Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of its characters, obviously.
AN: This is the first time I've ever written anything fictional whatsoever, but I thought I'd give it a try, so I'd love to have some constructive criticism! This isn't beta'd, so all mistakes are mine and I'm not a native English speaker, so bear with me.
XXX
Spring – March 18
At exactly 12.01 in the morning, Rachel is startled awake by a roaring sound of thunder resonating in he night. There's a brief moment of silence followed by a flash of lightening, bathing the outlines of her bedroom in a soft yellow glow. As if it were some sort of sign from above, a curtain of thick raindrops falls down from the sky onto the busy streets of New York City, causing a steady tapping sound against her window.
Instantly wide awake, she starts counting the seconds to check if the storm's close by, but before she even gets to 3, another massive boom breaks the silence again. Carefully steadying her breath, she tries to calm herself down by humming a soft tune. Ever since that night in August, when lightning had struck the old tree in her parent's front yard - which had subsequently missed her bedroom window by a few inches in its fall - she hated thunderstorms with a fiery passion. She still hates them now, even though there are no trees in her close proximity. The lightning makes it seem as if Monkey – her childhood stuffed animal, and named after her favorite children's book– is staring at her with his one black beady eye (the other one has long been lost) from his usual place at the edge of her purple comforter, and the new designer dress that's hanging from her closet is casting creepy shadows on her bedroom walls.
You'd think an 18-year old girl, taking the big apple by storm would be fearless by any means, but truth be told, she thinks being alone in the city is proving to be a lot scarier that she'd originally thought. She isn't totally alone of course, she shares the apartment with Kurt, her gay best friend, but it's different from really having someone you can entrust your biggest secrets to, and who won't judge you for them, no matter what. The only people who know about her slightly irrational fear of thunderstorms are her dads and well… one other person she doesn't particularly want to think of right now.
FlashHer room lights up again. She contemplates waking Kurt with some lame excuse, like making up she heard someone trying to get into their apartment or something, just so she wouldn't have to be alone right now. Eventually she decides against it, cause one, it sounds ridiculous (who would go out stealing in this terrible weather), and two, she's making herself feel even worse by thinking about some stranger breaking in. As if on cue, every shadow on the wall suddenly looks like the dark silhouette of a man, so she quickly closes her eyes, pulling the sheets all the way over her head.
This is ridiculous.
There's no one in your room, Rachel.
Boom
A deafening roar reverberates through her room again. Thunder and lightning are almost coming at the same time now, which tells her the storm is raging right above their building in full force. How is Kurt even not awake right now? He is such a heavy sleeper; he would probably sleep through an explosion if it happened in the next room. A coppery taste fills her mouth, she's biting her lip so hard, it started bleeding.
Flash Boom
Flash Boom
She's attempting to avert a serious panic attack, while simultaneously trying her best not to break into tears. Her eyes are still closed, hands gripping her sheets like a lifeline and humming the refrain of somewhere over the rainbow over and over and over. She wouldn't be this scared if he was here. He always had this way to make her feel safe, like no one else could. Finn. Her chest starts to hurt just thinking his name, but she's not going to cry. She's not.
She actually thought she had been doing a great job not thinking of him the last couple of months, but lately she has been having a lot of those what if-moments. She doesn't know why they all come to her now all of a sudden, but does there really need to be a reason? It's not like it even matters anymore, anyway. Finn is in her past. She has Brody now, and although their relationship is still in its beginning stages, she thinks she might finally be ready to move on, so why not with him, right?
Brody won't help you now, though. He'll probably think you're being crazy again.
No he won't.
Like he told you you were being crazy for expecting from him he wouldn't sleep with Cassandra. Your mortal enemy if I may add.
That might have been a little insensitive of him but -
You should call Finn.
No.
Why not? You know you want to. You've been fake-butt-calling him on purpose non-stop. Wouldn't his voice make this nightmare a thousand times better?
He doesn't want to talk to me. He said so himself when I went to see the musical.
You called him at the annual winter showcase…He didn't seem to mind then.
I don't want to bother him in the middle of the night.
Stop making excuses for yourself. If you want to call him, just call him.
She sends him a text message instead. 'There's a thunderstorm raging outside of my room. It's really scary." As she presses the send button, Rachel's already regretting she cracked so easily; whatever her common sense may tell her, her heart always seems to have a mind of its own. Her fear is just so suffocating right now, that she can't think straight anymore. She's frustrated with herself for showing so little self-control, but at the same time she really hopes he'll text her back. (She won't admit to herself how desperately she needs to hear from him right now.)
