Author's Note: Struggling with writers block for DPH&S and this came out so... hope you enjoy.
They say that your hearing is the last thing to go. So if you could, I'd like to hear your voice one last time.
You have reached…
Summer before college was everything you could've wanted and more. The sun, fun, sleepovers and silly things you'd only ever do in your youth. All these things you remember with the taste of lemonade on your lips. But most of all you remember sparkling chocolate eyes and soft brown hair sliding through pale fingers.
You've always liked dichotomy, your life has always been defined by it. So being in the arms of your high school enemy turned friend always felt right. Your relationship with each other was always unorthodox, an oddity of impossible comprehension.
You shouldn't be like this. Not with her.
… the voicemail of Rachel Berry….
Yale was a whirlwind; so many different things, places and people, so many things to learn. It took your breath away and held it jealously. You hadn't even realized. It was a phone call, hidden amongst the humdrum of life that had you completely blindsided.
"Hello Quinn."
All of a sudden that breath you'd lost came back with a crushing force.
"Rachel."
Amidst the bloom of new things you had neglected the very person that got you there. The one who you looked up to, the very person that made you who you were today (and for the rest of your existence). After a much-needed conversation, apologies and promises you got your life back on track.
You'd lose a Yale t-shirt and gain a NYADA one. You'd become acutely aware of how long one hundred minutes really is. You'd find yourself on first name basis with the Thai restaurant on 52nd street. You'd begin to associate strawberries with sweet plump lips.
And you would love these associations.
Every single one.
…sorry but I am…
You knew this day would come but you didn't expect it to be so soon; in hindsight you really should've prepared for this possibility, this is Rachel Berry after all. Normal rules and conventions don't apply to her but that doesn't change anything. Not the buzz of excitement flowing through your body as you wait for the curtain to rise or the presence of the two people beside you. You're sure that Kurt and Santana are feeling the exact same thing.
This is the night you fall in love with her all over again.
From the moment she sings her first solo, from the wonderment flickering through her eyes as the audience rise to give her a standing ovation. But it's when her eyes lock with yours, when she decides to share this moment- the moment her dreams come true that you know you've been irrevocably changed.
…currently unavailable…
You give her a gardenia, just the one.
Signifying a secret love that isn't so secret anymore.
The ring tied to the stem is testament to that.
…so please leave a message…
You though it fitting, that your life would end in such a way. You had escaped death once and it's jealous hands have come back with a vengeance. There seems to be an issue with you, cars and weddings. With your phone weakly held up to your ear you looked forlornly at your red stained dress.
Rachel would be angry.
Her eyebrows would furrow and that crease on her brow would darken. Mesmerizing chestnut eyes would flicker and flare. Those lips! Oh those damned lips would pull so sexily before settling on a pout. Rachel was beautiful when she was angry, that's why you'd always lose your fights. Because all you'd want to do is kiss those lips and forget all reason.
Rachel would be angry and this time you wouldn't be able to kiss it away.
…after the beep.
"Quinn?"