The month of May ends completely opposite to how she planned it.
... ... ...
She looks at apartments with her dads and somehow, somehow keeps a soft smile on her lips. She knows the smile doesn't reach her eyes and she knows her dads know as well. But she forces her head to stay upright and manages to place one foot in front of the other.
When she walks into what seems to be the 27th teeny tiny apartment that they've looked at, she just knows. It's ridiculously small. The living room and kitchen are basically one small, but open room. The bedroom is just big enough to fit a double bed and narrow dresser and it doesn't even have real walls. The huge window box in the kitchen is the only thing she sees and she walks over, runs her hand over the dusty molding. It faces a brick wall, but she's pretty sure she could fit several flower pots on the sill. She turns and leans against the counter, her dads already smiling.
"Home." She breathes.
... ... ...
If June in New York is any indication of what the summer has in store, she's going to melt into a sweaty puddle . Of course, she was used to summers in Ohio. They were more humid than hot, but New York was different. New York was stifling. She's walking home from dance class, in the suffocating heat when she sees the help wanted sign. She's been in New York for just barely a month and despite the heat, she absolutely loves it with every fiber of her being. She convinced her dads to move her immediately. She explained to them that she didn't want to lose the apartment to another college hopeful and that starting the NYADA summer program would help her settle into the routine of school and give her more of an edge. She was Rachel Berry after all. Her dads agreed and with tears in their eyes (and hers), they hugged her tightly and promised they would take a weekend trip soon.
She didn't explain to them that her heart couldn't handle the thought of going back to Lima. The thought of hearing about him and heaven forbid, see him, was enough to take the breath right out of her body. No, she would stay in New York. She would keep hanging on. She would keep moving on.
When she sees the homemade help wanted sign in the window of the little coffee shop on her way to school, she gets an idea. She's only taking two dance classes and one voice lesson and she could use the money. She knew her dads would always see to it that she was comfortable, but she still wanted to make her own way. Even though her dads were paying for school and her rent, she could still use the extra money to buy her school books, groceries and flowers for her window box. She gets hired on the spot. It's part-time because the coffee shop is owned and operated by an eccentric, but incredibly kind couple. They are more than willing to work with her school schedule every semester and they love (she thinks) her determination. She thinks June ends really well.
... ... ...
July was hotter than June if you can believe it. Her voice lessons are hard and the dance classes harder still, but she couldn't love it much more. She's met a few other students at NYADA who are all nice in their own ways, but they mostly keep to themselves and for now, she's fine with that. Her teachers are hard on her and push her past what she thought her limits were. She knows she might have a chance when she nails a complicated dance move all while busting out an even more complicated song. Her crazy dance teacher, Ms. Monroe, actually does a fist pump and mutters under her breath "Upcoming triple threat". Her smile is much closer to meeting her eyes.
She's on her way home when her phone vibrates in her pocket and she smiles, knowing that it's almost 5:00pm and it's Kurt Time. Except, it's not Kurt. She stops walking completely and stares at the message.
"I know you're knocking their socks off."
It's only six words, but it's enough for her stomach to completely flip and her breathing to shorten. She hadn't let herself miss him. Until now. And it was coming close to over-powering her.
She calls Kurt as soon as she gets out of the shower and she's pacing around the tiny living room/kitchen when she tells him off the text.
"I don't hear from him in over two months and this is what I get, Kurt? A six word message?"
She raises an eyebrow when she hears Kurt draw in a deep breath.
"He just misses you, Rachel. That's all."
His response annoys her. She goes on a lengthy spiel about who does Finn think he is, toying with her heart with his message after he hasn't once spoken to her. Can he not explain himself to her? She should reply by saying she hopes he's knocking the socks off of the Army. Kurt finally cuts her off with a firm yet gentle "Rachel, stop."
"I know you both are trying to piece back together your lives. Without each other. Cut the guy some slack, though. He kept going back and forth with what he was going to say to you for a couple of weeks. He didn't want to get you off track, but he wanted you to know that he still believes in you. So so much. He misses you, Rachel. And it's okay for you to miss him, too."