10 minutes later, he still hasn't texted her back. Holding her cell phone in a vice-grip, she watches her screen go into lock mode for the 6th time, knuckles turning white from squeezing the device so tightly. Letting out a ragged breath, that actually sounds more like a desperate sob, she wills the black screen to light up, but a few minutes later, still nothing's happened. Just as she's setting herself up for the imminent disappointment, her phone starts vibrating.
He's calling her.
She didn't expect him to call, so she's momentarily paralyzed, just staring at the little screen with Finn's name and picture on it (She never had the heart to delete it). Finally after the 5th ring, she wakes out of her stupor and gathers the courage to answer.
"Rachel?"
The sudden sound of his voice causes goose bumps to appear all over her body. She doesn't reply immediately, so he repeats her name, making sure there's really somebody there on the other side of the line. When she realizes he's waiting for some response, aside from her heavy breathing he can undoubtedly hear through the phone, she quickly stammers a reply.
"Yeah, I'm here." Her voice sounds muffled and weird through the darkness in the confined space of tangled sheets she's wrapped herself in.
She hears him sigh a breath of what sounds like relief. "I thought you hung up on me for a moment there." He chuckles a little; probably causing the little dimple she adores so much to appear on the right side of his cheek. "Are you okay?" he asks softly then, voice suddenly serious again.
"I-I'm fine" her voice cracks the moment she says it. Pretending she's fine proves to be a lot more difficult when it comes to Finn. He'd always been able to tell exactly what she was thinking or feeling without her having to tell him so; no matter how long they haven't seen or spoken to each other, some things just never change. So much pent up emotions have been gathering in her throat – partly because of the storm, partly from hearing his voice again – she can't contain another heartbreaking sob escaping her lips.
She tries not to sound so pathetic, but she can't help it; this breakdown has been a long time coming.
"Don't cry, baby" He's trying to comfort her but he's making it worse without even realizing it. The fact that he still subconsciously calls her baby, makes her want to curl up in a ball and lock herself in her room with a giant bucket of Ben & Jerry's and Funny girl on repeat. Granted she's already hiding under her sheets, she's not that far from said scenario, anyway.
As she grips her pillow a little tighter, she manages to choke out a strangled "I'm scared" before the flow of tears starts again.
"Hey - don't be. There's nothing to be scared of." He answers in a soothing voice, attempting to calm her down.
In her heart she knows that, though it's not so much the storm itself that scares her so much, it's the thought of being alone during it. She's afraid of not having that one person who knows her better than anyone, and will always be there for her; that person who will hold her hand when she's scared, no matter how ridiculous it is, kissing her till her head spins and she forgets how to breathe.
He's that person - right in this moment she's never been more sure of anything in her life - and he will always be that person for her. Every other guy along the way will just end up being a poor substitute.
There was a time she had no doubt in her mind they would end up together, but that invisible string that's always been there before - connecting them, pushing them together and pulling them apart like magnets - she feels it growing weaker every day. Their once strong tether has been replaced by a thin thread, she's desperately trying to hold on to.
Right now, it dawns on her that while she's having her own little identity crisis here in New York, he might not just be sitting around waiting for her to come to her senses. She thinks she might have already lost her soulmate without even noticing. Hearing his voice again after such a long time, while the rain is battering against her windowpane is just strengthening the realization of her utter loneliness.
"Talk to me," he says then, abruptly pulling her out of her thoughts, "tell me about New York."
"What?" The lightness of the topic confuses her for a moment.
"Tell me about New York, I want to hear about it."
So she does. She tells him all insignificant details about her life in the big city, conveniently leaving everything Brody out. She tells him about her dance classes, with her still horrible as ever teacher, and about how she's a shoe in for the leading role in a – quite unconventional - student film project. An audible gasp escapes his lips when she reveals she's going to be doing a topless scene, immediately after that going into a rant about how she doesn't need to do anything like that to be noticed, or to prove herself to anyone. "You're already a star, Rachel" he says truthfully, making her smile in the process.
"It's just an artistic statement, Finn, not a porno" she stifles a teary giggle in her pillow. "It's not anything even remotely sexual, if that's what you're worried about."
The sentence lingers in the air and there's a brief silence at the other end of the line. For a moment she thinks that maybe she has crossed an invisible line; that he's going to hang up on her without another word.
