::The Love of My Life… Is a Goddess of Blanket Thievery::

K.L.

A/N: Not the most well written but just something for the cold nights.


Quinn Lucy Fabray.

With features of pale skin, golden locks and piercing eyes of hazel she is often likened to Goddesses of Old, bound in an Earthly form.

To the naked eye she is a splitting image of perfection; an ideal to strive toward.

And yet one would beg to differ.

It wasn't that Rachel thought her girlfriend of six years was atrocious, a beast hidden beneath a faux skin.

No, merely she saw what the world neglected; the flaws of a human.

For instance what the world failed to see was the Quinn who left toothpaste in the sink, left her socks in every nook and cranny possible, or worst of all was a thief.

A blanket thief.

You may laugh now but to be a thief of blankets is a serious offense, punishable by death.

Well perhaps not death but a serious offense no less.

When day would come to an end, the couple would exchange sweet goodnight kisses before sinking under the comforting embrace of the feather duvet allowing the world of dreams to over take them.

And yet without fail, no more than three hours past, Rachel would awaken cold and metaphorically alone. All the while Quinn snored on, Egyptian cotton draped under and over her pale skin. The remnants that failed to envelop her lay abandoned on the floor.

No matter how hard the brunette fought with the sleeping blonde, neither the blankets nor the woman would budge.

To make matters worse Quinn on occasion managed to sneak not one, not two, but all six of the couples pillows and scatter them about the room. All whilst in the deepest state of slumber.

To be fair, Rachel truly had done all to remedy the blonde's slumbering obsession with the bedding.

The young woman had awoken the blonde, demanding she return her half of the covers.

Which had worked.

Until Quinn returned to the realm of sleep.

Next came the purchase of extra blankets.

It seemed however that regardless of the number of blankets, if they were upon the bed they became captives to the blonde thief.

Rachel had remained in shock that she herself had not been kidnapped when every single other item on their bed had been until that fateful night she found herself on Quinn's side of the bed. On the floor. None of it her own doing.

Heated arguments had been exchanged, once resulting in Quinn's exile to the Couch of Doom.

That however did not last as Rachel mysteriously woke up on the couch. With the blonde. Their blanket no where in sight.

After that all attempts to curbing Quinn's thieving habits ceased.

And so while Rachel doesn't believe the love of her life is the embodiment of the Goddesses of Old, she does know Quinn is a Goddess.

It's just a Goddess of Blanket Thievery, imperfect in every way.

And Rachel loved every bit of it.