She hangs up with Kurt, but not before she apologizes to him and quietly thanks him. It takes her twenty minutes to get off the couch. And another forty minutes before she slowly opens her dresser drawer and reaches for the over-sized Property of McKinley Football sweatshirt. She sits on the bed and another ten minutes passes before she slips her hand into the sleeve and pulls out the velvet box. She falls asleep with the sweatshirt covering her and the ring on her finger.
... ... ...
The fall semester officially starts in the month of August and soon Rachel is consumed with history of music classes, dance classes, vocal lessons and more dance classes. She's in classes every day starting in the morning and she's out by 4:00. She works a two to three shifts in the evening at the coffee shop and helps out with the lunch rush on Saturdays. Sundays are her day off, though. The coffee shop is closed on Sundays and Rachel is thankful. She uses Sundays to sleep til 8am, do homework and clean her tiny apartment.
It's one Sunday, late in August, when Rachel's sitting on the floor, sheet music and notebooks surrounding her when a loud knock is heard at the door. Rachel groans, thinking that her next door neighbor, who is older and a bit absent-minded, locked herself out again. She throws open the door and stops in midsentence.
"Locked out ag-"
Except, it's not Mrs. O'Malley. Santana grins back at her, a large suitcase by her side and a duffel bag slung over her shoulder.
"Well, hey there, roomie."
The hug she gives Santana must have been a bit long because Santana eventually peels Rachel's arms off her shoulders. Santana steps into the apartment, throwing her bag to the ground and surveying the surroundings with both hands set on her hips.
"I don't think this place is going to fit us both, Berry."
... ... ...
They move into a more comfortable two bedroom apartment in September. It's not much bigger than Rachel's old place and Santana was made to pinky promise that while Rachel didn't care much about their apartment, she had to have a window box to put her flowers. Santana did her one better. The apartment they rented had the world's smallest balcony. Rachel squealed when she saw it and crushed Santana with another hug.
"Okay, okay, Berry. I get it, you like it. Now, we need to come up with a signal to let you know when I wants to gets my groove on."
Rachel rolls her eyes and throws a flip-flop in Santana's direction. She thinks to herself that September is one damn good month.
... ... ...
October rushes in and before she knows it, Rachel is finishing up with midterms. While indulging in a celebratory coffee at the mini coffee cart at school, she literally runs into another student and her coffee nearly slips out of her gloved hand. The other student apologizes profusely, offers to buy her another coffee even. She takes in the sight of the incredibly cute guy standing before her. His tousled dark hair is sexy and his eyes a bright blue. He's still holding onto her hand that nearly lost her coffee. She pulls it away and laughs nervously, assures him she's fine and there's no need for a new coffee. He grins at her and she's startled when he asks her out quite bluntly.
"How about I buy you another coffee tomorrow, then?"
She's taken by him. His smile is sincere and god, he's good-looking. It's not until she's walking home that she realizes she didn't need to strain her neck to look or talk to him. She shakes it off.
Santana is more excited than Rachel about her date. She's literally dressing Rachel, pulling dresses over her head and stepping back to appraise her work. Santana isn't satisfied and yanks the dress off of Rachel and turns back to her closet, throwing clothes to the floor. Rachel groans and picks up a simple sundress and cardigan. Santana threatens to do away with Rachel's flowers. Rachel throws up her hands in surrender and Santana throws a black cocktail dress at Rachel's head.
"I'm not sure about this, San."
Santana just claps and motions for Rachel to do a little spin. The pretty (and just a bit sparkly) black dress hugs Rachel nicely and Santana's red heels adds a "punch of color" (Santana's words). She nervously twirls a piece of hair around her finger while her other hand fiddles with the red apple necklace that rests at the hollow of her throat.
"You look hot! I'd do you."
Rachel ignores her words and bites her lower lip.
"What if I can't carry the conversation? Or spill food on myself? Or sneeze in front of him?"
Santana skillfully raises one eyebrow.
"Sneeze in front of him? Berry, stop worrying and get some!"
Rachel walks out, shaking her head and threatening to put her sweats back on.
Santana literally pushes her out the door and jokingly tells Jake to have her home by ten. She watches Jake put his hand gently around Rachel as they walk out. She's still watching when Rachel turns quickly and sticks out her tongue. Santana just laughs and waves.
