The Jerk

The Catcher

“Yeah,” he chuckled, brushing a blonde piece of his hair away from his eyes, “it was.”

“Don’t ever do it again; understand?” I snarled, self consciously brining the cloth blankets higher up my chest. I only had a light nightshirt on that barely covered the tops of my thighs. Quinn mock-saluted me when I narrowed my eyes at him and I sighed; he was such a pain.

Propping his feet up on the edge of my bed, his legs crossed at his ankles, Quinn grinned at me with something I didn’t like at all.

“What?” I hissed, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Nothing.”

“Whatever.”

“It was nothing.”

“I said whatever.” I frowned, biting my lip when I realised I had snapped at him. “Sorry.” I blew at a wispy piece of fiery hair before angrily unfolding my arms and brushing it behind an ear. I looked over at Quinn, my eyes flicking away when I realised those blue eyes were filled with concern. I hated it when people worried, especially about me. “I’m fine.” I muttered, shuffling uncomfortably under the blankets as his gaze made a shiver run down my spine.

“I didn’t ask.” Quinn breathed, his voice blank.

I sighed. “You didn’t have to, your eyes did.” My gaze fluttered back over to him and I frowned. “Stop looking at me like that.” I snapped, tucking another wispy hair away from my face. “It’s seriously creeping me out, Quinn. Stop it.”

“Sorry,” his blue eyes dropped to his feet and he pressed his lips together; silent. Not this again.

“Stop that too. I hate silent treatment.” I muttered, watching his face as he chuckled, shaking his blonde hair about his olive face. He wore black jeans, the sort that matched with everything, a leather belt slotted carefully through the loops at his hips. A green shirt was pulled over those hard muscles, still visible through the light cotton, making lines and slight shadows across his torso. Black dress shoes were tied and laced neatly on each foot and I frowned. “Where’re you off to at this hour of the night, other than here?”

Quinn’s blue eyes snapped up to meet mine and he smiled. “That, Rose, in none of you concern.” His sapphire eyes glittered with mischief and I rolled my own pair of golden eyes, I was not in the mood for games right now. Quinn snorted and I frowned at him. “Pass me that,” a slender finger pointed across the bed at my alarm clock and I bit my lip.

“What do you want with it?” I asked, taking it from the tabletop beside me, my fingertips running over the delicate face and hands. My eyes flickered over to him and I realised that cheeky grin was still plastered on that angelic face. Such a conflicted person, I thought. “Be gentle,” I breathed, placing it softly into his outstretched palm, watching carefully as he pulled it closer. His fingertips touched the dial and my eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?”

“Do you always ask so many questions, Rose?” He breathed, looking up at me briefly with such blankness in his eyes that it almost scared me. “Because I’ve practically ran out of answers.” He twisted the dial twice before placing it back in my palm, that mischievous smile still written all over his face. “Look, Rose, it’s noon.” Quinn smiled when I frowned down at the clock’s bright face. “Let’s go have some lunch.”

“Quinn, it’s three in the morning.” I whined, trying to pull my hands from his as he caught them and pulled me from the bed. “Nothing’s going to be open and I’m not hungry.”

“When are you never hungry?” Quinn teased, letting my hands go and throwing me a pair of jeans that lay draped over the arm of a nearby chair, tossing me my combat boots and smiling. He knew I didn’t have an answer to that and I frowned.