a/n: written for the wonderful twistdmentality on tumblr and loosely based on her /post/12471540974. also, a special thank you to lizzybennettdarcy for alerting me that the story got cut off at the end-it was 3am when i posted and i have a cold, which means i was being completely unobservant. hopefully it's all here now. i checked three times.
The coffee shop Wes had chosen to meet up was crowded, Blaine grabbing their beverages and heading for a table outside, wanting to enjoy the light spring air. It was his favorite time of year, the wind lightly brushing over him and ruffling the pages of his calculus notebook as he pretended to memorize equations he should have known since high school, the sun shining brightly on the umbrella overhead. He wanted nothing more than to say 'fuck it', close his textbook and text Wes with a lie of 'I'm dying' and wander around the park, but the other boy was heading in his direction and Blaine could only sigh heavily as he flipped a page, staring blankly at more problems he didn't feel like dealing with.
"Outside? Really?" Wes asked as he sat down, throwing his bag on the table and grabbing immediately for the coffee Blaine had so courteously bought for him.
"It's nice out," Blaine shrugged. "And if you're going to demand we do homework and study on this gorgeous Thursday afternoon, then I pick where we sit."
"We have a test tomorrow Blaine," Wes said with a chuckle. "And you need to pass it-unless you want to call home and tell your dad how you flunked out of college your second semester?"
"No thanks," Blaine shuddered, the mental image terrifying enough to keep his attention on the book in front of him for a few moments before he became bored again, his eyes wandering. He started people watching, Wes scoffing from across the table as he dragged Blaine's notebook over to his side to copy something down.
"The test is tomorrow," Wes sang, but Blaine just waved him off, watching a group of girls laugh as they headed out of the shop, all arm in arm as they headed down the street towards the inside of the park so close to them Blaine could barely stand it.
"I want to move," he whined, unable to keep himself still any longer. "Can we please do something more interesting and study later, when it's dark and-"
"You'll find something else to distract you, you always do," Wes smirked, his eyes moving to something behind Blaine with avid interest.
Blaine turned his head with a mild curiosity, searching the crowd for who Wes could possible find interesting enough to distract him from studying for more than 5 seconds at a time, his eyes falling on her almost immediately. He wasn't sure if it was the same girl holding Wesley's attention, but she certainly had Blaine's as she swept some of her dark hair from her eyes, her arms carrying her sweater as she tried to migrate through the crowd, keeping her head bowed.
He couldn't explain the feeling that washed over him, the curiosity to know her-her name, her age, what she was doing wandering by a small café in the middle of Central Park on an April afternoon. He wanted to walk up to her, smiling and charming as always as he asked her to join him, kicking Wes aside and ignoring any thought of ever doing homework again until he knew who she was, why she had this hold over him.
It took a minute before she looked up, her eyes seeming to meet his own even in the bustle of people still pushing between them, a small smile playing on her face as she noticed him, his own smile growing as he decided to do just what his mind was telling him, the image of the two of them spending hours talking, laughing, kissing, more taunting before reality crashed down on him once more.
"Blaine," Wes's voice called out, his head swirling to glance at his friend momentarily before turning back to find her, but she seemed to have disappeared into the crowd.
He searched, but there was no sign of the brunette, or her green dress, and it was with a contemptuous glare that Blaine finally directed his full attention to Wes once more. "Have I ever told you that I really hate you?" Blaine asked, Wes only shrugging in response.
"Once or twice over the years," he drawled in a monotone voice, Blaine trying in vain once more to focus on work, his eyes constantly looking around for the girl in hopes he'd find her.
By the time they left three hours later, she hadn't reappeared.
Blaine spent more and more time passing the café in the park, regardless of how out of the way it was for him, hoping for just the smallest chance of running into her. He knew it was impractical, that in the city of a million she could be as close as 5th Ave or as far as Long Island, she could be sitting in Times Square or on the J train to Brooklyn. She might not have even lived in the city, potentially only a tourist visiting the famous park before departing for her home of Jersey, Texas, Wyoming.
He had no way of knowing, only hoping that somehow she'd walk once more while he attempted to study, Wes often accompanying him with a running commentary on how pathetic he was being.
