I Can Do More Than Kiss You
I Can Do More Than Kiss You
"Ugh, that’s Figgins humming." A few steps in Puck’s direction and without a doubt he’d smell the cigarette smoke. And Puck couldn’t afford another suspension before regionals.
He quickly ducked into the stairwell hoping Figgins wouldn’t go after him. Just in case, he rushed up the first flight.
It wasn’t until Puck was halfway to up the stairs that he realized he wasn’t alone. What was that? Sniffling? A little... but also some very quiet singing. It was coming from the fourth floor, the top of the building.
“Dear John,
I see it all now that you're gone
Don't you think I was too young to be messed with?
The girl in the dress,
cried the whole way home.
I should've known”
Puck took the steps slowly, hoping not to disturb this unfamiliar voice. She’d take a moment every now and again to sniff. Her singing was slow, meticulous... perfectly sad.
When he reached the landing before the fourth floor, Puck surprised himself by sitting down. He didn’t want to reach her just yet and ruin her song.
“Don't you think I was too young to be messed with?
The girl in the dress wrote you a song
You should've known
You should've known
Don't you think I was too young?
You should've known...”
She trailed into some short breaths, a delicate cry. Puck carefully began to ascend those last few steps.
A girl with tumbling blond curls sat slumped against the cinderblock wall, knees curled into her chest. Puck couldn’t see her face.
He cleared his throat quietly and the girl snapped up surprised. It was the new girl, Bridgett King- mascara down her cheeks and all.
She scrambled to her feet self-consciously holding her arms close to her chest.
“I- I’m sorry, I thought I was alone.” She said quietly.
“It’s cool,” Puck answered, “I’m sorry, I should’ve said something sooner.”
“How much of that did you hear?”
“Enough to tell that your voice is... well, it kicks ass.” Puck said. Bridgett’s brown eyes blazed with fear.
“I’m complimenting you,” Puck said. “You can chill, you know?”
Bridgett didn’t say anything, but she did let her arms fall back to her sides. Her jaw was tight.
“Look, I know you probably wouldn’t guess it from a guy like me, but I’m in the Glee club.” Puck explained. “Have you thought about-”
“No!” She exclaimed. Puck put his hands up in surrender.
“Yo, I’m just saying that you could-”
“No.” Bridgett said this time softer but equally firm. “I don’t sing.”
“But you just-”
“That was nothing. I don’t sing, OK?” She pleaded with those damn beautiful eyes. “Please, don’t tell anyone about this,” she swung her messenger bag over her shoulder and brushed past Puck. “Please?”
Puck, hands in his pockets, sighed. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”
She sighed too. Relaxed a little. “Thank you... I’m Bridgett, by the way.”
“Puck.”
Her lip twitched upwards a little in the corner to make a sad, small smile. “Thanks again, Puck.” she whispered gratefully one last time before turning away and taking the stairs down and out the door. Puck couldn’t erase the image of those slightly turned, pink lips even after she was far gone.
This girl had a story, that much was sure. No one sang a song like the way she had if it didn’t hit something seriously close to home.
Something about this girl struck Puck in a different way. Usually, he was a player. Love em and leave em. But something about the sadness in Bridgett’s voice made him feel like there was something more than a hot make out session. There was... a connection. He needed to protect her, which is why he would keep this private moment between them. He wanted to get closer to her, figure out all her demons, and help her overcome them.
Puck was always the rebound guy, the cheap hook-up. But for this mysterious blonde ghost, he would be so much more.
“Bridgett King.” He said quietly to himself in the empty stairwell. “I can do more than kiss you.”
He quickly ducked into the stairwell hoping Figgins wouldn’t go after him. Just in case, he rushed up the first flight.
It wasn’t until Puck was halfway to up the stairs that he realized he wasn’t alone. What was that? Sniffling? A little... but also some very quiet singing. It was coming from the fourth floor, the top of the building.
“Dear John,
I see it all now that you're gone
Don't you think I was too young to be messed with?
The girl in the dress,
cried the whole way home.
I should've known”
Puck took the steps slowly, hoping not to disturb this unfamiliar voice. She’d take a moment every now and again to sniff. Her singing was slow, meticulous... perfectly sad.
When he reached the landing before the fourth floor, Puck surprised himself by sitting down. He didn’t want to reach her just yet and ruin her song.
“Don't you think I was too young to be messed with?
The girl in the dress wrote you a song
You should've known
You should've known
Don't you think I was too young?
You should've known...”
She trailed into some short breaths, a delicate cry. Puck carefully began to ascend those last few steps.
A girl with tumbling blond curls sat slumped against the cinderblock wall, knees curled into her chest. Puck couldn’t see her face.
He cleared his throat quietly and the girl snapped up surprised. It was the new girl, Bridgett King- mascara down her cheeks and all.
She scrambled to her feet self-consciously holding her arms close to her chest.
“I- I’m sorry, I thought I was alone.” She said quietly.
“It’s cool,” Puck answered, “I’m sorry, I should’ve said something sooner.”
“How much of that did you hear?”
“Enough to tell that your voice is... well, it kicks ass.” Puck said. Bridgett’s brown eyes blazed with fear.
“I’m complimenting you,” Puck said. “You can chill, you know?”
Bridgett didn’t say anything, but she did let her arms fall back to her sides. Her jaw was tight.
“Look, I know you probably wouldn’t guess it from a guy like me, but I’m in the Glee club.” Puck explained. “Have you thought about-”
“No!” She exclaimed. Puck put his hands up in surrender.
“Yo, I’m just saying that you could-”
“No.” Bridgett said this time softer but equally firm. “I don’t sing.”
“But you just-”
“That was nothing. I don’t sing, OK?” She pleaded with those damn beautiful eyes. “Please, don’t tell anyone about this,” she swung her messenger bag over her shoulder and brushed past Puck. “Please?”
Puck, hands in his pockets, sighed. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”
She sighed too. Relaxed a little. “Thank you... I’m Bridgett, by the way.”
“Puck.”
Her lip twitched upwards a little in the corner to make a sad, small smile. “Thanks again, Puck.” she whispered gratefully one last time before turning away and taking the stairs down and out the door. Puck couldn’t erase the image of those slightly turned, pink lips even after she was far gone.
This girl had a story, that much was sure. No one sang a song like the way she had if it didn’t hit something seriously close to home.
Something about this girl struck Puck in a different way. Usually, he was a player. Love em and leave em. But something about the sadness in Bridgett’s voice made him feel like there was something more than a hot make out session. There was... a connection. He needed to protect her, which is why he would keep this private moment between them. He wanted to get closer to her, figure out all her demons, and help her overcome them.
Puck was always the rebound guy, the cheap hook-up. But for this mysterious blonde ghost, he would be so much more.
“Bridgett King.” He said quietly to himself in the empty stairwell. “I can do more than kiss you.”