A/N: Ready? Here we go!

Enjoy!

xXx
CeruleanBlues

Mirrors

Part 5

Yesterday is history
Tomorrow's a mystery
I can see you lookin' back at me
Keep your eyes on me
Baby, keep your eyes on me

I hate that he can ignite such a spectrum of abated emotions just by existing three feet away from me. His familiar striking green eyes—guarded yet soft with a twinge of vulnerability—hold mine prisoner in that short time it takes to hop onto the raised platform and join me on stage.

"What—what are you—"

He silently reaches for my guitar and pulls the strap across his shoulder, adjusting the instrument in his hold. The corner of his lips twitches up in that God-forsaken smirk, and as he takes his position to my right, his shoulder brushes against mine in the close proximity. Almost immediately, I'm hit with the comforting muskiness of his cologne. Flashbacks of those nights back in high school crashes over me like a fucking freight train, and all I want to do right now, is run.

"The fuck, Sam?" I mutter through gritted teeth.

"Do you trust me?"

Before I can even choose to deflect his question, he takes my hand in his calloused ones. His touch sends an electrified jolt zapping through every nerve ending in my body; an involuntary gasp escaping my throat. The feeling is unfathomable—like a shit-storm waiting to happen—but then his gaze snaps up in that ambiguous way and all hell breaks loose in my head.

"Just like old times," he murmurs and places my fingers on the fret.

I grant him a tight-lipped smile that probably passes off more as a grimace than anything.

He strums the first chord and clears his throat into the microphone.

"Hi, I'm Sam Evans, and this is our song."

With a burning determination, I march straight for Puckerman while he's still chatting up some airhead missy, yanking on his arm as he yelps in protest. The beer spills all over his hand, dripping down to his worn-out biker boots.

"Would you excuse us?"

"What the hell, Quinn?" he sputters after I've dragged him to a quieter corner.

"You did this, didn't you?" I say, jabbing a finger onto his chest in accusation as I glare daggers at his less-than-sober face. "You set this whole thing up."

He raises his hands up in surrender, eyes wide and glazed over. "Blondie, you're not making any fucking sense."

I don't know if he's just being annoyingly obtuse on purpose, but I'll chalk it up on the alcohol because I wouldn't want to have to kick his sorry ass in front of his potential bedfellow. Stripping him of his male ego isn't as satisfying if there's nothing in it for me.

"Don't you dare tell me that you have nothing to do with it."

Puck blinks; genuinely confused. "I don't know what you're talking about—"

"Sam Fucking Evans, God damn it," I snap back, completely losing any semblance of patience that I have left in my person. "You told him, didn't you?"

I watch as realization dawns upon his rugged features. "Oh."

"Oh?"

His eyebrows spring up to the ceiling. "I didn't tell him, Quinn, I swear."

"Really? Do you seriously take me for some fucking idiot? You're going to stand there and tell me that you have absolutely no idea that he's going to be here—"

"He didn't have anything to do with it, Q."

I whirl around at the sound of his voice; the way he pronounces my name in that low timbre, the slight drawl luring me in like a moth to a flame. It's a dangerous weapon—one that I hope he's unaware of.

"Hey, Puck," Sam greets casually with a wave.

My Mohawk friend extends his mug, nodding in acknowledgment. "Sam."

Those piercing eyes land on me once again.

"Can we talk?" he asks softly.

A scoff almost makes it past my lips.

Is that a trick question?

"Oh, you kids go ahead," Puck interjects instead. "Don't worry about me."

He staggers off, swaying on his feet, and I have half the mind to take him by the collar and force him into staying put because there's no fucking way I'm facing Sam Evans on my own.

Not yet.

"Quinn?"

Shit.

Awkward silences never did work for us and it still doesn't, but here I am, sitting in Sam's seemingly brand new car with the stereo turned on to the minimum, and for the first time he has all but left me at a loss for words. There's an unmistakable tension between us that I'm just itching to burst because another second of this fucking mess and I think I'll suffocate from the thickness in the air.

"Q?"

My spine stiffens unintentionally.

"Yes?"

"A dress? Really?"

I glower back at him. "Cowboy boots, Samuel? Really?"

He chuckles sheepishly, keeping his focus on the road. "Touché."

Glancing down at the pastel flower prints, I wonder if I should tell him, but then Tina's advice rings in my ears, resonating like the fucking pain in the ass that she is and it kind of makes a decision on its own.

