I own nothing of Glee. My thanks to Jess for the prompt "I never should have left you back there" and her beta-ing
Part of you wonders why you're even surprised, while part of you loves him so much that you don't even care. There is a small part, however, that can't believe he'd do it, especially since you had previously expressed your anxieties to him.
It wasn't as if you knew anyone there except Mike and Santana and you'd hardly call the latter a friend, at least not enough of one to lean on when your boyfriend abandons you at some stupid party.
This is why you walked out and walked home. It was only seven blocks over so it wasn't much of a chore, but your eyes were full of tears and your nose was running the whole way.
Now your favourite pillow is wet - stained with mascara and tears, your eyes are red and puffy and somehow, your hair is a mess. And even though the feeling of arms enveloping you freaks you out slightly, you instantly feel better because you know it's Noah.
That knowledge makes you cry that little bit harder into his chest because he's now cradling you, making a gallant effort to soothe you. You're getting tears on his shirt and you can't bring yourself to care. It only serves him right.
"Hey, hey. Shhh," he says, no louder than a whisper, as he runs his fingers through your hair. You hiccup, which he knows is a sign that you're almost all cried out, and you feel him let out a shaky breath in relief.
He pulls you away from him and you whimper, silently cursing your own body for reacting to him the way it did. Traitor!
He trails his fingers along your jaw and you lean into his touch. He tilts your head up when his fingers reach your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye.
"I never should have left you back there," he confesses and you can read the sincerity in his eyes, "I never should have left you at all. It was stupid and I'm sorry, Baby. I'm sorry I made you cry."
You've never heard him talk like that. Your chest aches with something you think might be love but could well be heartburn, and a fresh round of tears threatens to fall. You're sure you'll forgive him – and probably in the next five minutes – but you need more from him. You need to hear him say out loud what you see in his eyes.
Somehow, he gets it. Maybe you're not the only psychic one?
"I'm never gonna leave you, Baby. I want you, and I don't wanna pull crazy, illegal pranks with the guys. I realised that I don't care about that shit as soon as we got to the school. I don't care about that shit because all I care about is you." He moves you to sit on his lap and he rests a hand on your stomach, "you and Delilah. I came back to the party, you know, to take you home because I don't need that anymore."
You lean up to kiss him and you know he's not lying. You don't think you've ever seen him so vulnerable and honest.
"Do you love me?" you ask, timid and shy.
He chuckles a little, "You know what, Rach? I do love you. And you already know that."
"I know. I just like hearing you say it," you reply, biting your lip on a smile, fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. You look him in the eyes when you tell him you love him too.