The article mentioned is the following (minus the spaces): thoughtcatalog . com / 2012/ who-is-your-unicorn
Life is Hard, know your Unicorn.
"Everything about this person screams "almost" — you "almost" dated; you "almost" fell in love; you "almost" changed your life to be near them; you "almost" drifted through life without engaging with them at all. Like the mythical unicorn, you can never concretely have this person, you can often only grasp at their essence."
As she reads the lines, she couldn't help but thinking about Quinn. Sure, there had been a couple of important guys in her life. Almost all of them could fit in this description, but the person who first jumped in her mind, was Quinn. Quinn with her beautiful eyes, and gorgeous smile, and melodic laugh. And then, with this swimming in her mind, she couldn't help but remember.
She remembered all the way to highschool, where she still had dreams of being Mrs. Hudson, and a nagging fear of what the future would hold, and this sense of thrill and desperation at the unknown. She remembered that day Quinn told her she got accepted into Yale. She remembered that moment in the choir room, her carefree attitude singing that song about the boys in her life, and then that intense gaze, almost pained, laid upon her and how her heart screamed at that look, and Quinn's words echoed through her mind almost everyday, up until summer, when she and Finn Hudson inevitably broke up. And she remember that summer, and how she cried on Quinn's shoulder that faithful day in July, and how the first person she wanted to call to say she got into NYADA was her.
She remembered being in her first apartment in New York, at the end of the first week of college, and being in her bed listening to Kurt gush about how cool everything was, and feeling like a piece of shit, because she had never quite received such harsh criticism as in this first week. And she remembered laying there and wishing for Kurt to shut up, and for someone to hold and tell her she was great and beautiful, and how as she was thinking this her phone had beeped and a simple witty message from none other than Quinn Fabray had lit up her screen and instantly made her feel better.
And then she remembered. She remembered how that first message gave way to others, and phone calls, and skype chats, and letters - because Quinn was a sophisticated Yale woman and loved to write - and eventually train rides to New Haven and New York. And she remembered the first year of college, with Quinn's visits, and them becoming more and more comfortable around each other, and how Quinn had become her person. How she had always wished to have a person, someone like Quinn.
She remembered random hook-ups and late nights, and drinking, and dancing, and laughter. And then she remembered second year, when Quinn came out to her, and introduced her her new girlfriend, and remembered her own Sapphic experiences, and reconnecting with Santana and Britanny who moved to New York, and them all becoming impossibly close, and Quinn practically living in New York more than in New Haven, and Quinn's girlfriend at the time - Samantha - getting more and more jealous, and what a painful break-up that had been just as she herself was starting to date this really incredible guy she could swear she deeply loved at the time.
And she remembered third year of college, and choosing Quinn over Tom - the longest term boyfriend she had in her life - everytime Quinn was around. And she remembered sleepovers, and lazy sundays filled with pancakes, and walks in parks, and crappy movies, and thinking how beautiful Quinn looked when she threw her head back in laughter, or how she glowed when the sun illuminated her hair, or how the exceptional times when she would move her head to her shoulder in a rare shy moment.
And she remembered the poorly masked mutual jealousy of each others hook-ups and boyfriends and girlfriends that was never spoken of. And she remembered Santana always dropping innuendos that they would laugh off, and Santana bringing them to clubs and movies and moan about how double-daty it felt like, and Kurt complaining about how he was always the third wheel, except for the fact that either one of them would always get a hook-up, and how that would always make things awkward the next time they would see each other, only to be forgotten an hour later.
And how Quinn would just look at her sometimes, like there was something about her she couldn't quite believe, and how that made her feel like she could take on the world. And how when Quinn finally finished college with a degree on English, she came to the city, and she would write plays and try to sell them and how she would always show her to Rachel, and how she would always genuinely love them, and how Quinn would complain that she was to nice to her, and how like that she would never be able to evolve.
And she remembered how the first person she took out to dinner to celebrate the first time she got a gig in an off-broadway show was Quinn, and how occasionally Quinn would drop by her workshop with some random present - sometimes a cup of coffee, sometimes her favourite cup noodles, sometimes a coat she had forgotten to bring and how she would always laugh off Rachel's appreciation and just say it was getting cold and she had to come by to that part of town anyway.