"I found it while I was packing my stuff. It was mom's."

He grows quiet for a bit.

"It suits you."

Somehow or another, we find ourselves at a café—such a romantic comedy cliché. The coffee is still way too bitter after three sachets of brown sugar, but the lukewarm temperature of the dark liquid is a soothing welcome as I cradle the cup between my palms.

"What are you doing here?"

"I needed to see you."

"How'd you find me?"

He stares at me a little longer than he should.

"I never stop looking."

Eventually, we need to get past the short-lived conversations and just swallow the damn pill because we're just stalling, and this is going nowhere. We're treading on eggshells around each other; I'm sure diving into a stack of needles is probably less painful than this. The place is empty now with nobody else around and the barista is preoccupied with her cellphone.

"You wanted to talk, right? So talk."

Sam drums his fingers on the surface of the table and gnaws on his bottom lip.

"You didn't answer any of my calls or text messages."

I should've known he's going to start with that.

"I've been busy."

He sighs and cards his fingers through his blonde hair. "You're honestly going with that?"

"What do you want me to say, Sam?"

There's a slight pause.

"You're not going to make this easy on me, are you?" he mumbles, the vulnerability evident in his tone.

"Sam…"

"What happened to us, Q?"

"I was hoping you could tell me."

I'm suddenly all too aware of the girl behind the counter—that same damn barista—who's now watching us with growing interest, as though she's witnessing the last few seconds of the Super Bowl, her cellphone long forgotten.

What the fuck?

"Hey, are you sure you can hear us from there? Do we need to speak a little louder for you?" I quip sarcastically.

Her face flames up as she hastily scrambles to make herself useful for a change.

"You need to stop doing that," Sam says in mock seriousness.

Idiot.

"Let's get out of here."

We don't get far because barely three feet from the car, Sam catches my wrist and spins me around with more force than necessary. Our chests collide, both heaving with effort as I glower into his equally blazing eyes.

God, half a year and he's turned into a fucking Neanderthal; the bastard.

"Stop man-handling me, you dickhead," I snarl, shoving him away.

Can I please just slap him now?

"You avoided me like the plague," he growls, low and perilous as he slowly advances, one deliberate step at a time.

There's an accusation in his tone that I can't stand, and I'm thinking he's got some nerve—and a death wish—trying to pin the blame on me. Digging my heels to the ground, I straighten defiantly against his attempt to intimidate me, but the poor puppy obviously has forgotten whom he's dealing with.

"For your information, I wasn't avoiding you; I blatantly ignoring you," I retort. His towering height forces me to tilt my head up a little, and I curse the heavens for his tall genes.

His gaze smolders in the chill of the night.

"Why?"

"Because I knew that if you had it your way, I would've stayed with you instead," I fume, losing all guises of composure, and I reckon I loathe him even more for that. "I would've argued with my dad on attending Berklee, and in the end, I'll always be your fucking second best. I didn't want to risk taking that chance."

A flicker of emotion glazes over his features.

"So you ran. From me."

In that split second, the fire dies a little.

"I did what I had to."

"You completely erased me out of your life. I accepted your decision, Q, but I still can't understand why you pushed me away when we could still be best friends."

"Because I don't think I could've settled for that."

The words echo hauntingly in my ears, and immediately I wish I could take it all back.

"Quinn, I—"

"You were a fucking pain in my ass, Sam—the bane of my entire existence—and it's pathetic how my life revolves around you, but I can't do that anymore." There's a lump lodged in my throat and I struggle to swallow it down. "I want my own life; one that revolves around me, and when you're around, that doesn't happen very often."

"That's not a good enough reason to hang me out to dry."

I dart my eyes back up to trap his. "I did no such thing, Samuel. In case you've forgotten, I wasn't the only girl in your life."

"But you were the only girl that I needed."

A humorless, sardonic laugh escapes my lips.

"Bullshit. Where were you when I needed you? Where were you when things changed with us? Because I've always been there when you weren't, Sam. You left me alone while you were out screwing around with Brittany."

"I wasn't screwing around with Brittany!"

"Then what else were you doing with her?"

"Trying to get over you."

'Cause I don't wanna lose you now
I'm lookin' right at the other half of me
The vacancy that sat in my heart
Is a space that now you hold

I have no idea how we got here; the moments in between were a blur.

In fact, everything is a fucking blur.