It took three weeks and four days before she wandered by, Blaine not giving it a second thought before shooting out of his chair and following her, throat dry as he tried to figure out how to grab her attention. He finally did the stupidest thing he was sure he'd ever do, reaching out and grabbing her arm, startling her completely as she dropped her bag on the ground.
"Shit! Sorry, I didn't-" he mumbled, helping her pick up her stuff as she looked at him warily, lips pursed as she took her bag back from him. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he said sheepishly, hoping his apology would make up for completely ruining the moment he seemed to have built up in his mind over the past few weeks.
"What did you expect when you grabbed a strangers arm?" she asked, her tone slightly haughty and catching Blaine off-guard, though he wasn't deterred.
"Blaine," he said, offering her a hand to shake. She still looked hesitant, but took the gesture anyways as she shook his hand and uttered the name he had been waiting for what felt like years to find out.
"Rachel," she replied, looking slightly nervous. "Now, is there a reason you nearly gave me a heart attack, or is this just how you spend your afternoons?"
"No, god, I'm sorry this isn't how I planned on-"
"You planned this?" she asked, her tone a little worried, and Blaine was really going to have to work on what he was saying.
"I saw you," he blurted out, mentally kicking himself in the face as her eyes widened even wider, officially looking more than a little worried about talking to him. "A few weeks ago, I was-I was here with my friend-" he said, pointing to where Wes was watching the exchange and fighting back laughter, Blaine only glaring slightly at him before turning back to the girl, to Rachel, hoping she wouldn't think he was some sort of stalker. "I saw you in the crowd, but before I could come introduce myself you had disappeared."
"Oh," she responded, looking a little less worried but still guarded, her bottom lip between her teeth as she looked down on the ground. "Well, now you have and I'm running late and-"
"Where are you going?" Blaine asked, unable to help himself, wincing internally at Rachel's raised eyebrow.
"I'm late for class now, and I can't afford to have any more tardies this semester," she explained. "It was interesting to meet you Blaine," she said, his stomach plummeting as she walked away without another word, but when she glanced back halfway down the path, hope returned.
He'd just have to keep trying.
The next time she walked by, she smiled at him but didn't stop to talk, headphones in as she mouthed the words to whatever it was she was listening to. He took it as progress, that she was willing to admit she knew who he was after their last encounter, and even though it took awhile, he soon figured out she took the same path every other afternoon around the same time, presumably on the way to class.
She'd occasionally actually say 'hello' to him, and when she went inside to order a drink one day, he quickly followed, ignoring Wes's utterance of 'stalker' under his breath. She'd been surprised, and he could tell she was still more than a little worried about letting him know too much about her, but while they waited for her drink she told him that the class she was headed to was an introduction to choreography class, a pre-requisite at the prestigious college Blaine had never even heard of before.
It took another three weeks after their first unfortunate run in before she sat down with him, asking about himself so she'd know him a bit better. Blaine was more interested in her, giving her the basics and becoming pleasantly surprised to find they had a love of music and theater in common, that they had both been raised in Ohio, that they were both freshman in college.
Another week passed before he managed to find the courage to ask for her number, passing his along to her in hopes she'd actually answer if he called. That night they spent four hours discussing the in-and-outs of a career in Broadway, Blaine half-upside down on his bed as he listened to her gush about her passion, a smile on his face just from hearing how happy she was.
He was so far gone, and Wesley made sure he knew it every chance he got.
He chose to live in the little world he had started building in his head from the first time he saw her, biding his time until she was comfortable enough around him before he asked her out on an official date, wondering if he was screwing himself over by not making a move sooner. He realized, nearly two months into their friendship as he went to visit her in her dorm for the first time that he forgot to ask the most important question of all.
"You have a boyfriend?"
It turned out 'boyfriend' wasn't even the correct term, 'fiancée' fitting the bill more accurately as she pulled out a ring she kept in a jewelry box next to her bed, next to a picture of a tall looking guy with his arms around Rachel.
"His name is Finn," she said quietly, looking rightfully ashamed for having kept it quiet for so long ."We've known each other forever, really, and we've been dating off-and-on since our sophomore year. He proposed our senior year."
"Does he live in the city?" Blaine asked, trying not to let the heartache he felt color his expression as he looked at her, watched her shake her head.
