Title: Glowtide
Characters: Quinn/Rachel
Summary: Rachel's thoughts on Quinn.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Rating: K
She was there.
Right in front of her.
Quinn.
That immense, beautiful, unusual creature.
Everything about her was softness and grace...It reminded her of every beautiful thing she had ever seen. It sounded silly and fanciful - typically over dramatic, but it was true.
She remembered all of those things she had seen. Experiences she had been given. And every one of them, almost by nature seemed to require her presence. As if she belonged within them. She could be a colour. She could be that light hovering behind the flowers on the ground, making them glow. She had power. She had an element that had no name - unknown to her, but known to everyone else. It almost didn't seem right that such a creature had a name. Rachel thought it didn't even matter if she did. This girl wasn't quantifiable, what she had couldn't be measured. She was just...Quinn.
Now that she thought about it, even her name was special. Mercifully.
Every time she saw the sun.
Every time she felt the sun's rays on her back.
It was like a tide of warmth pouring into her.
Everyone knew what that felt like.
But that's what Quinn felt like.
Endless warmth. Endless comfort. She felt like nothing ever ended.
She felt like a sense memory. Like she had never, not known, of her existence.
Quinn reminded her of things that didn't make sense. Things that people do not resemble. Most of all, she reminded her of light itself. Light and levity.
A sunset on the beach when she was 10.
Rachel felt her in her memories, as if she had been stood on the sand dunes above her, watching over them all. Those eyes casting some kind of blanket of calm and comfort.
They still did.
A daisy she had picked in her garden, aged 8.
The yellow and white...the colours of the sun. Warmth and energy; Forces with no master, and endless heat.
That warmth emanated from her. It could fill a room.
After the rainstorm at her home, aged 14.
She had sat with her fathers on the porch, wrapped in blankets, watching the light shine through the sheets of water left on the waterlogged ground; reflecting every piece of gold that hit them. The shades of the grass and the trees mixing to create a palette of gold and green. She imagined Quinn, sat on the porch swing, smiling into the light, laughing.
Rachel would give everything, any day, anything to hear that laugh, just once more.
And she felt the same every day.
Tomorrow she would see her.
And the following day.
And the following.
And she would always go through the same thing.
The first moment in the day was the moment she saw her.
'She was there'
'Right in front of her…'
'Quinn.'