One minute we're standing on the pavement, lashing out at each other, and the next we're playing tonsil hockey against the side of his car. He makes a mad grab for my waist, his touch achingly reminiscent of that fateful night as he brings his hand up to cup the side of my face.

"We're not done yet," I gasp into his mouth.

"I know," he murmurs against the skin below my jaw.

Damn it.

"Sam, we shouldn't—"

He shifts just so between my legs and it's nearly impossible to ignore the bulging hardness in his jeans anymore.

"I know," he repeats, almost inaudibly as he burrows his nose into the juncture of my neck, but doesn't halt in his ministrations. If anything else, his kisses become incessantly urgent, his tongue tracing the contours in the hollow of my mouth.

I tug suggestively on his belt loops, and automatically, his palms trail up my thighs, stopping dangerously short of my embarrassingly dampened underwear.

"Fuck, Sam."

"Oh, I definitely plan to."

God, I sincerely hope that this whole sex-in-the-car doesn't become our thing because it's proving to be a major bitch. I don't dig the leather seats at all, and the space—or lack thereof—just won't do it for me.

"Sam," I breathe, squirming slightly underneath his weight.

Dexterously—with a suspicious amount of skill—he snaps the clasp of my bra.

"What, Q?" he sighs at the sight of my bare breasts now in full display for his viewing pleasure, and it's kind of difficult to concentrate when he's staring at my goodies like a fucking triple chocolate ice cream sundae.

"Did you and Brittany ever—"

"No."

His penis pokes precariously at my opening and it sends a shiver running down my spine.

"Never?"

In one swift thrust, he fills me to the brim.

"Never."

"We've definitely gone a full circle with this."

Sam chuckles into my chest; one arm draped across my waist as he lazily draws circles onto the swell of my hip with his index finger. God, he's such a Cuddler, I'm mildly embarrassed for him, actually, but if he weren't so damn comfortable, I'd probably haul his heavy and sweaty ass off my person.

"Yeah, we have," he agrees, dropping a kiss directly above my heart.

We share a moment of hiatus even though my mind races with unanswered questions from earlier on. Still, I refuse to be the first to breech the subject; I have way too much pride for that, and if the slight increase in his pulse is of any indication, he's probably thinking about it too.

"I couldn't stop thinking about it."

Eventually, he breaks the notion of our silent movie.

I'm almost afraid to ask. "About what?"

"Our first time."

"Why not?"

He hesitates for a bit and suddenly, the weight becomes too much, and I suppose he senses it or something because he eases up a little. His eyes are downcast, the guilt marring his boyish features.

"Because I never really wanted it to be a one-time thing, Q."

It's like a punch to my gut; that confession long overdue.

"Why not?"

"Because I've been in love with you for the past five years."

Show me how to fight for now (please show me, baby)
I'll tell you, baby, it was easy
Comin' back here to you once I figured it out
You were right here all along

The urge to slap him is ridiculous.

"That's not funny, Samuel."

His brows furrow in slight confusion. "I wasn't trying to be."

"You better not be saying what I think you're saying, or so help me God—"

"I love you, Quinn."

I don't think I was ever programmed to process such information; it's overwhelming and suffocating at the same time. The stretch of road ahead is strangely lulling, and with the windows down, I allow for the wind to dance in the wisps of my hair, not caring that it's probably going to tangle like hell after this.

"Q…"

"Why now, Sam?"

He expels a breath of air and tightens his grip on the steering wheel.

"You didn't want anything to change between us," he begins. "But I was hoping that night would change your mind. Sure, our first time was awkward as hell, and you were so nonchalant about it, I just—I was at a loss, Quinn. I've tried everything to let you know that I was crazy about you since day one, but nothing seemed to work. My only option was to attempt to move on."

"Sam—"

"I had to respect your wishes because I couldn't stand the thought of losing you, but I suppose it doesn't make much of a difference, anyway because I still lost you."

There's a crack in his voice that gnaws on my wall of defense, but I refuse to give in, knowing that if I were to even look at him right now, that my composure would crumble to dust. He clears his throat; the sound so excruciating to my ears.

"I thought that if I went out with Brittany, that maybe my feelings for you will disappear, but all it did was push you away. When you left, I just hated myself for everything—for hurting you, for not fighting for you—and I think it didn't really sink in that you were really going to Harvard until I walked by your house one day and your car wasn't in the driveway."

I've sworn to myself that I wouldn't cry.

Damn it.