But then she hears him stammer, "I just- I don't want anyone personif…- objectifying you." He quickly corrects the verb before she does it for him. Her heart makes a little jump hearing his response and Rachel's instantly propelled back to her sophomore year of high school, when she dressed up as Britney Spears for a weekly Glee assignment, and Finn reacted in exactly the same way as he's reacting right now. The only difference now is that they're not together anymore, and Finn wouldn't feel this strongly about her doing a scene like that if there weren't still some feelings there, which makes her think that maybe – just maybe – he also hasn't quite moved on from them yet.
"Thanks for your concern, but I think I will be fine. I'll send you a copy when the movie's completed, if you want." she tells him half teasing, half serious. His reaction to her statement is a sharp intake of breath, which turns into a strange cough and a strangled "Uh…yeah…uh…sure…if you want to-" She's inwardly laughing at his obvious shiftlessness, imagining how his face probably looks all cute and flustered right now. "It's nothing you haven't seen before, anyway." She giggles softly, while she hears him stuttering some incoherent answer.
Wait. Is she flirting with him right now? She should probably feel bad about it, but she hates to admit that she's missed this kind of playful banter with him. Kurt would kill her if he knew she was talking to Finn like this right now. She'd been doing so well lately, getting a total makeover, pretending she was over him, but one word from him and suddenly everything she has worked so hard to forget, all comes crashing back in full force.
After Kurt talked her into this new 'New York'- look, she felt so grown up for a while, like a new Rachel, leaving everything and – more importantly - everyone in her past behind; but the past always has its way of catching up on you. Right now, she just feels so lost, it's like she left behind a part of herself somewhere in Ohio, and she has no idea how to get it back.
Anyway, before she has the chance to take things too far, she quickly decides to change the topic and half an hour later, they're in an animated discussion about which is the better ice cream flavor, strawberry or chocolate. Finn argues that strawberry's the "most awesome" flavor "cause berries are sweet and colorful and he loves every kind of berry," after which she briefly wonders if he's trying to flirt with her again or if she just imagined the obvious innuendo. She tells him she prefers chocolate, cause she just loves to contrast him and it reminds her of hot summer nights at his house, when chocolate ice cream was the only thing left to cool off. (She doesn't admit it to him, but she secretly loves strawberry too, because it's a light shade of pink – still her most favorite color - and she can't not like a flavor that has her last name in it, obviously.)
The conversation flows so easily, it seems as if those few months of silence between them never happened.
Telling him about her life makes everything seem more real, as if she's been living in a crazy rollercoaster of a dream before, just now waking up, and seeing things in a more clear perspective.
After a while he whispers, "I'm sorry I'm not there." She instantly knows he isn't just talking about tonight and almost inaudibly she utters "Me too."
There's a long silence after that. It's not awkward or uncomfortable; it's just there, stretching out between them, like a bubble slowly getting larger and larger before it inevitably bursts. Their relationship seems to be stuck in a vacuum of memories and lingering regrets; neither of them seems to be able (or willing) to let go. Eventually she's the one who breaks the silence. "Finn?"
"Yeah?" he chokes, voice cracking a little at the end.
"Thank you."
"Anytime, baby."
She hangs up after that.
And then it stops as sudden as it came. She hasn't even noticed any of her surroundings for the past hour and a half, but the loud tapping sound on her window is dwindling; the thunderstorm is moving past New York, leaving only the soft sound of drizzle in it's wake. Drizzle. Finn would've loved this moment, if he were here.
Why do I even remember this?
Because you remember everything about him.
No, I don't.
Yes you do. You can't fool anyone, especially not yourself.
You remember his smile, and the way the corners of his eyes crinkle when he does so. One special smile is only reserved for you, one side of his mouth turned upwards causing a little dimple in his cheek. You remember how much he loves the smell of pine trees, freshly cut grass and first spring rain. His favorite color is the deep brown of your eyes, which reminds him of dark chocolate and autumn leaves and his favorite holiday is Christmas, because he adores the lights and snow and cheerful atmosphere. You also remember the way his hand curves perfectly around yours, like two puzzle pieces that fit just right. You even remember how his mouth feels on yours, and how his tongue is able to leave a burning trace of fire upon your heated skin-
Oh god. A small whimper leaves her mouth, silently cursing the inner war with herself.
What about Brody?
Brody isn't Finn.
