Her answer comes four days, fifteen minutes and thirteen seconds after his proposal. But there is more to it than that.

i.

She is most definitely reeling.

It's been an hour since 'will you marry me' and an hour since he kissed her and told her she didn't have to answer straight away. She's thankful for that. She's thankful, because her mind is spinning, and she's elated and terrified and feels like crying. She's completely sure, and then completely unsure and she doesn't think that an acceptable answer is something she can offer him right now.

It's been an hour, and he drove her home. She walks in her bedroom, and he's right behind her, closing the door softly as she sits on her bed. He stands there awkwardly for a moment. She wants to laugh.

"Come here," she says softly, almost a whisper. He nods, moving slowly over to her, brushing her knee with his as he sits down next to her.

She closes the distance between then as soon as he sits down.

It's soft, tender, to begin with. She runs her fingers down the lapels of his shirt, opening her mouth against his lips. It gets more urgent then, and his fingers are gripping her hip, his free hand running through her hair to bring her closer to him. She pushes him a little and he grips her hip harder, pulling her down with him as he lies down on her bed. She straddles his hips, her fingers splayed against his chest and her mouth moving against his urgently. He cups her cheek with his free hand, his tongue running along her bottom lip and she feels the familiar ache between her legs, and she grinds a little against his hips. He moans against her lips, his arm going around her waist as he flips her over in an instant, hovering above her for a moment before he presses his lips against hers again.

She parts her legs, and he settles between them, his fingers lightly running against her thigh where her dress had ridden up. She moves slightly and her dress bunches up further, her fingers moving to the buckle of his jeans. He bucks his hips when she finally gets the zip down, her hand brushing against the bulge in his boxer shorts, a deep groan rising in his throat. She kisses him harder, biting gently on his bottom lip as she arches against him.

"Fuck, Rach," he mutters when her hand wraps around his length, his forehead dropping to hers. She kisses him, again and again as she moves her fingers, watching his face and how she was making him feel. She doesn't think she'll ever get over it.

He moves his fingers down over hers, stilling them and opening his eyes. She knows he's going to ask, going to say something, anything, but she doesn't need him too. She doesn't want him too.

Her eyes glass over a little, and her voice catches in her throat, but she whispers, "I just … I just need you."

She blinks and a tear rolls down her cheek, but he kisses it away, pressing his lips against her skin. He kisses her cheek, then her forehead, then her nose, then the side of her mouth before she turns slightly and catches his lips on hers. She kisses him, soft and slow, but fast and urgent all at once, and he brushes his hand up her thigh, higher and higher before he smooths his hand over her underwear. Her dress is bunched up around her hips, and he hooks a finger in her panties, tugging them down and off, all the while never taking his lips off hers.

She breaks away only to reach for the packet of condoms in her bedroom drawer, grabbing one and ripping it open. She slides it on, her breathing shallow and her lips swollen and he hovers above her, placing himself at her entrance. When he slips inside her, she groans a little, her fingers curling around his neck and her forehead pressed against his. He kisses her again, his tongue slipping into her mouth and coiling with hers. He begins moving, slowly at first and she matches his thrusts with an arch, pressing her hips into his. A breathless 'Finn' escapes her lips and she feels herself pressing into him deeper, the familiar tingling sensation building up inside her. She kisses him harder, longer, her heart swelling and the lump gathering in her throat. "I love you," she whispers, and then she's coming, followed closely by him and she grasps the folds of his shirt as she does.

They don't move, not instantly. His forehead is against hers, their breathing shallow and uneven. She's still gripping the folds of his shirt. He kisses her, softer than before, before he pulls himself out. Its moments later, when they're cleaned up and she's leaning against his side when she lets a tear slip.

He doesn't ask.

He leaves the ring, and the box, on her bedside table when he leaves, pressing his lips against her forehead.

She stares at it until she goes to sleep.

ii.

It's twelve thirty five the next day when she sees him again. He walks up to her at her locker, his fingers brushing against her arm. She smiles, leaning up and gently pressing her lips against his cheek, her hand lingering on his chest.

"I'm not going to pressure you," he says, quietly. She's taken-aback. He sees that. "No, no – I mean… I don't want to pressure you. Take as long as you need, okay?"

She smiles softly. And nods. He leans over, brushing his hand against her cheek. 'I love you' falling from his lips against her ear. She closes her eyes and breathes a little deeper than normal, before he leaves.

To be honest?

She's terrified.

The house is empty when she gets home from school after Glee, and she makes her way up to her bedroom, no clear direction. She's exhausted; she had barely any sleep last night. She thought, and she thought, and she dreamed and she wished and now she feels even more confused than before. It isn't supposed to be like this.

She collapses on her bed, leaving her shoes on. She never does that. Her dad's won't be home for a few hours, and that should be good. It should give her time. But she kind of wants a distraction. She turns her head a little, and the little box is still sitting on her bedroom table. She hasn't touched it.

The box feels heavy in her fingers. Maybe it's because of what it means. She flips open the lid, and she can't help the sharp intake of her breath. It's beautiful. Amazing, better than anything she could have ever dreamed. It's perfect.

But she still hasn't put it on yet.

Her fingers are shaking as she takes the ring out, placing the box in her lap. The ring is cold, colder than she expected. She twirls it through her fingers a couple of times before stilling, bringing it up to her eyes and staring at it. She loves it. She does, she does, but the fear is encapsulating all other feelings.

She slips it on her finger without thinking of it. It fits. She smiles, because it fits and it's perfect and he's perfect. But it's kind of not perfect.