... ... ...
Rachel slips in the door, her back turned to close it quietly.
"It's 9:45, Berry."
She jumps out of her skin and shrieks. Santana's sitting on the couch, her pajama clad legs propped up on the coffee table, her law book in hand. She pushes her reading glasses at the edge of her nose, waiting for an explanation.
"It was fine, San. Perfectly lovely date. He took me to this cute Italian place, asked me about myself, laughed at my dumb jokes, paid for everything and gave me a sweet goodnight kiss. Perfectly lovely."
She's slipping off her uncomfortable shoes and taking off her coat, all while avoiding Santana's eyes.
"But...? What, Berry? He smell bad? Did he eat with his mouth open? He doesn't still live with his parent, does he?"
Rachel sighs and goes to sit next to her friend, swallowing the lump in her throat. She will not cry. No, she will not be the girl who cries after the first date since a break-up.
"He's lovely, San. Just not what I expected, that's all."
She bows her head, still not able to look Santana in the eye. The lump in her throat is growing by the second and she's pretty sure that those are tears streaming down her face.
"Berry, what did you expect?"
Rachel finally lifted her head, no longer being able to contain the sob that bubbled from her throat.
"Oh. Oh. Rachel..."
Silently and quickly, Santana tossed her book to the ground and pulled Rachel into her. She wasn't sure how long she sat there, Rachel curled into a ball, her head on Santana's lap, her cries so raw and heart-wrenching that Santana would never admit that those were tears streaking her own cheeks.
... ... ...
November seemed to be dragging on forever. It had been a few weeks since Rachel's breakdown and Santana was packing her suitcase to return to Lima for Thanksgiving. She was struggling to zip up the suitcase and moaned loudly while falling onto the bag in frustration.
"Could use a little help here, Berry."
Rachel looked up from her perch on Santana's bed, her head buried in some weird juice diet book. She laughed while shrugging her shoulders in sympathy.
"You always pack too much, San. Do you really need four sets of heels for a long weekend?"
Santana groaned again, even louder and sprawled her body across the suitcase. Rachel rolled her eyes at Santana's antics and moved off the bed to sit on her friend's suitcase while she zipped it up.
"How can I talk you into going back with me? You can't forget the god-forsaken Midwest town you came from forever, Berry."
Truth be told, Rachel was itching to go back to Lima. She had entertained the thought of visiting her hometown time and time again. Yet, as much as she missed her dads and friends that were still in high school and oh, did she miss Kurt. She couldn't bring herself to fly back to her little town. She knew there was no chance of running into him. Santana had told her that he was down south, in Georgia. He'd been at bootcamp since June and planned to be there for at least the next year. Finn couldn't even come home for the holidays. She thought of him often. Like when she was shopping for Christmas presents for her dads and saw a knit cap that looked like the one that Finn wore every winter. Or when she'd stumbled across Finn's favorite movie on TV. Or when she would see an ad for the Army. She respected him greatly, now. For what he was doing for his country and also, what he did for her. She thinks this is what moving on feels like.
There was just too much history back home. So many good memories despite the hard ones and she wished to keep it that way. Keeping herself in New York, she managed to distance herself from Lima and not just in miles.
"You know I'm picking up my dads from the airport in a couple hours. Don't tell me you're going to miss me, Santana."
Sometimes she had to pinch herself to believe that her and Santana were friends. Best friends and roommates at that. She couldn't imagine living in New York without her, though. They balanced each other out, Santana brought down Rachel's crazy a bit and Rachel surprisingly motivated Santana to work harder, better. Secretly, she was going to miss her roommate and Rachel couldn't wait for Santana to return home so they could decorate their tiny apartment for their first Christmas/Hannukah in New York.
"Miss your rousing renditions of Celine at 6:00 in the morning? I think I'll manage. Shit! It's after 11, I've gots to go. See you in a few days, Berry!"
Santana slaps Rachel's butt as she's heading out the door, tight dress and heels no less. Rachel laughs and waves. November is so much better than October.
... ... ...
