Quentin had no idea how to handle this. He didn't know how to fix it, because he didn't know what the problem was. He only knew that Em had cried herself to sleep in his arms. She seemed peaceful now, a stark contrast to moments ago when she was trembling. Was she that mad at him? Had he brought her to this? But if that was the case, she wouldn't have let him stay. It was more like she hadn't noticed his presence. Like he wasn't even in the room.
There was something he was missing here, and he was damned if he wasn't going to figure out what it was.
Her phone rang again, but Quentin quickly declined the call. He didn't want her to wake up when she'd just fallen asleep. He brushed the hair out of her face as gently as he could. He could see where the tears had streaked down her face, leaving pale lines on her cheeks. She had cried for so long. She would be dehydrated when she woke up. He should get her a drink.
He carefully climbed out of bed and headed to the kitchen, which was unfathomably small. He was about to open the fridge when he heard the lock shuffle. Someone was coming in… Em definitely lived alone. Quentin opened drawers randomly and until he found a knife and positioned himself in front of the door. He wasn't going to let anyone hurt her.
The lock turned and the door opened. Em's weird neighbor had just… walked in, since he apparently had a key. The two of them stood in silence for a moment. Quentin was still wielding the knife, which seemed like overkill now. The neighbor was standing there with a plastic takeout bag, staring at him with eyebrows raised. Quentin didn't know what he was waiting for. After far too long the neighbor pocketed his keys.
"Do you smoke?" he asked.
"No." Quentin replied. The neighbor grinned.
"Me neither." He leaned forward to look at Em, who was still sleeping peacefully. Then he turned to Quentin. 'Let's talk outside. Leave the knife."
Quentin really had no choice but to follow. He set the knife down and cautiously stepped outside, closing the door behind him.
"You cut my call?"
"Who are you?" Quentin didn't trust this man at all. The neighbor rolled his eyes.
"Marco. I live over there." He pointed. "Why are you here?"
"I should be asking you that."
"Are you always this much of a dick?" Quentin didn't know how to respond to that. "No wonder Em didn't want to tell me about you."
Quentin's heart seized when he heard that, but he didn't let it show on his face.
"You both are friends?" he tried to sound like he didn't care. Marco laughed.
"Something like that." What did that even mean?
"Why did you come over?"
"Em never declines my calls. I thought you were murdering her or something."
"So you brought dinner?"
"In case you were an unhinged psychopath, I needed a reason to be here."
"How were you planning on overpowering me with that?"
"Okay, so I didn't actually think it through. But I really was not trying to fight."
"You would have just let me kill her?"
"Of course not. I'd just be careful about it."
"I could've killed her while you were being careful."
"Why are we even talking about this? It's fucking dumb."
"Because apparently you're the person closest to Em, but you aren't even able to protect her. It's bad enough she lives in this shady neighborhood. Now apparently even her friends are completely disloyal."
"You really love to talk about shit you don't understand. No wonder she's pissed at you."
"What is there to understand? You can't protect her." Not like I can. Quentin barely knew what he was saying at this point.
"First of all, the reason Em's managed to live this long is because she doesn't need someone to protect her. You would understand that if you really knew her. And secondly, if it was the one of the motherfuckers in this neighborhood causing a problem, I would take care of it. I was trying to fucking careful because guys like me don't get away with beating up guys like you. People like us have to think about these things." Marco huffed, an action that strangely reminded him of Em. "I don't know what the fuck Em was thinking, bringing you here. You stick out too much. She acted like it was simple but this whole thing is looking real messy to me. But it's whatever. Like I said, she can take care of herself." Marco handed him the takeout bag. "Give this to her, would you?" He started walking back towards his unit.
"You're not going to threaten me or anything?" Quentin asked. Marco rolled his eyes.
"God, you're annoying. The dick must be otherworldly for Em to put up with it." He raised an eyebrow. "You're not into dudes at all, are you?"
"...No."
"Just checking." He winked, though Quentin sensed it was more playful than anything else. Then he disappeared into the apartment.
Quentin went back inside Em's place and locked the door. He set the food down on the counter and sighed. Apparently Marco was someone Em was close to, and he clearly thought Quentin was a joke. Perhaps Marco was intimidated by his wealth, but that wasn't enough to consider him a good partner for Em. Marco acted like there was some impassable gap between them but that didn't matter. Quentin could make Em a part of his world easily. It didn't matter if she could take care of herself; she shouldn't have to. Why should she struggle when Quentin could give her the best life had to offer? He would give her everything she ever wanted. All she had to do was ask. But she didn't ask, because in her mind he was just another rich asshole who only wanted to get laid. All this time he'd spent wishing she would see him differently, and yet he'd never tried to prove himself to her. He'd never tried to show her who he really was.
Quentin was done sitting around. He was going to find a way into Em's heart, whatever it took.