"Perhaps a part of me was still in denial, or just foolishly thinking that you'd turn the car around for me, and even then, I tried to move on, you know."

From the corner of my eyes, I see him rake his fingers through his hair.

"Brittany broke up with me because she didn't want to wait till I finally got over you. As much as I tried to hide it, she wasn't as blind as everybody thinks. She saw that she wasn't the one I needed. I guess I never knew what I had till it was gone."

I don't even realize the tears streaming down my cheeks until he pulls up by the road shoulder and gently wipes them away with the sleeve of his shirt.

Damn it.

Why am I being such a pussy?

This fucking emotional wreck is so unlike me in all aspects.

"I'm sorry, Q. I should never have—"

"I'm sorry too."

I awake to an ear-splitting scream—one that can shatter windows from a mile away—and bolt upright to find Tina Cohen-Chang standing in my doorway with a mortified look on her face; cat-like eyes as wide as saucers while I scramble to hide my modesty.

We're close, but not nearly close enough.

"The fuck, Tee?"

"There's a person in your bed," she remarks.

Oh, for Pete's sake.

"I am aware of that, yes."

"Quinn Fabray, what did you—"

"Babe, please tell her to shut up," Sam grumbles from underneath the duvet.

"What the hell, Quinn?" she shrieks. "Is that Sam Evans?"

"Just give her an autograph, Q," he snorts, snuggling deeper into my very naked side. "Maybe that'll chase her away."

Rolling my eyes, I reach for the nearest pillow before pitching it to the Asian female. It lands squarely on her face with a light plop.

"You heard the man. Get out."

She pounces on me the first chance she gets; it's not like I haven't been expecting it.

"Okay, spill," she demands, cornering me the moment I seat my butt on the couch. "And don't leave out any details."

"He needed a place to crash for the night," I shrug, knowing she'll pick up on my bullshit anyway. Why bother lying if it's not going to help the situation?

She frowns, clearly not amused, and sometimes I think Tina needs to loosen up a little. Is she not getting any from Mike?

"You're seriously going to go with that? On Harvard grounds?"

"I decline to answer that on the grounds that I don't fucking want to," I quip back with a smirk. "If you have a problem with that, you may speak to my attorney, or I'll have you slapped with a warning for badgering."

"Spoken like a true lawyer."

"So I take it 'congratulations' are in order."

Trust Puck to make a joke out of everything. Accepting the mug of beer in his hand, I slide onto the high stool next to him and take a sip of the cold malt.

"You two kiss and make up?" he asks, playfully wagging his eyebrows.

"Shut up, Noah."

He snickers for a bit, but then sobers up. "Did you tell him?"

The water droplets forming on the mug suddenly become relatively interesting to look at, and he knows that I'm avoiding the question.

"Why didn't you?"

"I don't think I'll be able to handle it if things change again."

Puck leans in, his dark eyes piercing through mine in that uncanny way of his.

"Even if the change is for the better?"

Noah is right, though, unfortunately.

I need to tell him.

Now you're the inspiration for this precious song
And I just wanna see your face light up since you put me on
So now I say goodbye to the old me, it's already gone

I suppose he knows, but I send a text message to Sam anyway, summoning his presence to my regular Wednesday gigs. He arrives ten minutes before I'm scheduled to play and greets me with a kiss, effectively leaving me breathless when he traces his tongue across my teeth.

Damn that son of a bitch.

The house lights dim just then, cueing me on stage, and after flashing him an apologetic smile, I take my position in front of the microphone.

"I wrote this first song last night, and I've never really played it in front of anybody before, but I'd love to share it with each and every one of you here. This song means everything to me. It's about a girl who finally realizes what her feelings mean, and the boy who's patient enough to wait for the time when she does."

Searching the sea of silhouettes, I spot him amongst the shadow of faces.

"To my best friend, Sam, I love you too."

And I can't wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, to get you home
Just to let you know, you are

A/N: The end! And that's it! A huge thank you to everybody who's followed/favorite/reviewed this story. You support means a lot to me, and truly, I wouldn't be able to complete this without your constant encouragements and motivations. Cheers!

RJRRAA: Hi there! Thank you so much for sticking around, reading and reviewing my story! I'm glad to know that you've enjoyed the previous chapter even though there aren't significant Fabrevans scenes in there. I'm also happy to know that you like the friendship going on with Puck and Quinn. They're a hilarious pair! Sam uploads videos on his website and what not, and I suppose he does have live performances (as seen at the start of this chapter). I hope you've enjoyed the ending! Cheers!