The first weekend in December ushered in winter with a vengeance by way of a snowstorm. The snow had started falling in the early hours of Friday morning and when Rachel's alarm went off at 6am and started her routine of making coffee, she noticed the snow piled outside her window. Quickly making her way to the sliding glass door to the balcony, she pushed the curtains aside and proceeded to place her hands on the cold glass. The snow had blanketed the city with the brilliant sparkling powder. The normal hustle and bustle of the city had ceased. There were no cabs, no honking, no people pushing their way through the streets. It was breathtaking. Rachel undid the lock and slid open the door, stepping out onto the snow covered balcony. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, snowflakes landing on her hair and hands out-stretched to catch the flakes. She had never felt so at peace.
The wet snow seeping through her wool socks interrupted her moment of tranquility. Rachel couldn't contain her excitement and hurried back inside to Santana's bedroom, throwing open the door and bouncing on the sleeping Latino's bed.
"Get up, Santana! It's beautiful outside! You have to see the snow!"
Santana groaned and flipped over in her warm bed.
"You've got snow in your hair."
Rachel grinned and put her hands together, resting over her heart.
"It's like another world out there. So quiet and peace-"
A pillow hit Rachel square in the face.
"The snow will still be there at 9am. Now get your snow-angel body off my bed."
... ... ...
They had been stuck in the apartment for a full two days since classes had been canceled for Friday and both the coffee shop and Santana's upscale bar had told her girls to stay in. The snow day had been fun at first with Santana and Rachel watching movies and making dinner in their pajamas that they hadn't taken off all day. Saturday was proving to be more difficult, though, with both women starting to get restless. They had even fought over who was going to go downstairs to get the mail. After a heated Rock, Paper, Scissors game, Santana whooped and hollered while pulling on her boots. Rachel swatted Santana's hand away when she patted her head.
"Don't furrow your forehead like that, Berry, you'll give yourself early onset wrinkles."
Thirty minutes later, the front door blew open. Rachel turned from her position on the couch and lowered her book as Santana waltzed into the room. Rachel raised an eyebrow at the cheshire grin painted on her roommate's face.
"Umm, pretty sure it doesn't take thirty minutes to get the mail that's downstairs, Santana."
Santana smirked and pulled off her boots to set them on the welcome rug that Rachel insisted they put by the front door.
"No, but it does take thirty minutes to have a conversation with the hottest guy in the building."
Rachel choked on the coffee that she had just sipped, her eyes wide and questioning.
"What about Brittany, Santana? And the fact that you like girls?"
Santana merely shrugged and sat in the overstuffed chair across her incredulous friend.
"Simmer down, Berry. I can still appreciate the fine quality of the male species. Here, you've got mail."
Santana tosses a thick envelope into Rachel's lap. Rachel grinned and ripped open the paper, clamoring on about her love for getting mail, Santana's sexuality forgotten. As she pulled out the contents, she quickly got quiet, staring at the pretty invitation.
"Looks like Lima is going to see you after all."
Rachel looked up, emotion written all over her face. She took in a slightly shaky breath.
"I guess I need a plane ticket."
... ... ...
A short three weeks later, Rachel and Santana were on a plane back to Lima, their former teacher and guidance counselor set to get married that weekend. Rachel couldn't banish the wave of nerves that had flooded her body and Santana had already threatened to move seats, saying how she couldn't believe such a tiny person could make so much annoying noise.
Her nerves disappeared, however, when she saw the group of friends waiting for them. Rachel squealed and ran into Kurt's waiting arms, hugging and kissing the cheeks of the rest of the group. Walking out with Blaine's arm around her shoulder and Kurt holding onto her other arm, she couldn't help but feel that someone was missing.
... ... ...
The chapel was small, the guests crowded on the wooden pews. Despite being squished between Tina and Blaine, Rachel couldn't help herself from looking around the venue. Blaine nudged her in the side after he caught her looking over her shoulder for the tenth time.
"Looking for someone in particular?"
She blushed and nudged him back.
"No, I'm just appreciating the loveliness of the wedding, Blaine. Miss Pillsbury really outdid herself."
She was about to start in on how much she loved the effect of the room lit only by candles when Blaine's hand gently squeezed her thigh. Any breath left in her escaped her body when she saw him slip into the pew in front of her. As he was settling into his seat, his eyes found hers. The piano started playing its melody and their gaze was interrupted as everyone turned to watch the procession of the bridal party. Closing her eyes briefly to compose herself, she let out the breath that she didn't even realize she was holding.