With that obvious realization she buries her head under her pillow and tries not to scream in sheer frustration. She just can't deny it anymore, not to herself, not to anyone; she's still utterly and irrevocably in love with Finn, she just doesn't have a clue what to do about it. After tossing and turning for another half hour or so, the soft trickling of rain against the window is finally lulling her back to a restless sleep.
5 hours later - which actually feels more like 5 minutes - Barbra's don't rain on my parade is blaring from her cell phone speakers, indicating it's time for her morning routine. Rachel sleepily tries to hit the snooze button but accidentally knocks the device off of her nightstand, simultaneously hitting her lamp, which falls to the ground with a loud bang, and disappears under her bed. The room's still cloaked in darkness, so she inwardly groans and blindly stretches her arm out to search for the lamp. Apparently the thing has rolled its way to a cozy spot under her bed that's 2 millimeters beyond her arm's reach (It doesn't help to be this tiny in these kind of situations), so she has to use her whole upper body to climb under her bed to retrieve the stupid piece of furniture.
"Need any help there?"
Her head shoots up at the sudden sound of a manly voice coming from her door, in the process hitting it against the underside of her bed. With a groan her hand flies to her head, where she can already feel a slight bump forming right above her right eye. Hair all over the place, she looks at her door to locate the source of the voice, immediately recognizing the outlines of Brody's body against the soft morning twilight that's coming from the living room. He's looking at her expectantly making her raise her eyebrows in confusion before speaking.
"Brody? What the hell are you doing in my room at this hour? How did you even get in here? I didn't hear you knocking and Kurt isn't awake yet, so he couldn't have opened the door." She's rambling a mile a minute, confusion still etched on her face.
Unfortunately, he seems to ignore her question and proceeds to enter her room till he's hovering right above her, and she can feel his warm breath on her face. She has no idea why he's here or what he's doing, but his sudden proximity makes her slightly uncomfortable. Being this close to him, she takes in his appearance and only now notices he's wearing a really weird outfit – at least weird for him. He's wearing baggy blue jeans, paired with an undershirt and a plaid shirt over it. In other words: a very small town look. And for some unknown reason, he looks…taller than usual, but she guesses that's just her imagination (and the poor lighting in the room) playing tricks on her. This is definitely not the New York Brody she knows; he would never wear anything like this. It's actually more of an outfit she would expect from...you know.
"Why are you wearing-"
"I'm here to help you prepare for you topless scene, remember?" he quickly cuts her of, looking at her like a child that's eager to open his presents on Christmas day.
She definitely does not remember anything of the sort. Rachel Berry never forgets important meetings, rehearsals or assignments. It's not for nothing she keeps a strictly organized diary in her purse at all times, provided with intricate color schemes and post-it's to meticulously plan everything out. These organizing skills will come in handy when she's famous and she'll have to plan her inevitable interviews, photo shoots and autograph-signing sessions in between her splendid future performances on the Broadway stage. If anything, she's a girl prepared, and unfortunately she was not prepared for this.
"And how exactly were you planning on helping me prepare for it?" she inquires, slowly pronouncing every word, her curiosity getting the best of her.
He laughs at her, showing a perfect row of white teeth, that look absurdly large all of a sudden – how did she never notice how big his teeth were before? - " We talked about this already Rachel" He's looking at her as if she's being silly for not remembering any of this. "We're just going to hang out in the apartment topless, to get you used to the idea of being naked in front of other people." He's still smiling down at her now shocked face, as if what he just told her wasn't totally inappropriate.
The absurdity of the situation doesn't really register in Rachel's brain yet, so she just pushes at his shoulder a little to allow her to get out of bed, and slowly starts walking to the kitchen, feeling his gaze burning her backside. Morning routine totally forgotten, she starts preparing breakfast on autopilot, wondering how she could've forgotten a crucial conversation like that. As she's pulling a loaf of bread out of the cupboard, she hears Brody following her into the kitchen. Just as she's about to turn around and tell him there's no way she's doing what he's suggesting, she suddenly hears his voice right next to her ear.
"Wow, Rach, don't you think you're taking the preparation for this role a little too seriously?"
She's thoroughly confused now. Didn't he just tell her she should walk around the house topless? She hasn't even said or done anything and he's already changing his tune, insinuating this ridiculous idea came from her or something. And why is he giving her a nickname all of a sudden? It sounds wrong out of his mouth and she would have given him an elaborate speech about basic etiquette, if she weren't momentarily distracted by the way Brody's voice suddenly sounds deeper than usual. It still sounds familiar to her, but she can't quite place the difference in tone. She doesn't dwell on it though, because she's still a little annoyed that he just unexpectedly barged in on her like this.
