She knew she shouldn't cling so desperately. She knew it was rather pathetic of her to chase after him. After all, she was right. He was overacting and it wasn't like he was such a better person than her, because he had cheated on Quinn. And besides, he had slept with Santana when she had only made out with Puck. And of course, they weren't dating when he did, but still, he had lied to her when they were together. And if she would have been the kind of person to swear and use such a language, the whole situation was a fuckery.
All and all, she knew she shouldn't just chase after him, do all this pathetic moping over him, but she couldn't help it.
He was the only reason she was the way she was. He was the only one that could fix the only thing in her life that wasn't the way she wanted it to be.
Everytime she was with him, she felt that sort of protection from herself. Like she could just hold onto his arm and forget about her undesired feelings.
All she wanted was to forget, and Finn made that possible to her.
Whenever she felt like those feelings were rising, she would just hold his hand, or kiss his lips, or press her open palms against his chest; and everything would be ok. Because he was a man. He had manly hands, clumsy lips and hard chest. His hair was black and not blonde, he was terribly tall and he smelled like cheap cologne and not dazzlingly sweet.
Rachel loved a lot of things about her. Her body, her stature, her ability to sing (wich was pretty obvious to everyone), her dancing skills, her family, her friends. There were plenty of things. She had flaws, too. She was human, after all. But there was one thing she wasn't proud of about herself. The only thing she wanted to fix but seemed impossible to do so.
Finn was like a temporary cure for her somewhat disease. It was like an incurable infection, and he was morphine. He was a poorly substitute for what she desired but didn't want; a placebo.
It took her a whole year to figure out how to cover up her feelings; and she had started to look for that cover since she realized the meaning of all of her feelings and reactions.
She thought she wanted him, at first. But then realized she was entirely wrong. She couldn't understand how it was that her own mind had tricked her, but she didn't think it was all that weird.
It was easy enough to love him, and to pretend to be in love with him. He wasn't such a bad guy, he was goofy and attentive. And, for her own sake, she was able to ignore all the times he didn't stood up for her or defended her. Because the times he helped her without been even aware of it were enough.
So, she was suddenly in this position. Crawling back to him and having rejection as a response. God, she was awful, but her safety was more important than her pride.
She had tried, at first, to find cover in someone else. But like the first time, she didn't find it. She had tried to keep her pride after finding out about Santana by replacing Finn with Puck, just like last year. But just like last year, it didn't work. She didn't know why it was only Finn –and Jesse, temporarily– that helped her almost forget about her true feelings. But she went along with it, if it meant she could be in peace with herself.
Finn was having none of her apologies and was acting incredibly awful and she felt he was a terrible hypocrite. But she was desperate. Not for his forgiveness, but for her own emotional safety.
It was impossible for her to keep lying to herself without his support. Without it –without him– she was just a stereotype, a statistic, a cliché, an urban myth. And she would have none of that. She couldn't. Without Finn by her side, she couldn't ignore when her heart did jumped out of her chest, when her cheeks felt on fire, when there was dampness between her legs, when she felt that longing. She couldn't hide from her brain who she felt all of that for. And she couldn't keep going like this. She would earn his forgiveness, no matter what.
It was enough to be without him for a day for Rachel to look at her and feel all that she feared. All of the things she wished she could feel for Finn, or for Puck, or for any other guy. It seemed impossible. She made sure to keep her gaze down when they were in the same room, to sit as far as she could, to dance in the opposite side of the room. But she always had that safety, the feel of Finn to lessen the desire to crash against her body. And now that she didn't have it, it was all impossible to ignore. Even if she stayed away or if she tried and held her breath whenever she was near. It hunted her. Her very presence in a room felt suffocating, toxic even. She was drawn to her, her skin prickled and her heart jumped, her body heat raised and her hand ached to touch her. And without Finn to replace her body, it was only matter of time before she made a mistake.
She entered the bathroom to wash the tears out of her face after singing in the auditorium, after being rejected by Finn once more, when she saw her.
She splashed some water to her face, and when she raised her head, she was there. Her reflection in the mirror showed a boring expression towards her as she glanced at her, without stopping her hands that were tying her ponytail.
Rachel froze in her spot, the sound of the water running and her heart hammering in her ears flooding her brain as she looked at the object of her tribulations. She tried very hard to ignore her, but as always, her mere presence was having all kind of effects on her mind and on her body.
She felt her face growing hot and the drops of water drying on her cheeks as she stood up straight and faced her.
-H-hello.
An eyebrow rose and lips pursed, showing that she was not expecting to be talked to.