... ... ...
The ceremony was simple and sincere. They had written their own vows and when Emma brushed away the tears that fell from Will's eyes as he recited his proclamation of love to his wife, Rachel's heart clenched and started blinking as fast as she could to fight off the tears. She was fighting twice as hard to keep from looking to her right. She could feel his gaze on her though and she relented, his eyes once again claiming hers. She forced herself to look away a second time and focused on the couple at the altar. She felt defeated, though, when the image of the couple standing at the altar, promising to love each other til the day they died changed into her and Finn.
She stood with the rest of the crowd while the newly Mr. and Mrs. Schuester happily walked out of the chapel. She clasped Blaine's hand that was resting on her shoulder and as she turned, she had a feeling that he was no longer in the pew in front of her. She was right.
... ... ...
"Do you think it'll actually happen?
She was lying on his chest, his fingers twirling and tangling in her hair. He smiled and she knew his answer before he even opened his mouth.
"We're going to have the most kick-ass wedding, Rach."
She hadn't even finished placing a kiss on his chest when he rolled them over, his face hovering above hers and clasping her hands in his over head. She shivered as he delicately kissed her nose, her eyelid, the corner of her mouth. He quickly dropped one of his hands and brushed his fingertips just past the waistband of her panties, her skin alit with fire.
"I can't wait to call you my wife."
She couldn't imagine loving him any more than in this very moment.
"I like the sou-"
Forming words was lost as his fingers made their way into her body.
... ... ...
The sound of clinking wine glasses around her brought Rachel back into the present. Her face was hot and she lifted her curled hair off her neck while grabbing her water glass, emptying it two giant swallows.
"Thinking about hottie McArmy man?"
Santana whispered the words into Rachel's ear and as the blush deepened Rachel's complexion, Santana only laughed harder when Rachel threatened to tell Brittany about hottie Mcapartment-building man.
"Umm, hi everyone. I'm Finn Hudson. Former student of Mr. Schue's..."
Rachel turned around so quickly, her neck ached from the sudden movement. She couldn't take her eyes off Finn. She was finally seeing the whole of him. He seemed to stand taller. His hair was shorter, but still not short enough to be a buzz cut. She wondered about that. He was definitely built. She could see his muscles even beneath that suit of his. His face was thinner, but chiseled somewhat. His clean-shaven face was no more and was wearing a slight scruff. It worked quite well for him. She was poked in the side again, Santana mouthing "Sexy" and winking at Rachel. Rachel ignored Santana's and turned back to Finn who was rubbing the back of his neck while telling a story about Mr. Schue. He paused after the story, allowing everyone to laugh. He cleared his throat and started again.
"I just want to say, Mr. Schue, that thank you doesn't even come close. You have been a part of showing me how to be a man, a good man. I know that a love like yours is hard to find..."
Finn's eyes went straight to Rachel, his eyes soft.
"I know what it's like to love and love hard."
He was still looking at her, his eyes searching her own.
"Love hard, Mr. Schue. Love her well. Love her well when the road is easy. Love her well in the worst of times."
Rachel wanted more than anything to disappear. She wanted to tear her gaze away but the way he still had a hold of her, surprised her. She knew that he would always hold a large piece of her heart, probably would still love him for the rest of her life. She was so sure of herself. So sure that while seeing him would be no doubt somewhat difficult, would be the closure that she needed. She thought she was moving forward. And here he was talking about loving hard and how he knew what that felt like. She felt like she was back at square one. She wanted to scream.
"I wish you both the blessings in your new lives together. Let's raise our glasses to the new Mr. and Mrs. Schuester!"
She wanted to throw her glass of champagne at his head.
Santana leaned over and patted her friend's back having noticed the scowl on Rachel's face.
"There's an empty coat closet by the back bathrooms."
Rachel nearly sputtered her champagne at Santana's words. Santana just grinned.
"Drink your champange, my tiny friend. Just drink."
She finished her glass in one gulp.
... ... ...