And then she remembered. She remembered just four months ago. The month Quinn sold her first play to a theater in London, and how this stupid sense of loss hit her when Quinn told her she would have to be two years abroad, and how they all had been incredibly excited, and remembered the dinners almost every other day in both celebration and farewell, and how she had been happy for her but she couldn't shake off this feeling that the thing that was always almost happen, now would not happen.
And she remembered not quite being able to put her finger on what it was, and couldn't help but feeling her and Quinn would lose something along the way and miss an opportunity. And then she remembered just three months ago, the day before Quinn had to catch her plane to move on to London, and the huge, big, party they all threw. And she remembered being incredibly drunk, and sad and happy at the same time, and Quinn pulling her near the whole night as people went to wish her luck on her job, and lots of hugs, long deep hugs, with tears streaming down her face buried in Quinn's shoulder, and happy carefree hugs in the middle of a dance.
And she remembered everyone bursting into tears at some point, and in the end, coming home, just her, Santana, Brittany, Kurt, his boyfriend Josh, Quinn's roommate and now good friend - Jess - and she remembered they all being in the living room, ready to pass out watching some random movie and drunkenly discussing it, and Santana offering to do pancakes.
And her and Quinn slipping to the little balcony, and taking in the New York skyline as the night began to get a little bit more clear and almost turn into a day, and the first people starting to pile on to the streets on their way to work, and young people coming home, shoulders tired and erratic walks, and she remembered looking at Quinn, and feeling her stomach drop at her beauty, and thinking how much she was gonna miss her.
And she remembered Quinn turning her head, and giving her a soft smile back, one she reserved for the people she loved the most, and one she didn't gave out often. And she remembered, under the sounds of New York coming alive again, and the dawning sun, her and Quinn getting closer, and Quinn grabbing her hand, and a shiver running up her spine, and their heads getting closer, and their noses touching, and the fog in her brain, and the nervous breath at what was about to happen, and looking at Quinn's lips and wondering how they felt like, and then realizing she was about to feel for herself, and feeling giddy at the thought.
And then she remembered the loud crash inside the house, and Santana yelling, and Kurt cursing, and the moment being broken, and the both of them sharing a look and dissolving into drunken giggles, and a moment of hesitation, and then the giggles evolving into full blown laughs. And how they noted how drunk and stupid they both were, and how they were going miss each other, and how thank god they hadn't done it because it would have fucked up their friendship.
And then passing out in her bed, just conscious enough to put an arm around Quinn's waist, and inhaling deeply and kissing the back of her head before they both went to sleep. And the next day, barely being able to get out of bed, and bodies sprawling in the living room, and Quinn taking her bathroom to take a shower, leaving the smell of her perfume lingering in the air of her bedroom, and they all driving her to the airport, and more tears and more goodbyes, and how she came home and her pillow still smelled like Quinn, and breaking into a fit of sobs.
And as she read on the article, she couldn't help it, she couldn't help but see Quinn in her mind. Laughing and running carefree, and reading in her living room, with a cup of tea perched on her knee, and getting annoyed at how loud Rachel liked to have the TV on when she was watching reality shows, and how that messed up with her concentration, although by now Rachel had figured out it was more the game of footsie she liked to have on the coffee table to pry Quinn of her book. And how Quinn would poke her back, until she would huff and put the book down, and take of her glasses, and drape a blanket over them, and snuggle closer to her, as she complained about how stupid the people on the TV were.
And as all of the categories in the article fit her situation with Quinn perfectly, she finally got what that feeling she had when Quinn announced she was moving to London was; the feeling of an almost that never came to be, and that was now lost forever. And she remembered how jealous she felt when Quinn told her she met some actress from her play and that they were casually going out. And now, finally, after 7 years of knowing her she finally realized; she was, and always had been, a little in love with Quinn Fabray. And Quinn was her fucking Unicorn.
This is a concept for a one-shot that sprang into my mind. I'm not quite sure if it works or not, and I'm considering turning this into a multi-chapter, with a different style in the next chapters.
That article was just stuck in my mind, and I thought of turning it into a Faberry one-shot. I hope you enjoy it.