"He got accepted into Ohio State on a baseball scholarship last minute senior year," she replied, her fingers idly playing with the ring that she still refused to put on. "He was going to come to New York with me, work until he could figure out if college was what he wanted or exactly what he wanted to do-but he couldn't turn down the opportunity."
"And you guys stayed together this whole time?" Blaine asked, trying not to let himself seem hopeful, trying to ignore the tight clench around his heart when she nodded silently. "Well, I mean-that's great. Impressive, even. Not many high school couples last through college," he said, trying not to sound like he was judging her, like he was heartbroken, like he wanted to find this Finn character and kick his ass.
"Yes, well, granted that we do make it, I made him promise not to pressure me about an actual wedding until after we graduate. After all, NYADA has a tough curriculum, and I can't let anything distract me from that." He wanted to point out that if these were her terms it seemed ridiculous to even stay engaged, to even go through with the ludicrous idea, but she changed the subject and he found himself falling once more into an even more hopeless situation than he had thought previously.
He stayed in the city over the summer, taking a couple summer courses to ensure he graduated on time and avoiding the thought of Rachel back in Ohio with Finn, despite their near daily texting sessions. He tried moving on, finding a girl in his literature class who seemed reasonably cute enough to ask out on a date, to fall into some sort of summer fling with, but she was no match, not really. She didn't have the same talent, the same drive, the same enthusiasm Rachel had. She didn't hold him captive for hours with her voice, her hair didn't shine like Rachel's, her eyes weren't quite as bright.
But Rachel wasn't his to have, as he was so disgustingly reminded every time he logged onto his computer, a post from her on his wall with a picture of her and Finn at a barbeque as her profile photo. He'd gone through the pictures now too many times to count, seen all the pictures of people he'd never met before. A few he was reasonably familiar with-Finn, by now, and Kurt whom he had met once in passing when the boy dragged her away from Blaine one afternoon with a passing greeting, but the rest were strangers.
It was a whole life she led back home, a life he wasn't invited to because she had Finn, and now he had Chloe.
Still, as the fireworks went off over the Hudson river and Chloe snuggled closer to him, her lips pink and inviting as he closed the distance between them, he couldn't help but with it was a certain brunette he was with instead.
It was her who came to him when she arrived back in the city, her skin tanner as she ran to greet him in their designated place in Central Park, her arms being thrown around him as he laughed, picking her up and spinning her slightly despite his internal warning not to get too attached, that he should have backed away, should have respected both their decisions to pursue other relationships.
"I missed you, you know," she said as she linked arms with him, her head falling gently on his shoulder as they headed towards the pond, her favorite place to sit and think.
"I missed you too," he told her, knowing that there was no way he could even pretend to lie about that fact.
"You barely told me about your summer," she accused, her eyes turned in his direction as he tried to avoid glancing at her.
"You barely talked to me all summer, too busy with your fun life back home," he tried to tease back, keeping the slight hurt out of his voice as he avoided the subject. He hadn't yet told her about Chloe, the girl who was becoming more than just a summer fling, despite Blaine's general apathy towards her. He didn't know if it was to get her back for keeping Finn from him, or if he if he just didn't care enough, but he wasn't particularly looking forward to the conversation.
"It wasn't that fun," she replied quietly, a hint of sadness lacing through her words that he didn't like, but before he could press on she started him with another question of her own, a quick "So, who is this Chloe girl whose constantly writing on your wall?"
The fact that there was no hint of jealousy, of malice or anger or pain only seemed to pain him more.
It was October when she came to his room in tears, Chloe being pushed aside without a thought as she barged in without knocking, Chloe sighing in disgust before storming out of the room. Blaine didn't give her a second thought as he tried to get Rachel to tell him what was wrong, to open up and confide in him like she did about so many things now.
He didn't know why the words "He ended it," twisted a sword through his gut, her mascara running as she burrowed her face in his chest, his arms wrapped around her as he tried to comfort her, whispered how she was better than him, how she'd find better, how she'd move on.
When she handed him the ring under strict orders to destroy it, he simply hid it in his closet in case she changed her mind.
Three weeks later, when she went home for Thanksgiving, she did.
"Blaine," his brother called from downstairs, interrupting him from a serious staring contest he was having with his ceiling. "There's someone at the door for you."