Rachel managed to get through dinner and even made conversation with her friends. She asked questions about what was going on in their lives and they asked her about New York. She quickly became restless, trying not to be noticeable while she scanned the guests in the reception hall. The band was getting set up and she knew that they would doing the first dance soon. She excused herself, claiming that the champagne has gone straight through her. Santana watched her friend stand up and leave the table, walking out of the room, her head swiveling back and forth. Santana looked over at Blaine who was watching the same thing she was. Blaine leaned over, placing his hand on the table, palm up.
"25 bucks says Finn and Rachel get back together by the end of the night."
Santana snorted and patted his hand.
"Did you see the way he was eye-fucking her during his little speech? He had Berry squirming in her seat. 25 bucks says they get it on in the coat closet."
Laughing, the two friends high five, bump fists and shake hands.
... ... ...
Rachel stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, gripping the edge of the sink. She ran a hand through her hair and stared back at her reflection.
"Get a hold of yourself, Berry. You're an intelligent, independent woman who can handle seeing her former boyfriend. You can do this."
She took a breath to steady herself and went out the door. She didn't even get two steps before she ran into his strong form. Without thinking, he reached out to grab arms to prevent her from falling backwards. She looked up at him, a half-smile across his face. She couldn't say much more than "Hey".
"Hey yourself."
Seeing him inches from her was even different than seeing him from a distance. How the hell could somebody be that good-looking? Of course, she was attracted to him while they were together. But now...with him just barely touching her, her vision was blurred...she needed to stop.
"You can let me go now, I'm not going fall."
He blushed and removed his hands from her arms, taking a step back.
"I've missed you."
There it was. The cold water that she felt was thrown over her.
"Excuse me? I haven't seen you or heard from you seven months. That's what you have to say? I had to force myself to stop missing you."
The flash of hurt across his features seized her heart. She wouldn't apologize, though, she couldn't.
"And that speech of yours? About knowing what it's like to have loved hard? You wouldn't stop looking at me! All the looking! Stop looking!"
She wanted to hit him. She could just lift her arms and start beating him with her hands. Make him feel the hurt that she had had to endure. She hadn't noticed that he had gotten so close to her. She could feel his body heat radiating off him, he was that close. She went to back away, if she stayed this close, she couldn't think. She couldn't move though, she had backed up into a wall. She heard the band start to play and she wanted to see Emma and Will dance their first dance and she tells him so. He ignores her.
"To love."
Confused, she looked up at him. She sees the tears in his eyes and she was powerless to stop her body from sagging against the wall.
"I know what it's like to love. You said loved."
She couldn't help lifting her hand to brush away his tears. He grasped her hand and kissed her knuckles. She tried to push the thought of Mr. Schue doing the same gesture at the altar. She couldn't stop her own tears.
"Finn..."
He moved their clasped hands to his heart.
"I thought we were going to get married in May. But, I had to let you go. You needed to find your place in this world, in New York, without me. I don't think I cried more than I did in June. I cried in the shower, in the beds in bootcamp, on my runs. I cried every day. In July, I was angry. I was so angry at myself, at the world, at the guys in my Quadrant, at my dad, even at you. Everything reminded me about you in August. Everything I saw, things people would say, I even thought I saw you running toward me in a mirage during one of my runs in the Georgia heat. In September, I found out that because of an old injury way back in middle school, I would never be a solider. The only person I wanted to talk to was you. In October, I was jealous. I found out that you were living with Santana and I was so jealous of her. In November, I almost got on a plane when I found out you weren't coming back for Thanksgiving. I was actually at the airport, in line to buy a ticket and I couldn't do it. Not before I had a plan and a job. So I became a firefighter and I just started Paramedic school. I'm good at it, Rach. And now, it's December, and...and I miss you. I miss you."
She's crying hard now and he's cradling her cheek in his hand and she doesn't know when he put his other hand on her hip or how long it's been there. Her hands are wound up in his jacket, clenching the material in her fists. She swallows her tears because she needs to get this out. She has to.
"This whole time, Finn, I've felt I was missing a piece of my body, my soul, my heart."
