Title: and I am done with my graceless heart
Summary: She has something old, something new, something borrowed. And now, gazing at her reflection in the long mirror before her, she sees something blue.
Character/Pairing: Quinn Fabray, Quinn/Puck
Rating: G
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me.
Note: Quinn's wedding day. A Quinn Fabray/Noah Puckerman story – which makes it AU now, I suppose.
Our love has pastured, such a mournful sound
"You're inviting Noah?"
They have been sitting in silence so long that Quinn actually leaps at the sound of her friend's voice. Upon realizing what Rachel is referring to, she goes back to stuffing envelopes in an attempt to appear casual.
"You think it's a bad idea?" she replies, sure Rachel can hear the hesitance in her voice.
"I think it's your wedding."
"So you think it's a bad idea," she says sullenly and Rachel goes quiet for a moment.
"Quinn," she says softly, clasping her friend's hand. "I think it's your wedding. And I think you should do what you like." Rachel smiles warmly at her before rising and walking into the living room.
Quinn fingers the edge of the envelope gently before placing it, face down, beside her.
The responses trickle in slowly and Quinn smiles brightly as she makes her way through the mail each day. Nearly two hundred invitations have gone out and all but a handful have responded. Still, she can't help but feel a bit disappointed once she realizes none of the cards bear Puck's familiar penmanship.
On the day of, she wakes up and stretches languidly before turning on her side. She can't help but feel like something is missing and as she slides on her gown and fastens her shoes hours later, she stops pretending she doesn't know what it is.
She has something old, something new, something borrowed. And now, gazing at her reflection in the long mirror before her, she sees something blue.
People have been floating in and out of the small bridal room all day. Quinn has taken to sitting at the vanity, the chaos surrounding her. She wrings her hands in an attempt to expel her nerves before turning to the mirror. She is twisting a curl absently when a knock sounds at the door. "Come in," she calls and has to hide her disappointment when it's her sister's face to appear. "Almost time. How are you feeling?"
"Good!" she replies, her smile bright. Frannie winks before closing the door and for this Quinn is glad.
She doesn't know how she would have explained the tears in her eyes had she not been fooled.
The soft strains of processional music reach her ears and she makes to stand, knowing her cue is quickly approaching. She moves to the mirror a final time as a knock sounds at the door. "Come in," she calls softly, gliding a gentle finger across her lower lip.
She hears the faint click of the latch as the door closes and her breath catches.
"Quinn," he says simply and her eyes well at the sound of his voice.
She turns to face him and for a moment she is hesitant. Even now, at twenty eight, does she feel vulnerable beneath his stare.
"You came," she whispers and her throat closes up. He looks ... like Puck. Like the Puck she remembers.
"Of course I came," he says smiling shyly, and then, "You look beautiful, Q."
She is in his arms before she can register closing the distance between them and for a moment she is seventeen again. (Did you love me?)
He is holding her so tightly she can feel his heart beating beneath his shirt and still she wishes he would hold her closer. She wishes he would wrap himself around her, wishes she could disappear inside of him the way she did as a girl.
Wishes they could've gotten their happily ever after.
He pulls back a moment later and she takes a deep breath as he tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. She smiles and searches his face. She needs to remember this, always.
A gentle knocking sounds and Rachel's voice can be heard from the other side of the door.
"I'm coming," Quinn calls, her eyes never leaving Puck. He smiles softly before leaning forward and gently pressing his lips to her forehead. She closes her eyes and inhales him for a moment before moving towards the door. Her hand grazes the handle as Puck calls out to her.
"No one loves you like I do," his voice is barely above a whisper, his back to her, as she smiles, her eyes bright.
(Yes, especially now.)
"No one ever will," she says softly.
She made a beautiful bride.