When she turns around to give him a piece of her mind, a loud gasp escapes her lips when she sees it's not Brody who's standing behind her, but no other than Finn Hudson. Is she hallucinating or something? Maybe she hit her head on the bed a little harder than she originally thought… She closes her eyes for a moment, shaking her head in confusion and opening them again a couple of seconds later, but he's still standing in front of her nose. How did he even get in her apartment and where did Brody go? And how did he get here so fast? He was just calling her from Ohio 5 hours ago…
To make the situation even weirder, he doesn't say anything, he's just staring at her, lips parted a little and eyes shifting over her body, making her uncomfortably shift her feet from one side to the other.
Before she can even properly register what's happening, she feels a cold chill running down her spine. Why is it so cold in here all of a sudden? Did Kurt forget to close a window last night? She reaches for the strings of her robe with the intention to pull them tighter around her body, just to notice there isn't anything to pull, hands only grasping for air. Confused she looks down at her body and gasps in shock when she realizes she's not wearing her robe, as a matter of fact, she isn't wearing anything. Oh my god. This isn't really happening, is it? She's standing in her kitchen, naked, at half past 6 in the morning with Finn Hudson staring at her like a lost puppy.
She wants to scream, to run and hide in her room (or anywhere else he can't see her for that matter) but her feet seem to be permanently glued to the ground, unable to move an inch. A rosy blush is spreading over her face and body like wildfire and she thinks she's gonna faint if he doesn't stop staring at her like that.
"Where's Brody?" Weirdly enough it's the only question she can think of in this highly bizarre situation.
He smiles a little, eyes locking with hers "does it matter?"
Right now, he's so close to her she can count the freckles on his face, while she's still locked to the ground, unable to move away. "No" she replies faintly, hardly recognizing her own voice.
The air grows thick around them and she feels as if every time she tries to swallow, a chunk gets stuck in her throat, making her breath shallow. All coherent thoughts leave her mind when she feels his hands moving to her waist, pulling her closer, just so her body is lightly grazing his. Her hands move to grip his upper arms to try and steady herself, when she does so, noticing that the plaid shirt and jeans he's wearing look vaguely familiar, but at the moment she can't for the life of her remember where she's seen it before, cause his hands have moved higher and are now dangerously close to her breasts.
"Is this real?" she hears herself stuttering, as if she isn't even in control of her own voice anymore. It's like she's looking down at herself from a distance, watching the strange scene unfold. He looks at her in amusement for a second and slowly moves his head down till his mouth is right next to her ear. His touch is featherlight on her skin and she thinks if he doesn't do or say anything soon, she's going to explode.
"Do you want it to be?" he whispers, one hand now rubbing small circles on her back, the other skimming over her right ribcage. His forehead is pressing against the side of her face, urging her to answer. Teary-eyed, she slowly turns her head around to look at him, giving him an almost imperceptible nod as she locks her hands behind his neck. He's smiling back at her with a beam on his face, his fingers reaching for a stray lock of hair that has fallen in front of her eyes and putting it behind her ear. The early morning light coming from the window is shining bright on his face, turning the color of his eyes a beautiful shade of light brown, she can make out the patterns of freckles like familiar star constellations and his pale skin seems like it's glowing. She can see tiny pieces of dust floating in the first rays of sunlight casting horizontal lines on them through the blinds. The soft warmth of sunlight on her body suddenly makes her feel very exposed again, but she soon forgets about it when he slowly leans down.
Instead of declaring his undying love for her he starts humming, breath hot against the side of her face. 'Don't tell me not to live, just sit and putter' he sings softly, lips moving an inch to slowly kiss the apple of her cheek, after which he proceeds to the next line 'life's candy and the sun's a ball of butter'. If she weren't so occupied with the way Finn's mouth and hands make her body feel like it's slowly burning from the inside, she maybe would've questioned why on earth he's in her apartment, singing a Barbra song to her. Right now she doesn't really care though, and every logical thought she still had left fly out of her head as he briefly swipes his tongue across her bottom lip, and softly kisses her.