-What happened to you? –The phrase may have been one of concern, but the tone showed disinterest, mockery; and Rachel felt dread.
She ducked her head and tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear before taking a deep breath.
-I failed at achieving forgiveness from Finn.
An eyebrow rose again.
-Wow. I really thought you couldn't be more pathetic, Berry. –She turned around and started applying mascara, her back to Rachel.
Rachel had pride, but she was never able to show it to her. It seemed impossible to stand up for herself when all of her efforts focused on keeping her feelings at bay. Containing herself. This time, however, her emotional distress made her defend her pride, no matter who she was speaking to.
-Look who's speaking. –She snapped. –You're only dating your twin to gain your popularity back.
Rachel's eyes were narrowed and her shoulders straight as she watched her glare at her as she approached.
-At least I'm not crawling like some pathetic dying animal behind an asshole. –She growled, staring down at Rachel and making her take a few steps back as she stepped forward.
It was no surprise, Rachel knew she didn't care about her feelings and didn't bat an eyelash as she spoke the truth. And, besides, it was the truth. But her frightened expression wasn't for the cruel words, but for the closeness of her body and how it seemed that, no matter how much she tried to walk away, she was only being cornered against the wall.
-At least I'm not lying about who I am. – She snarled. She was lying, but she watched confused at how the other girl's expression faltered for a second.
-You don't know what you're talking about, Man hands. –Her index finger poked Rachel on the chest as her back hit the wall.
Rachel felt dread as her entire body pressed against the wall. She couldn't close her eyes but her breath caught in her lungs at the closeness of the other body. She was quiet for a second, trying to ignore all the reactions in her body. The other girl's expression changed into one of victory, confusing Rachel's silence and lack of response as defeat. So she spoke again. She placed her mouth inches away from the skin of Rachel's cheek and ear as she spoke.
-Don't ever speak back to me, Rupaul, because I'm always right.
Her scent and warmth hit Rachel all at once as she approached, a millimeter separated their breasts from touching and her breath washed Rachel's face as she spoke.
It happened all in one second. Neither could stop the force of what came after that sentence.
Rachel forcefully grabbed her shoulders as she crashed their mouths together with a growl, her body arching forward as the blonde arched back, trying to pull away. Two pale hands grabbed her shoulders as well, trying to push herself back as her face turned to the right, rejecting the kiss. But all that it did was expose her neck for Rachel to bite and then suck, and it was what it took for the blonde to jerk her hips forward and whimper. Pale hands traveled down her sides to her ass as her body pressed against Rachel's, and her hands slammed the wall, squeezing Rachel's butt. The brunette whimpered as their mouths joined again, this time with tongue and teeth, and her hands tangled in blonde hair, messing the just tied up ponytail. There was a collective moan as the blonde pushed her hips forward again and her hands hoisted Rachel up, legs circling waist with the wall as a support as pale hands traveled up and down tanned thighs. Rachel felt a jolt that made her hips jerk up unwillingly, and that's when the blonde grabbed her waist and pulled back, effectively standing her on her feet as she looked at the brunette in shock.
-No! –It was all she screamed as the pushed Rachel in the chest against the wall. –I'll kill you! –A few tears spilled from her eyes and down her cheeks as she spoke. –If you tell anyone, I'll kill you!
Rachel stared, dumbfounded and out of breath, as Quinn Fabray ran away from the bathroom, eyes as red and swollen as her lips, red mark in her neck and hair a mess.
She stayed in the position Quinn had let her, trying to catch her breath. Her heart pumped in her chest and she could feel her lips swollen and a throbbing heat between her legs. She counted to a hundred in her head and went to stand in front of the mirror, watching the reflection of the closed bathroom door. The water was still running, and Rachel thought that, if she closed her eyes and believed hard enough while she splashed water to her face, it could all be just a twisted fantasy. But of course, once she opened her eyes after the fifth splash, she could still feel pale hands on her shoulders and pink lips on hers.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a few minutes, transfixed.
What the fuck?
Her mind played a hundred different scenarios in wich she talked to Quinn, in wich she declared her love, or she sang a song to her in Glee, where she just walked out to find her and kissed her in front of anybody, in wich she climbed to her window and made love to her in the middle of the night.
All in all, in a matter of seconds, her mind played a hundred scenarios. All stereotyped and every single one a total cliché.
But she knew the last thing she wanted to be was a stereotype, a cliché, an urban myth or a statistic.
Taking a deep breath, Rachel shook her head and left the bathroom.
After all, she still needed to find a way for Finn to help her almost forget again.