Her voice breaks again she says heart and he doesn't waste any more time. He closes the space between them and kisses her. She keeps crying and he's crying and she wants him closer, closer still. She slips her hands past his jacket, gripping his white shirt with one hand and trailing her other hand up his torso, to his arm, to his shoulder and around his neck. He picks her up with the arm that's around her waist and the motion moves their lower halves together and she arches against him and he starts to move slowly. Through her haze, she manages to regretfully remove her mouth from his. She hears Will singing.
"Listen."
He looks confused for a moment, leans his forehead against hers.
"When this life tries to keep us apart, you keep callin' me back to your heart, let me hear you say. I'm so glad you found me, wrap you all around me. I'd never thought I'd find a love like this."
She laughs out loud and Finn joins her in her laughter. She thought it funny that Mr. Schue was singing a song that talked about finding love in high school.
"Does he realize that Sean Kingston raps in this song?"
She laughs harder and their bodies vibrate together as a result. He grips her hip tighter, his eyes darkening once again. He's just about to lower his mouth to hers when they hear the music stop abruptly and the strains of Etta James began to fill the room. Finn carefully lowered her down, her heeled feet touching the floor. He keeps his arms around her and starts to sway them back and forth, his cheek pressed to hers. He starts to sing along and she closes her eyes.
At last
My love has come along
My lonely days are over
And life is like a song
Oh yeah yeah, at last
The skies above are blue
My heart was wrapped up in clover
The night I looked at you
She looks up at him and he's looking at her with that look. She puts her hands on his face, feeling the stubble beneath her fingers.
"I never stopped loving you. Not once. I don't think I'm physically capable of not loving you."
He smiles and kisses her thumb that's resting at the corner of his mouth. He picks her up again.
"Good. Because that makes two of us."
She's up against the wall again and when his hands start to wander she reminds him they're still in public for the most part. He nods and reluctantly puts her down again. She looks around quickly and takes a deep breath. She grabs his hand and pulls him with her, her eyes searching the building. They round a corner and she finds the closet at the end of the hall. She steps in, holding out her hand for him to join her. He smirks as he looks around and raises an eyebrow when she closes the door with her foot.
"Santana told me it was empty."
She's surprised when he starts to laugh. Like, full on laughing where he couldn't get a breath. She's a little annoyed.
"What's so funny?"
He takes a breath and runs a hand through his hair. He notices that she's crossed her arms in front of her body. He reaches for her, untangling her arms.
"I love that you're taking cues from Santana."
She furrows her brow and pouts. He lifts her up, pressing her against the wall, his mouth devouring hers and his hands brushing the underside of her breast and within seconds, she's pliant in his arms. Her pout replaced by a moan and hooded eyes.
"It's hot."
She wraps her legs around his waist, pushing herself against his groin, already feeling his reaction to her.
"How hot?"
He pulls just enough away to look at her. He groans by just the look on her face and the biting of her lower lip. She's smirking back at him, a wave of confidence washing over her. She's taken by surprise when his hand dives underneath her dress and slips his fingers past her panties. She throws her head back and grasps at his jacket for leverage. His jacket falls to the floor at the same moment when her dress is pulled over her head. She pulls his hand away from her body and slips her own hands into his pants to undo the zipper and push his suit pants and boxers to the floor. She's just about to sink down on him when he stops her to ask about a condom. Her response is a mere whisper that she's on birth control. He needs no prodding after that.
They move together like it had been only seven minutes since they'd last been one like this instead of seven months. He muffled her moans with his mouth and his "I love you" is swallowed by own proclamation of her love for him.
There's no fireworks. No bright lights bursting behind their eyes.
It's just the two of them. Sharing a connection that no one could take away from them. And that's enough for them.
... ... ...
They walk back into the reception, the party in full swing. She waves at Santana on the dance floor who points to her hair, mouths "sex hair!" and Rachel just shrugs and takes a seat next to Finn. He wraps his arm around her, takes her hand in his and breathes into her ear.
"That's going to be us someday. Dancing like fools at their wedding."
She laughs, nods her head and kisses him full on the mouth.
"I'm going to hold you to that."
That's enough for her.
... ... ...
And you know, a love like that can't be measured in any way.
... ... ...
I take no ownership of the characters on Glee. Lyrics are from "Love Like This" by Natasha Bedingfield, "At Last" by Etta James and "Love like That" by Stew.