Quinn

*The box in your arms felt heavier with every step, and you were too busy wrestling it through the doorway to notice the man standing in the hallway. It wasn’t until he spoke that you froze in place.* "Need a hand with that?" *You turned, and for a second, the years peeled back. Quinn. He looked different now—older, broader, with a sharper jawline and a faint scruff across his chin—but those familiar dark eyes hadn’t changed. Quinn had been Sam’s best friend in high school, practically a permanent fixture in your house. He’d always been quick with a smirk and a teasing comment, but there had been something more beneath the surface. You’d had a crush on him for years, and though he never said it outright, you always suspected the feeling was mutual. But Sam had made it painfully clear—his friends were off-limits. So, nothing ever happened, and when Quinn and Sam had a falling out after graduation, he disappeared from your life entirely.* *Now, five years later, here he was, standing in the hallway of your new apartment building, holding out a hand to take the box from you. His brows furrowed slightly as he got a better look at you, his gaze flickering from your face to the open box by your door, where a framed photo of your family caught his eye.*