous boy in front of her. It wasn’t often that she got to see this side of him (to her recollection anyway), and she found it to be absolutely adorable. Word vomit and all. Face lit up, and Quinn leaned in to the soft lips gracing her cheek, hazel orbs fluttering closed for a brief moment at the initiation. It felt so wonderful to always be greeted with such affection— love whole and devoted. Sighing blissfully, Q nodded, her fingers gently wrapping around the palm that took hers and giving it a light squeeze. “More than ready,” she assured, pausing to lift his hand to her own lips and laying a kiss there.
Cheeks as flushed as her own, Quinn then preceded to follow behind her boyfriend, the two wheeling to the Abrams’ family van and taking their turns transitioning inside. They were a team, and what had started out as a difficult movement for Quinn was now almost seamless. Once settled into the passenger seat, Quinn’s gaze flitted over to catch Artie’s. Feeling shy in this particular moment, she gave him a bashful smile. Maybe it was because they’d yet to be on much of a proper date since her accident. It was just easier to stay inside and cuddle up, not have to worry about others and her own vulnerability. That ‘first date’ feeling, however, was taking her over, and seemed to be doing the same to him. No matter how comfortable they were together, no matter what they had been through, Artie never ceased to create the stir of butterflies in her stomach. A soft touch, quick glance, genuine compliment— from him, anything brought on that sensation. Now here they were, about to embark on their first real date (the second time around—given Quinn could only remember the first through Artie’s stories); the two modest and stealing glances as if for the very first time.
“So you like my dress?” she asked softly, shifting herself in her seat to face Artie as fingers played with the hem of her fabric. “I um… I wanted to wear red for you, and I picked this one out specifically with my guy in mind.” Her smile was sweet, hazel eyes locking unto blue as best she could in the fading sunlight. “Just uh - promise to pick my jaw up off the floor or ignore me if I stare too much?” she jested, flashing Artie a little wink before leaning over to kiss his cheek; nerves calming as she fizzled back to her usual self. “Sorry, I’m kind of a bundle of nerves… we haven’t really - you know, had a real date well… since I can remember,” she joked. “I want to make it special for you.”
Anons are mean sometimes! But there are nice ones too! :) I don’t know who is being mean, but you can always come hang with me if you want!
Unfortunately, I get a lot of mean ones. I’d love to hang out with you, Britt. What would you like to do?
Anonymous said:
Anonymous said:Excuse me? First of all, half of what you just said didn’t even make sense— “you mention something to people while you talk?” Obviously, since “mentioning” is a form of talking, anon.
Right. I set up the entire accident so that I could go through all of this because I wanted the attention. I’ve barely even discussed much of my personal life lately except for my progress. Any time I’ve been feeling frustrated or disgruntled, I’ve kept it private - even if others haven’t about their lives. So if someone is looking for the attention, it’s not me.
I’ve texted Puck to see how he and Rachel were doing, and visited. Quit trying to make me out to be a shitty friend when I’m doing the best I can, especially considering I don’t remember a lot.
Gray-faced coward.
Anonymous said:Why am I getting torn down for this? Everyone focuses more on their significant other than anyone else, not just me. Just because Artie has most of my attention, that doesn’t mean I only pay attention to him. I pay just as much attention to everyone else as they do me. Unless I mention what’s going on in my life, hardly anyone bothers to even ask (except for a few).
Anonymous said:I never said I didn’t— I guess I’d just rather not get into a religious discussion.
Anonymous said:Well, she can’t be with him if she’s dead either, so…
Anonymous said:Honestly… I don’t know. I mean, Yale is a wonderful opportunity, and I just know someone is going to chastise me for this, but there’s no way I could go four years with only communication when I visit.