She feels his hands swooping her up and easily putting her on the counter, making them the same height, his mouth never leaving hers while he does so. Locking her legs around his waist, she gladly reciprocates the kiss and tries to unbutton his shirt in the process. It's only fair she doesn't remain the only one that's naked here. This proves to be a little more difficult than she thought because he's lightly rubbing the inside of her thighs, making it hard to focus on anything else. She gasps at the sensations he's causing; she hasn't done anything like this in so long, all her senses are heightened and every touch makes her feel twice as much as she used to. Finally getting the shirt off of him, she throws it haphazardly on the floor and proceeds to plant kisses all over his chest. Finn locks their hands together and starts singing again, his voice becoming louder and louder till he's practically belting it out, 'Get ready for me love, 'cause I'm a comer, I simply gotta march, my heart's a drummer, don't bring around a cloud to rain on my parade!'
She appreciates that he's serenading her with her favorite go-to song but the particular piece isn't really in his range and right now she just needs him to shut up and kiss her senseless, and so she tells him so.
"Don't you like the song?" he asks disappointed, taking a step backwards, instantly making her miss the contact. He sounds like she just murdered his favorite pet or something.
"No, Finn, that's not it-" she starts, but when she looks up to pull him back against her flushed body she nearly has a heart attack and lets out a high-pitched scream. It's not Finn who's standing in front of her anymore, it's the one and only Barbra Streisand, and she's looking at Rachel as if she has two heads. She quickly tries to cover her body with a kitchen towel lying in her reach and stares in shock at the legend that's currently standing in her New York kitchen. Of all the ways Rachel imagined she would be meeting the great Barbra Streisand, this definitely wasn't one of them. In the meantime, she fails to notice Barbra looks about 50 years too young, her dress and hairstyle, with a braid on top of her head, precisely the same as she appears on the signed Funny Girl poster, hanging on the wall in her room.
"Why are you calling me Finn?" Barbra asks, looking a little insulted, 'I'm trying to sing a song here, I would appreciate it if you don't interrupt me again" After which she proceeds to finish the song in the impeccable way only the real Barbra can pull off.
After she finishes, Rachel is still gaping at her in the exact same place on the counter, one hand in her lap to cover as much skin as she can, the other holding the striped towel in front of her chest. Barbra doesn't seem fazed by her nakedness though and tries to bring her back to the land of the living by calling her name.
"Rachel? Rachel!" She can see Barbra's mouth moving but the sound that's coming out isn't matching her looks. The singer's voice sounds a little too manly and pitchy.
Rachel groans when suddenly the outlines of her kitchen along with the young Barbra Streisand become blurry and she has to close her eyes for a moment to avoid getting nauseous. When she opens them again, she's blinks a couple of times before she realizes she's lying in her room again, legs tangled in a cluster of sheets and Kurt's face hovering above her, swaying her blaring phone in front her face.
"Finally," he breaths, "you were sleeping so deep, you didn't even hear your alarm going of. I've been trying to wake you for about ten minutes. It seems like you were having quite the dream there." A teasing smirk appears on his face.
Rachel starts to blush, still a little groggy from being woken up so suddenly. Did she just have an erotic dream about Finn that suddenly turned into a nightmare about Barbra Streisand singing to her while she was naked? She's kind of relieved it was a dream, but at the same time she feels a little disappointed and unsatisfied, in more ways than one.
Kurt is sitting on the edge of her bed, watching her with interest "So let me guess, you were dreaming about Brody and his hot body?" his eyes looking for any sign of confirmation on her part.
"Oh my god, Kurt, that's none of your business!" she squeals embarrassed, face undoubtedly looking like a big overripe tomato. She definitely isn't going to tell him whom she was really dreaming about.
"Alright, alright, you don't have to get all squeaky about it, you were making some very weird noises though", he laughs knowingly, "it's only normal you get a little frustrated when you haven't done it since- " he stops talking when he sees her face fall. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," He immediately apologizes, "but you should do something, Rachel. If you don't, you'll never be able to move on."
"I know." She answers, taking his hand, giving him a watery smile.
Kurt's right. Just sitting here in her room thinking about him isn't going to get her anywhere. She needs to take some action; Kurt just doesn't know that what she's thinking about isn't going to involve Brody.
He quickly returns her smile and considers the topic closed. "So, did you sleep well last night?" he continues, "According to the news, apparently a major thunderstorm made it's way over New York. I slept right through it though."
"Yeah" She replies, a little smile tugging at her lips, as she thinks of the phone call, "Never better."
She breaks up with Brody the next day.