Notes: Placed in mature for sexual implications.
I sort of avoided using their names, so sorry if it's hard to follow. Also, it hasn't been betaed.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its characters. They belong to FOX.
A lonely figure sits at the edge of a bed; gaze focused downwards at her hands, waves of brown locks obscure the view of her face. The soft rapping on a window to her right draws attention. Slowly the figure stands, walking towards the sound. Each step precise, well-rehearsed, months of practice made this process second nature to the girl. She quietly opens the window and automatically steps back, prepared for the entrance of another.
The breeze from the open window brings with it a blonde haired specter. The brunette's gaze is still directed down, away from the other. Gentle fingers lift the girls face upwards, hazel locks with brown. No words are uttered; they never are, not now. Hesitant smiles, questioning glances, affirmative nods replace them. The taller one leans in and captures the others lips.
Slowly, they back away from where they stand, beginning their dance. Perfected, this dance does not require a spotlight; the moonlight is more than enough. Their footsteps introduce the opening notes of their duet. Legs collide with the edge of the bed causing the two to fall, enter percussion. Creaking of springs as the two reposition themselves bring in the strings. The rest of the orchestra joins in as fingers fumble with zippers and clasps, bed sheets rumple, clothes are hastily removed and discarded randomly about the floor.
They begin to sing a slow ballad. Breathless moans, loving sighs, soft gasps replace lyrics. Hands roam the opposite's body in appreciation. Feathery kisses are placed wherever lips can reach. Fingers gently run through flowing tresses. This gentle harmony continues only for a moment before the tempo increases.
Soft kisses become hungry, patient touches become more persistent, fluid movements become wild. Nips at the skin cause tiny whimpers, nails gripping into flesh cause feral growls, hands pulling on hair cause heated grunts. Sweat begins to shine off of both bodies, moving as one, causing an ethereal glow to surround the two. The song approaches its finale.
The final crescendo begins. The two begin to move more desperately, holding each other closer, seeking their release. Breaths of each other's name fill the air. With a final move, both come undone, singing their final note.
Both are exhausted from their number. Panting, they lie still, side by side, regaining their breath. The brunette is the first to recover. Rolling to face her opposite, she rests her head on the other's chest, listening to her heartbeat. The blonde looks down and smiles, placing a loving kiss on the top of the other's head before mindlessly stroking the brown locks. They stay in this blissful moment for a while.
Soft sobs interrupt the peace. Concerned hazel looks down. Pleading brown look up as a question passes through her lips. "Why?" The blonde sighs, this dialog memorized.
"You know why."
"I don't care."
"Everyone else does."
"Do you?"
"...Yes."
"…"
"Give me time."
"…"
The brunette's silence is expected. The blonde sighs again and begins to get up.
"How can something so perfect, so wonderful, be seen as something so repulsive? Who decided that they can define what love is? Is this not love? I want to be with you forever. I feel free when I'm around you, like I can do anything I set my mind on. You drive me to be a better person. So why can I not hold your hand in public, kiss you at my locker, sit on your lap in Glee, wrap my arms around you when talking with friends? Why is it so wrong?"
This outburst is unexpected, not part of the script, frightening. The blonde freezes in her tracks, not knowing what to do. So she does the only thing she knows how, return to the script. She gathers her clothes off the floor and begins to put them on.
"What does tomorrow bring? The same play we put on each day? We'll wear our costumes and act our parts, Quinn and Rachel, polar opposites and eternal enemies. They call me a diva, but we both know who the true star of the show is. You'll go back to acting like you hate me just to please the audience and gain their acceptance. At the end of the day, everyone will applaud you for your performance. Brava! But are you really happy? The only time you truly live your real life is in secrecy with me. Everywhere else, you're just another character in the world's tragic play."
Tears are freely falling from the brunette. The blonde, now fully clothed, moves back towards the bed. Hesitant hand reaches out before pulling back. This is not the same play as the nights before; the nights where the questions would end with a sad smile, a nod of understanding, a kiss goodbye, before finally slipping away into the dark. Loud sobs snap the blonde out of her thoughts. Improvisation, salvage the situation.
The blonde takes a seat next to the crying girl, wrapping her arms around shaking shoulders. Tears soak pale skin as the smaller girl cries into the others neck. Soothing circles traced on quaking back before words are spoken.
"I'm not ready for the role you want me to fill, not yet. I'm not as talented as you are. You have the ability to own the stage no matter what others say to you. I can't do that. I still feel their eyes on me, ready to criticize my flaws. I can't handle the pressure as well as you. I know you struggle with it on the inside, it'd be so much easier for you to just give in, but you continue to be who you want to be. If I don't fall in line with them, I will crumble. Be patient, give me time. One day I'll have mastered the art of being as brave as you, and, if you still haven't found another, I'd love to audition for the role as your opposite."
Thumbs caress cheeks before wiping away tears. Doe eyes glance up, shy smile and blush working its way up. Lips meet in a tender kiss. Back on track, the blonde goes to stand until hands grasp onto her arm. Looking over, hazel eyes find pleading brown. "Stay?"
A new question, never spoken, different from the usual dialog. Only this question is met with fluttering heartbeats and light giggles. Sheets are thrown back as two bodies go to lie down. Hands clasped, eyes locked, matching smiles on glowing faces, the two slowly drift off. The blonde glances once more at the brunette and thinks to herself that maybe this new script isn't so bad after all before she succumbs to sleep. Tanned hand reaches out and moves strands of blonde hair, placing a kiss on the forehead. The brunette smiles lovingly at the sleeping form before joining her in the realm of dreams. Her eyes shut, the curtains close, no applause is heard, but the diva is more satisfied than ever.