Quams: Hello there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing my previous chapter! I really appreciate it! I'm glad that you liked it, despite the lack in Fabrevans scenes in there. I enjoyed writing the Puck and Quinn scenes because they have such great basis for witty banter :D I hope the wait isn't too long for you! Because it's a fresh chapter that I hadn't planned on writing, it took me a while to complete. Hope you like it!

Pieceofcupcakes: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I truly appreciate it! I know that this story is a little one-sided, considering it's being told in Quinn's point of view, so I reckon it's a little unfair on Sam's part. He's not the bad guy, really, just that people always think what they want to think, right? I'm glad you picked out the obvious part about them being in love and not admitting it. Hit that right on the target, and yeah, I suppose somewhere along the way, Quinn figures out her own feelings even though a part of her is afraid of facing them head on. Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed the ending! Cheers!

J.D. Toulouse: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and leaving me a nice long review! I really appreciate it! I'm flattered, thank you for the lovely comments! It's nice to know that I did Quinn's character justice. I mean, her character is all over the place in the show, she's like bipolar or something, I don't know, but that's a good thing because it gives me so much room to play with and still make her sound like…her. I'm glad you liked Tina! I mean, if she had more screen time, I would think she'd make a less pushy Rachel. Not saying that it's a bad thing, though, because her lack of storyline in the show enables me to develop them in my story, so it all works out. I hope you've enjoyed this story and how it ends. Let me know what you think, yeah? Cheers!

s. inthehouse: Hello! LOL! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing the previous chapter! Apologies if I'd caused any distress to your person with that ending, I should learn to be a little kinder to my stories :D Well, if Quinn was indeed pregnant, this story will take on a full story instead of a five-parter, and I totally agree on the crazy bit. LOL! I know my update is a little late, but I hadn't planned on writing a fifth part, so I have to actually write this chapter from scratch. Either way, I hope you've enjoyed it!

Ashley: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I hope this ending is long enough for you, and I know I took some time with it, but it's only because I had to write this chapter from scratch instead of editing them like I did with the other 4 chapters. Hope you like it!

FabrevansFTW: Hello there! Thank you so much for reading and leaving a lengthy review! I really appreciate it! I'm glad you still liked the previous chapter even without the Fabrevans interaction (unless you consider that last bit an interaction). I know that this story is Quinn-centric and it's one-sided, considering it's told from her point of view, and thus a little biased on her part, but it's because of that, we're able to see Quinn's flaws, that maybe she ought to give Sam a chance to explain himself. It would've saved her—and him—all that trouble. It's like what Tina said in chapter 4: "it'll do you good to swallow a little bit of that pride and take the hand that's trying to reach out to you". I suppose somehow or another, she took the advise in the end, and all that stuff happens in this chapter. LOL! Honestly, you don't have to apologize for anything. I would've made this a 5-parter regardless because I know that leaving it at the fourth part is a major injustice to the story and characters. Thank you so much for the wonderful comments, and of course, I'll always be able to write and update as long as I'm able to :D Hope you've enjoyed this ending! Cheers!

NayaholicJustForNaya: Hi there! LOL! OMG, please don't die! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing my story! I really appreciate it! Well, because this story is told in Quinn's point of view, there will definitely be moments where she's being unfair and stubborn. I mean, people think what they want to think, and this is where we get to see Quinn's flaws. Sam is not the bad guy in this story even though Quinn makes it look like it is, so yeah, I would say that she plays a part in their fall-out. I'm glad you liked the friendship between Quinn and Puck! Those were my favorite to write because they just bounce off each other so well. That scene where Quinn sees Sam across the street, that was the most difficult to write. I had five drafts of that scene alone and it almost broke me. Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed the ending of this story! Thank you so much for the wonderful comments! Cheers!

Song used: "Mirrors" by Justin Timberlake

P.S: I'm being told that I'm a finalist in the 2013 Glee fanfic awards! I wasn't even aware of it, but apparently, I've been nominated enough times to be named a finalist for the 'best mystery fic' and 'mystery fic writer' for my story Whisper In My Ear! Whoots! To those who have made the nomination, I'd like to thank you so much from the bottom of my heart! It truly is an honor! People are encouraged to vote, but no obligations. Do what you think best suits you. The link: gleefanficawards2013*dot*tumblr*dot*com.