Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: She knew music was a part of his life. Now, it was the only thing to keep him in hers. Spoilers from Showmance. Emma/Will.
A/N: This is my first attempt into this fandom, so feedback is essential. I'm open in continuing this, but for now, it's an oneshot.
Emma didn't consider herself a music connoisseur, only knowing a few of the popular tunes on the radio. She had a few favorite, mostly from her high school years, when she could listen to her small pink radio, hidden in her bathroom late at night as she scrubbed the mildew around the rim. She allowed the fragrances drench her senses, the bubble gum pop tunes filtering in and out of her conscious while the residue disappeared. It was her special time, a time apart from the usual hum-drum existence she was plagued with, but her own. She wasn't judged, was overseen by the dominating organisms that threatened her on a daily basis, just her isolated time to discover arrangements, neatly decoded in fragments digitally mastered for her ears. But it was few and far between that recently. She drove down the empty boulevard, the raining splashing across her windows as she neared the school campus.
It wasn't until the past few weeks, his presence in the Glee club that brought her looking through her extremely small record collection. Her thoughts drifted over looking at the glossy containers, the slight cracking sound to the jewel case and the glimmer of the CDs, how they reflected not only her face, but its small flaws. She nearly thought she saw her distant memories, ones where she wasn't always concerned with the two dust particles that worked their way onto her Boys II Men CD, where she wouldn't spend the next fifteen minutes cleaning it scrupulously. But somehow, being surrounded by it, the lyrics not being more than simple ballads, made him closer to her. She could connect to it, like he did. And maybe than she could handle the lonely nights, the distant, melancholy dreams she experienced quite often, regardless if she knew her inner desires would never be requited. Like she had told Ken, she had to deal with it in on her own, and this was only the beginning. If he loved music, so could she.
As she pulled into the parking lot, she watched the rain more closely, like it was erasing her shameful thoughts and giving her a second chance to start over. She remembered always being fond of the rain, the whole cleansing process ignited her attention, the smell at times would be able to penetrate the small of the dairy farm from ages ago, the freshness heightening her senses. She held herself together, wrapping her arms around her, afraid to leave the car. Leaving it, she would expose herself to the elements, and as much as she denied the alluring way it pattered on the window shield, she needed to hold onto the raw emotion that left her throat raw and bloody from the tears she'd would shed alone, the tears she knew he may never wipe away, only creating a vicious cycle of loneliness she was willing to rip herself away form. She clawed at the door handle, unsure of her next until the radio played an oldie, a song written for the broken heart. And as the tears came in waves, so did the wanting. She sang along with the Eric Cameron hit with as much passion as she could muster, the lyrics etching on her vocal chords, longing for a home in his ears, despite the rain, the immeasurable distance, and the truth that could never be vocalized. He was married. Had been married. And she was Emma. Those were facts and they remained right behind her eyes, not even the most strong disinfectant could remove that.
It wasn't until a simple tap on her window woke her up from her reverie. The song was long over, had been for over five minutes as an old Wilson Phillips song played lightly. She looked over, seeing Will's head just over the glass. Checking her makeup, she looked a fright with her mascara ran down her cheeks. Doing a thorough but hasty redo, she rolled her window hesitantly as his sparkling smile restored light to the overcast parking lot. "Hey."
"Good morning, Will." She cleared her throat, the raw sensation returning. "How are you?"
"Okay, all this rain's not making it any better." He seemed distracted, smiling glumly. "What's up with you?"
She looked around her car, seeing her umbrella properly tucked under her passenger seat. She bit her lip, turning back to Will. "I forgot my umbrella. I was waiting until the rain stopped before I went inside."
Will chuckled. "Well, I have a perfectly good umbrella, if you don't mind sharing."
Emma nearly yanked the door from its hinges as she grabbed her purse and lunch bag from the passenger seat, opening the door in one fluid motion. "Thank you. I wasn't sure how long I'd be waiting."
"No problem. I heard it's going to be raining most of the day, and I wouldn't want to miss you at lunch." He gave her another reserved smile, moving closer to her as they walked in stride toward the building. As they passed other students, she couldn't concentrate on anything else outside of a curl that seemed to loop just over his ear. She felt raindrops on her shoulders and the smell of his cologne clogging her air, she felt lightheaded. She hadn't realized she was humming until Will chuckled. "What's that?"
"Huh?"
"The song. Isn't that 'Hold On' by Wilson Phillips? God, I haven't heard that song in years." They had reached the underpass, taking down the umbrella. "You sound nice."
"Thank you." She could feel the blush before she could stop it, checking her clothes instead. She felt her skin crawl, needing to rid them immediately in her office, relieved she kept two spare outfits at all time for moments like this. She was positive she had a blow dryer as well, knowing her hair looked curly. Snapping out of her thought pattern, she noticed Will looking at her, waiting for a response. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Oh, just said I'll see you at lunch." He smiled, as if he wasn't ready to part ways, turning away.
Defying her better judgment, she followed him. "Hey..." She faced him again, his surprised expression reassured her. "Is everything okay?"
"Oh, it's nothing. Just... me and Terri. We had kinda a big fight this morning. Don't worry about me. Besides, I'd better get going. I have a class in like fifteen minutes, but I'll see at lunch, right?"
"You betcha." She smiled, the few times she allowed herself to truly smile was in his presence, before he walked further down the hall and made that inevitable turn, leaving her alone again, left to hum an old 90s tune about holding on for things to change, believing in a false hope that he would ever leave his pregnant wife and run into her arms, the only ones that ached for him for so long. But what else did she have but hope. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing at all.
FIN.
Like I said, totally willing to make this into a longer story, but I'm satisfied with it as an oneshot. Cheers!