There is a million 'what if's' running though her head, and she is so, incredibly scared to lose him that voicing her concerns are the main reason why she's not ready to give an answer. She's not ready, because she knows she should say no, but she wants to say yes, but she's terrified to say yes. And she's terrified to say no. She knows this, because she knows that she doesn't want to lose him, that she wants him forever, but this … now? She closes her eyes and breathes deeply, because she can feel the tears form from behind her eyes, threatening to spill, and she doesn't want to feel like this.

Three days ago, things were perfect. Three days ago, she loved him more than anything in this world, and she was in this forever. She's still in this forever. But in saying no, is that saying no forever?

It's not, but she worries he'll think it is.

She falls asleep with it on her finger.

iii.

She feels like a failure.

He's staring at her with this expectant look on his face, his mouth twisted into a wry smile and her hearts kind of breaking. She can't give him the answer he wants, not now, not right at this second, in the hallways of McKinley. She hesitates, and blinks, and swallows, and that's all it takes for him to back off a little.

"I thought-"

"No, Finn, it's not what you think I'm just-"

"You hesitated. I asked you to marry me, and three days later I still can't get an answer? Rachel –"

She blinks again, this time because tears are stinging her eyes. They spill over without any notice and she doesn't even flinch to brush them away. He stops in his tracks when he sees her crying, brushing his thumb against her cheek.

He takes a step forward and she leans against him, pressing her face into his chest and closing her eyes. "I love you, I love you" sounds kind of like an unspoken mantra, but she feels stupid and ridiculous and the ring is still on her bedside table untouched and she just doesn't know what to do. In this situation, either way she feels like she's going to lose him.

She doesn't say anything. Anything.

She can't.

iv.

It's been twenty six hours since she hesitated, and she hasn't seen him, properly, since Glee practice yesterday. He's acting all calm, and he kissed her forehead as a goodbye, but she can tell he's breaking inside. She's breaking inside. She feels like in an instant everything got unnecessarily complicated and she just wants him. Just him.

She's sitting on her bed, curled up under the blankets with her hair in a messy bun when her door opens and he slips into her room, closing the door behind him. She sits up straight, her mouth opening a little. She wasn't expecting to see him. He doesn't look at her, not yet, and a little 'hi' falls from her lips, ever so quietly as she pushes the blankets off her legs a little. He moves over to her bed, kicks off his shoes, and crawls under the blanket with her, bringing it up to his hips. Then he finally looks at her.

"Hi," he says, so softly she can barely hear him, but her eyes still glisten with tears. She smiles, turning a little to face him. Her hand brushes his leg under the blanket.

"I missed you," she replies, biting her lip and waiting for him to say something. It should be her saying something, she knows this. She knows this, but she needs to hear it from him first.

He smiles at looks up at her from his lap. "I always miss you," he says, a small wry smile on his face.

She thinks she might start crying right there.

His eyes land on the tiny box on the bedside table and he reaches for it, bringing it to his lap. She watches him, watches him turn it over a couple of times in silence before flipping the lid open. It's empty.

He looks at her. She smiles a little, pulling her hand from underneath the blanket and placing her left hand on his lap, the ring glistening from her fourth finger. He smiles a little, brushing his fingers against the metal, across her finger, over the diamond. The look on his face is kind of making her fall in love with him all over again.

But she needs to say something.

"This isn't a yes," she says gently, looking down at the ring and back to him. His eyes are transfixed on hers now, his fingers still brushing against hers stilling. He opens his mouth but she shakes her head softly and turns her hand around to grab his. "I want to say yes."

"Then say it," he says, his voice cracking a little.

Her eyes well up with tears and she squeezes his hand a little tighter. "I can't."

She can't read the expression on his face, but it changes. Quickly. He looks away, his eyebrow creasing and she turns a little more, her knee brushing against his. She brings her free hand to his cheek and turns it to face her. She makes him face her.

"It's not a no, Finn. But it's not a yes. Look, I-" she stops, looking down and composing herself as she takes a deep breath to stop her voice from shaking. She looks up. His eyes are searching hers, and she squeezes his hand again. "We're so young. And this… –"she looks down at the ring before looking back at him. "Finn – It's not a no because I can't imagine not spending the rest of my life with you. When I see my future I see you. I can't say no, because you're my everything and I –" she looks down, tears spilling down her cheeks.

"I want to marry you Finn, but … not now. That's why this isn't a no. It's a … someday. It's a you have me forever, okay? Ring or no ring," she finishes, brushing her fingers against her cheek, wiping away her tears.

The look on his face is so intimate that she feels really nervous all of a sudden. Slowly, he reaches over and brushes his fingers against her jaw, cupping her cheek. He closes the distance between them, his free hand curling around her waist and pulling her against him. He kisses her softly, so softly, and she wants to cry all over again because god she loves him. She grips his shirt, her hand splaying across his chest over his t-shirt, and kisses him back, her wet cheek brushing against his.

He breaks away first, but doesn't pull away. He rests his forehead against hers, his fingers in her hair. "Okay," he says, his voice cracking a little. "I am … I am so in love with you, okay? And I'm … I'm not going anywhere."

She laughs a little, bumping her nose against his chin before she falls into his arms, her head resting in the crook of his neck. She's going to get his t-shirt a little wet, but she doesn't think he'll mind. They fall asleep like that, resting on the pillows. And she's still wearing the ring.

She thinks she might wear it around her neck.

He grins against her hair when she tells him this in the morning.