A/N: Before you read this I should warn you I am not a writer. I don't even do it as a hobby. But I do have a lot of ideas in my head that I wanted to put out there and see what people thought about them. You've probably figured by now this is my first attempt at writing fanfic, so go easy on me. Also, English is not my first language, so excuse any grammar mistakes. Before I start to ramble, I just want to say I hope you enjoy living the Monchele fantasy as much as I do. This is what fan fiction is for. (:

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Lea Michele or Cory Monteith. Glee and all of its characters are owned by the crazy brilliant troll in the yellow hat, Ryan Murphy.

"So, where is he?" Cory asked leaning closer to her, a lopsided smirk growing across his face.

"Not here." She answered matter-of-factly without even taking her eyes from the drink in her hands.

"Yes, I can see that." He insisted, having a low laugh, the smirk now fully spread through his features. "The thing is, though, I thought he'd be by your side 24/7 during the whole tour this time. Since, you know, he apparently has nothing productive to do with his life."

Cory knew he was pushing the subject, but it kind of bothered him to see her so down after all the energy and all the joy she put into every song and every show they performed. No, scratch that. It really bothered him to see her like that. While they were on stage she was all about the smiles and the jumping around and her high notes, but as soon as they got off it, Lea just became this lackluster version of herself, detached from everybody and everything else.

So he thought of Theo. The guy who could, who should, be here by her side, bringing up her spirits, cheering her up, sharing this experience with her, loving her. Who wouldn't want to be in his shoes? He definitely would, Cory assured himself. So then, what in the hell could that dude possibly be doing – or not doing, for that matter – to make her feel like this?

Here they were, sitting in an exclusive, hidden spot in the bar of one of the hotels they were staying during the tour, surrounded by their friends and cast mates, all of them talking, drinking, laughing and just plain having the time of their lives, and yet she looked like she wasn't even there. Well, she was, Cory pondered as he observed her playing absentmindedly with the straw in her glass, but only in body, not in soul.

"Don't go there, Cory." Lea said warningly, putting down her drink and finally looking at him, the sadness evident in her eyes.

His face went from playful to serious instantly as he noticed it even in the low lighting of the place, his own concern for her building up inside of him and making his heart drop. This was worse than he thought. Not the time to be flirting, damn it. She needed him to be her friend. So that's what he was going to be right now. Whatever she needed.

"I'm sorry, Lea. I shouldn't have said that." he said, trying to maintain eye contact. "Well, I shouldn't have said it like that. But I'm still worried about you."

"Don't be. I'm okay." She gave him a failed attempt at a smile and, escaping from his gaze, immediately went back to stirring her drink with the straw.

"Ok, who do you think you're kidding, huh? Me? Or yourself?" He couldn't help but blurt out at her response. She barely shrugged her shoulders at that. "Look, Lea, I know we have this weird kind of not-quite-but-almost-friends-with-benefits relationship and some obviously unresolved feelings, but I want you to know that above and beyond all of that crap I'm your friend. And you can tell me whatever it is your feeling. You probably need it, since your family or your old friends can't be here for you right now, as I know you'd like, and God knows why you're pushing Dianna and the other girls away. I promise I won't make any snarky comments."

Lea sighed and went to look up at him again, her eyes narrowed, questioning for the truth behind his promise, one of her brows slightly raised. "What? I'm serious. No smart stuff." Cory laughed as he got the question from her expression, giving her his most honest and heartfelt smile, assuring her she could trust him.

"Fine," she smiled timidly, but truthfully this time. "but maybe we should get out of here first, I can't really talk about this with all this mayhem around us", she said, referring to the earsplitting sounds of "Like a G6" playing in the background mixed with all the talk and laughter.

With that, Lea got up, leaving the rest of their cast mates to the remaining of their night of partying, knowing Cory would be right behind her as they left the bar through the back door of the bar, taking the elevator service up to her room.

The elevator ride was silent, both of them finding the patterns of the marble floor much more interesting than each other's eyes. As they reached the last floor and made their way through the hallway towards the room, he watched her fiddling with the card key in her hands. "Hey" he said, breaking the silence and catching her attention, "we can always go somewhere else if me being in your room will make you uncomfortable."

"No, it's ok, you've been in my room many other times" she replies, amazed at how easily he can see through her. Are all her emotions that clearly plastered on her face? Maybe she's one of those people who are like an open book. Or maybe he's the only one who is able to read it. She smiles at her thoughts, "Besides, there really isn't another place we can go and talk privately." He nods. "Here we are" Lea said as she swiped the key in the lock, letting herself in, Cory soon following.

As soon as they entered the room, Lea dropping the key in the bowl by the door and taking a seat in the couch in the living area, Cory stopped as he realized that while, yes, he had been in other of her hotel rooms before, they had never been alone in any of those occasions. He looked around and noticed all of her clothes spread through the place, on the bed, hanging from her suitcase, on the floor, by the vanity where all her make-up lied in an absolutely disordered mess. It sure seemed like a hurricane had gone through. Had she always been this disorganized? Why was she being to careless?

"Hey, Mr. Monteith? What are you doing there?" Lea asked, waking him from his thoughts. "I didn't ask you to come here so you would just stand there looking tall. And Canadian. And handsome", she offered with a smile. "Come here, sit next to me", she patted the spot next to her.

After that one, Cory couldn't help himself but go with his own line. "I thought you'd never ask, Ms. Michele". They shared a laugh and as he sit on the other end of the couch, facing her, he went on. "Actually, I always hoped that if we were ever in this situation – alone, in your room – you'd be asking me for more. But I can deal with that." He smirked.

Lea was silent for a moment, smiling sadly at him before replying "Cory, you promised you wouldn't." He then reached for her hand, "Ok, ok, I'm sorry. Last one, I promise. It's just really hard to stop myself sometimes." He stroked her knuckles with his thumb. "Really, I am sorry. I want you to feel like you can count on me. Acting like a jackass certainly won't be any help."

"I know I can trust you, Cory", she put her other hand over his to assure him of what she was saying. "And I know you are my friend, whatever the type of friendship we maintain might be. And I certainly don't think you're a jackass." She let go of his hand, shifting from her indian-style position so her legs were hanging from the couch, and put her own hands to her forehead, holding her head. "It's just that I'm not sure if I should be talking about this with you."

The stress she put on those to specific words made his stomach flip and his heart start racing as he stared Lea, her face buried in her hands. He knew what this was about. He was right from the start. But why was she having difficulty opening up to him? They could always talk about anything. Could it possibly involve some feelings she might have towards him? Well, he thought he better not jump to conclusions, but his mind was going a mile a minute and he decided to spit out all he could articulate, the inevitable defensive tone showing in his words. "So it is about him, isn't it?"

A/N: Yes? No? Tell me what you think (: