I do not own Glee or any of the characters, nor am I in anyway affiliated with Glee. I am simply a Puckleberry shipper. If I did own Glee, Puckleberry would be end game.
It's a Saturday night and the New Directions kids are gathered in the Fabray's living room, winding down after a long week of intense dance routines. Santana, Brittany and Mike are sitting in the corner, discussing new dance moves they can bring to the floor; Puck and Sam are standing by the stereo, searching Santana's iPod for some better music, because frankly, Quinn's music sucks; Tina, Artie, and Mercedes and laughing at something that Kurt and Blaine had said; Quinn is busy in the kitchen, cleaning up the left over scraps of food; and once again, Finn and Rachel are arguing.
"Don't, Finn!" the tiny brunette cries, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "Stop defending her! I am so tired of hearing that I'm being too harsh."
The Quarter Back shakes his head, "You are! You keep doing it over and over again, Rachel!"
"I am not being harsh, Finn, I am being truthful," she snaps at him. "You do know what truthful means, don't you?"
"Don't talk to me like I'm dumb," he tells her.
She shakes her head, her curls flying, "I'm sorry, Finn, that is not what I intended to do and you know it. I am simply trying to make a point, but you are making it hard for me. You break my heart, you really do. I am your girlfriend, not her, but you don't seem to know how to treat me like it."
"Because you're always being horrible about her!" he yells, causing heads to turn towards them. She drops her arms and takes a small step backwards away from him, and he lowers his voice. "Maybe… maybe it would just be easier if we broke up."
"Excuse me?" she spits, eyes wide in disbelief. "No. You do not get to break up with me, Finn Hudson. We need to talk about this, calmly and rationally. Maybe we should leave early and go somewhere more private to work this out."
"Rach, you don't get it," he sighs, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "There's nothing left to talk about. I don't want to date you anymore. You're unbearable these days... I don't... I can't be with you."
"Finn, pl-" she begins.
He shakes his head harshly, "No. I'm done. It's over, Rachel. I don't want to be with you."
Everyone watches on intently as she slaps him hard in the face with tears in her eyes before she turns abruptly on her heels and rushes past them, her long hair covering the left side of her face, and he instantly knows that she's going outside for some air. They immediately look to each other and the look in the Latina's eyes, the sparkle they possess, tells him to go after her. Without a second thought, he necks the remainder of his bottle of beer before placing the empty bottle down on the table next him and walks out in the same direction that the smaller brunette had walked in only moments before.
When he gets outside, he can see her shaking, and he isn't sure whether it's because she's crying uncontrollably or because she's cold. He concludes that it's because of both, after all, he's pretty cold himself and he has a jacket on, while she's standing only in a short black dress. As he walks towards her, he takes off his jacket and places it over her bare shoulders as he reaches her side, allowing his hands to linger a little longer than necessary.
She lets out a shaky breath before she looks up at him and he can see the cloud of air that escapes her frosted pink lips. She gives him a small smile, to which he nods once in response. Not a single word needs to be uttered between the two of them for him to know that she's ready to leave, and the look in her eyes tells him everything he needs to know, so he takes her hand gently and leads her to his car. He opens the passenger side door for her, and watches as she slowly slides in before closing it. As he moves to the drivers' side, he runs his hand through his mohawk, then glances back to the house and can see the taller boy she slapped standing on the front porch, hands in his jean pockets. He looks away quickly before getting in and driving away.
The drive to her place is quiet, except for the occasional sob that she releases. When they arrive, he turns the ignition off and turns in his seat to look at her. Her eyes are focused solely on her hands, her fingers playing with the hem of her dress, and she only looks up when he speaks.
"You gonna be ok?" he asks her softly in concern.
She nods slowly. "Yes. Thank you, Noah. I will be fine."
He shakes his head a little at her. "You don't have to lie to me, Rach."
"I know," she whispers, before looking away from him. She can see the look on his face- the soft, warm, concerned look- and it makes her want to cry even more. "I will be fine. I'm strong enough to get over this..." she pauses, "Heart ache. After all, Finn is only some silly boy."
"I know you are," he tells her, reaching out to touch her hair, pushing a stray curl behind her ear so he can see her face. He can't stand to see her like this, it hurts him to see her upset, so fragile, as if she could break at any moment. He slowly traces his fingers along her cheek and down the side of her face until they come to a stop underneath her chin. "Look at me." As she turns her head towards him, he gives her a small smile and removes his hand. "If anyone knows how strong you are, it's me. You go through so much shit, I'm surprised you haven't left McKinley, not that I'd want you to leave or whatever. But, Rachel, you don't have to get through this by yourself. I'm here for you. Whatever you need, I'm here."
She nods her head again and wipes at her face. She's pretty sure she has mascara and eye liner smudged on her cheeks and hates the thought of possibly looking so tragic. "Thank you. I appreciate that, very much so. You are a good guy, Noah, and I am honored to have you in my life."
He flashes her a cocky grin, "Yeah, I know. You're not bad yourself," and she laughs at him. Not a giggle, but a loud cackle with a wide smile as she throws her head back. "That's what I like to see. No more tears?"
"No," she confirms with a smile. "No more tears."
"Good," he chuckles. "Honestly, Finn's not worth it. I know he's my boy, but he's also a bit of a douchebag. He wouldn't know something great if it kicked him in the balls."
"Noah!" she says incredulously. "Must you be so crass?"
"When it comes to defending you, then yeah, I do," he admits. "I got your back, babe."
"Thank you," she tells him again, and silence falls between them for a moment before she speaks again. "Would... would you like to come in, Noah? My dads are out of town for the week and I could use some company. It gets a bit lonely here by myself sometimes."
He smiles at her. "Love to. Beats going back to that thing Fabray called a party. But, just as long as we don't have to watch one of those dumb, cheesy musicals you love so much."
She gasps at him before slapping his arm gently in mock anger before grinning, her eyes lighting up. "Deal," she agrees as she reaches her hand out for him to shake. As he takes hold of her hand and locks eyes with his, she knows that she most definitely will be quite alright. She knows that he will be there for her, with his arms wide open, ready to catch her if she falls.