So hi guys! I decided to start writing fics more often since I've seen that some of you like my work, and because I genuinely enjoy writing stuff. Hopefully this is up to y'all's standards. Feedback is always welcome and quite appreciated. ^_^
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee nor the characters. If I did, Faberry would've been canon since Season 1, Finn wouldn't exist at all, Samcedes would still be on, and Brittana would go on double dates with Faberry at least once per season. Oh, and Klaine and Tike wouldn't have broken up for no reason.
This antique diamond is all I can offer you. You are probably the most beautiful human being on this planet. The beautiful straw-colored hair that gracefully rests against your chin glows under the sun as you stand in front of me here in Central Park. The shell-shocked expression on your face tells me that you weren't expecting this. I truly don't know if I should take that as a good sign or a bad one. I mean, we've been together for seven years. We've been together since your senior year of high school. We made our long distance relationship work, and we never cheated on each other. It only seemed natural and fitting that I popped the question in the city that you love the most: New York City (for some odd reason). I mean come on, the only appeal to this city is the fact that your best friend Rachel lives here and can score you tickets to almost every Broadway show that's running at the moment.
I remember you telling me about how tough it was going to be in the long run. How our relationship would ultimately fail because of our different interests and the fact that you left for college before I was done with high school. I didn't believe any of it, of course. I would've been a fool to not fight for you. You were, and still are, worth it all. I remember thinking that our relationship could survive it all. That I could help you get over whoever it was that you were pinning for throughout your senior year. I remember thinking that one day you would realize that I was better for you, and that you'd fall in love with me. I truly believed that we would get our happily ever after… but now, as I stare into your sorrow-filled hazel irises, I realize that I was wrong. I realize that I was, and still am, completely and utterly foolish when it comes to love. I can't believe that I have been so blind for all these years.
I should've seen it coming.
I remember calling you almost daily just to hear the alto timbre of your voice. I didn't care that all you talked about, well more like complained about, was Rachel and how blind she was because she was still dating the man-child with the frame of a fucking tree called Finn Hudson. I remember thinking that it was unusual how that was the only thing you complained about. You never complained about your classes, and in fact I don't remember if you ever told me about what you majored in at all. You never complained about your back and how it would always feel sore during the winter because you never fully recovered from the accident. You never talked about what you did during your day, or what you ate for lunch, or the weather, or any of your new friends from Yale. You never talked about anything related to you or who you are as a person. You never let me in.
It was always about Rachel.
It was always: "Oh my God, she is SO FRUSTRATING! Why won't she listen to me?! Or "You'll never guess what Rach and I talked about earlier…", or "She got the part! I can't wait to see her perform on a Broadway stage!"
I should've known earlier.
You never told me that you loved me. Ever. Even after we had sex (I would call it making love because that's what that meant to me), you never said the words back. All you ever did was lay motionless on your side of the bed, curl your beautiful alabaster-skinned body into my naked, muscular frame, and cry into my chest. I used to think that was the way you expressed your love for me, you know me being an optimistic person and all. Now I realize that every time we made lo… had sex, you lost a small part of yourself to me, the man who you never loved. You'd cry tears of melancholy and sorrow because you were giving yourself to someone you had no sense of passion towards...
I am so sorry.
"… I'm sorry, Quinn. I shouldn't have done this…" I whisper as I get off my knee and put the velvet colored box back in my pocket of my old, whitewashed jeans.
"I'm sorry I made you cry all these years."
"No, it isn't your fault! It's just… I love her. I have always loved her…" she softly replied as she wiped the tears that smear her perfect, ivory cheeks.
"I know you do. I think that some part of me always knew that you loved her and that I never stood a chance, yet I still clung to you for all these years because you never truly asked me to go away. I figured that as long as I had you, I didn't need you to reassure me that you loved me, if you ever did…"
"But I do love..."
"Don't. Just… don't."
She pierces my gaze with those tearful, angelic eyes of hers, and I finally break.
I choke back sobs as I finally turn away from her and her beautiful honey-colored eyes. I can't take the regret I see in those eyes and the way her shoulders hunch as she stands there in her favorite white dress with a rose colored cardigan. I can't accept the fact that she regrets all the time she spent with me. I just can't. I can't accept the fact that she regrets all the times we went to the nearest park we could find in both New Haven and Lima and just hung around the swing sets as if we were young kids. I can't take the fact that she regrets all the candlelight dinners I set up for her.
But most of all, I can't accept the fact that she's lied to me for the past seven years.
"Sam, I…"
"Do you love her, Quinn? Do you truly love her? Will you be willing to do anything for her? Do you love her enough to let her go if she ever asks you to?" I question as I don't voice the most the thought that's been crossing my mind throughout this whole conversation.
Do you love her like I love you?
"I love her with all that I am. I would do anything she asked of me, and if she was mine I'd vow to make her the happiest woman on this earth every single day. I would die for her, Sam." She passionately states as she unknowingly drives the traitorous knife that is the despair that's consuming me further into my heart, making its cut deeper and the wound completely unbearable.
"Then go get your girl, Quinn Fabray."
The way her face lights up at the mention of her girl is truly astonishing. She never smiled that radiant smile that's on her face now in the entirety of our relationship. The most I would get was a cute giggle accompanied with a tiny smirk, but that 100 watt smile that complements her beautiful cheekbones was always reserved for Rachel.
It's always been her. It's always been Rachel Barbra Berry…
"Thank you, Sam. Just… thank you" she sighs before she brushes her lips against mine with the grace and delicacy of a goddess for one last time as I finally set her free.
"Go get your girl, and be the happiest human alive Quinn. Go find Rachel, and let her bring you the happiness that I could never give to you" I brokenly whisper as my eyes follow Quinn's figure as she steadily approaches a taxi that would take her to Broadway. To Rachel.
Go get your girl, Fabray.