He grumbled quietly to himself, assuming it was Wes, or maybe David or Thad trying to drag him to an old Dalton meet up despite his resistance to not see anyone over their Christmas break, and headed downstairs only to halt halfway there at the sight of Rachel standing in his hallway.
"Rachel?" he asked, and she gave a small, worried smile as he finished descending the stairwell, suddenly all too aware of the curls he let free as she pulled one with a small grin, her face still very guarded in a way he hadn't seen in nearly a year. "What's going on? What are you doing here?" he asked, looking around as he realized he'd never told her where in Ohio he had lived. "How are you here?"
"Well," she said with a small clearing of her throat. "Despite that there are quite a few Andersons in the state of Ohio, I happen to know people who can locate someone who somehow neglected to inform me of what town he'd be in while we were both home over break," she answered simply, his eyes falling to where her ring finger was, the item mysteriously missing from where it had been located since their last vacation. She noticed where his eyes had traveled and gave him a small shrug, her voice quiet as she explained. "I ended it, this time," she said. "For good."
"Or until Easter," Blaine argued, trying to play it off as a joke though his voice was too harsh for it to work. She shook her head adamantly, looking up at him.
"No, Blaine-for real this time. I can't-Finn doesn't belong in New York, and I don't belong anywhere else. We've been fooling ourselves this whole time to believe otherwise." He nodded, but didn't say anything as she stood there in front of him, looking slightly awkward for the first time since he could remember.
"Why did you come here?" he finally asked, his voice quiet as he built up the resistance he was so used to using around her by now.
"Well, as you know, you're one of my two best friends," she said as if it was an obvious solution. "And since Finn is using Kurt as his comfort right now, I was hoping I could use you as my distraction."
"Distraction?"
"I have an entire list of movies we'll be spending the next few days watching, and I already handed your brother a bag of ice cream I'm demanding you eat with me while I properly mourn and move on from this relationship," she stated, sounding much more in control and like the normal Rachel he was used to, and despite himself he found laughter falling from his mouth.
"Well, if you handed it to Cooper, it's probably all gone by now," he grinned, taking her hand and leading her into the kitchen, planning on being the best distraction he could be.
And when she fell asleep on his couch with him, her head resting on his chest as she curled up tight next to him, he definitely didn't wonder what it'd be like if they did this every night.
"Did you know it's been one year since you first attacked me?" Rachel asked as she idly ran her fingers through her hair, ignoring the script on her lap that she was supposed to be memorizing for a class.
"You remembered the date?" Blaine grinned from where he lay next to her, the spring breeze blowing his notebook shut.
"It's not every day someone stops you and knocks over all your stuff," she replied easily, rolling her eyes at him. "And then basically admits to stalking you."
"I wasn't stalking!" Blaine cried out, a couple on a blanket near their own glancing over at his expression, Rachel giggling quietly as he tried to quiet down. "I was not stalking," he said again. "I was merely…waiting."
"You waited an awfully long time," she said, her voice a near whisper, and Blaine felt his stomach lurch as he realized her words might have meant more than those first few weeks, that they might have applied to the past year of their friendship, her ups and downs with Finn, his own pseudo-relationship with Chloe.
"I did," he answered simply, keeping the I have off his tongue so as to not scare her away.
"Why?" she asked, tilting her head as he let out a heavy sigh, sitting up to face her properly.
"I was drawn to you," he shrugged, his eyes meeting hers. "I wanted to know you."
"So you had shitty coffee for three months just to meet me?" she smirked, letting out a small laugh of her own as he chuckled and nodded in response.
"Wes still hates me for that," Blaine admitted, Rachel shaking her head, her hair falling free from its loose braid as she did so. "Rach?" he asked, and it was her turn to snap to attention, his turn to look nervous, the feelings he had tried hiding for so long suddenly needing to be exposed. "You know that I'm in love with you, don't you?" he managed to push out, her own eyes widening momentarily before she nodded, her hand reaching for his own.
"I've known for awhile," she said quietly, her fingers dancing lightly across his palm. "I think I just needed time to accept it all."
"What all?" he questioned, his body a bundle of nerves that only she could calm.
"That I've been in love with you too," she finally whispered, squealing slightly in surprise as he pulled her forward, crashing his lips onto hers without another word.
