So I saw this: Imagine your OTP arguing. As Person A gets more emotional he/she admits that they love Person B so much, but knows that Person B will never love them like that. Then quietly Person B whispers that it's not true. Could you make this faberry you think?

faberry, first kiss, hot chocolate and a snow storm outside :D

Faberry and jealous Quinn admiting her feelings to Rachel. Please?

It was supposed to be a surprise. As soon as Rachel sent me that email about her and Finn breaking up, I started making plans. I had planned everything through every possible outcome. I knew what do it if Kurt was home and Rachel wasn't, I knew what to do if they were both home, I even knew where to wait if no one came to the door. But I couldn't have prepared myself for some muscle-y, manscaping crooner answering the door. At least he's gay.

"Hey," he said with a lopsided grin, his eyes, too close together, glanced at the red rose I was clutching in my hand.

I put on my smiling-is-expected-so-smile face. He cocked his brow. My fake smile faltered only a little. That's my move. And he is definitely becoming less and less gay as the seconds pass on. The way he's leaning on the door frame, blocking me from the apartment, the way his voice sounds, the way he stole a glance at my boobs... it was all very straight-guy.

That was not okay.

"Who is it, Brody?" Rachel called from somewhere inside. Just at the sound of her voice, my heartbeat quickened and I remembered why I came here, why I had a rose, why I was wearing my prettiest dress with my nicest coat and my best perfume. I came here to tell her- Who the hell was this Brody character, anyway, and why was he wearing so much Curve for Men?

"I don't know," Brody called over his shoulder, "but she's very pretty," he added, more quietly so only I could hear.

Ugh.

That was it, this guy didn't deserve pleasantries. I shoved my way past him and into the studio apartment. First thing I noticed was the smell. It smelled great. Potpourri and good chinese take-out and Rachel. Second thing I noticed was the blanket on the floor in the middle of the living room with a barely recognizable Rachel sprawled across it like fucking Cleopatra. I don't like to curse but I wanted to know what the fuck was going on and STAT, before I start jumping to conclusions and hurting someone. In particular.

"Oh my g-," Rachel said as she saw me. She was so shocked she couldn't move from her ridiculous position.

The way she was laying, with her body stretched out supporting herself on one elbow on a pillow and her hair long and wavy down her shoulder, was infuriating. She was wearing a black skirt so short she might as well have not put it on. Her black, skin tight shirt was just, I mean c'mon! All for that guy.

I was seething. It didn't matter that she could never have known that I was coming or why I was coming, she should still have realized that seeing her with some a-hole in tight jeans was going make me so utterly... jealous... so she should never do it at all! Okay so I wasn't making a lot of sense but, seriously, who the fuck was this guy and why had she never mentioned him in her emails?!

"Rachel," it came out in an accusing tone and I was proud. "What's going on?"

"Uhh...," she gulped. She knew she was in trouble. Was it the look on my face? Probably.

"Are you on a date?" I asked. Thorns from the rose were digging into my fingers as I perched my hands on my hips.

She sprung up from her absurd position, finally, and motioned weakly at Brody. "This-This is.. uhh...," she snapped her fingers a couple of times and stuttered out, "Brody. This is Brody. He's a- uhh- friend. From school. He was just..." She was really struggling. In hindsight I should have been surprised by this, but at the moment it was just marvelous.

Brody chuckled. It was annoying. He walked up to Rachel, put a hand on her lower back and kissed her on the cheek. "We can just continue some other time," he said, smiling oh, so kindly. "I'll let you and.. Quinn... catch up." I willed him to get out before I really lost it.

When he was out the door, I finally loosened my grip on the flower and let my bag fall from my shoulder. "So," I said, moving to center of the room, "you have a Brody."

"Uhh, I mean, yeah. He's a good friend," Rachel's eyes followed my careful movements to lower myself onto the blanket on the floor in what I assumed was Brody's spot. The remnants of his cheap cologne was confirmation enough. "I'm so happy to see you! What a surprise!" She took her spot on the blanket again, this time tucking her legs beneath her, thank God.

"Yeah, I thought I'd surprise you. Since you broke up with Finn a few weeks ago and I missed you at Thanksgiving, I thought you could use the company. Looks like you're okay in that department," I spat out.

She averted her gaze and suddenly I felt guilty. Who the hell was I to get jealous? Maybe if I had spoken up sooner, it would've been me she was sprawled out for. But no, I'm a coward and because of that I had no right to be upset or jealous, and even less right to give her the rose I was still holding.

I handed it to her anyway. "I'm sorry. I should have called first to make sure you weren't busy. I guess I just assumed-,"

"No! No I'm so glad you're here! Thank you, this is really sweet," she smiled at me, shyly. That's probably how she smiles at Brody when he touches her hand or plays with her hair.

That was when the realization hit me. If she was treating me like she was treating Brody, then I had just as much chance as he had, if not more, because I mean, seriously, he's slimy. I had already planned on a big speech and a confession about how much she means to me and that I want to be more than friends, yadda yadda, but that realization only fueled the fire that brought me there.

But I was still so angry. I still felt so betrayed even if I had no right to be and that part of what I was feeling was stronger than wanting her to know the real reason behind my visit.

"So, where's Kurt?" I asked, hoping that the change of subject would calm me down before I said something I would regret.

"Oh, he's working late tonight."

"That's nice of him to give you time alone with your hot new boy toy," okay, so the distraction didn't work.

"He's not a boy toy," she said looking down at the rose she was twirling in her fingers.

"Oh? Well this was definitely a date that I interrupted and you definitely haven't known him for very long because you've only been here a couple of months and you never mentioned him to me in your emails so he obviously isn't someone important-" I was rambling and it was embarrassing, so I put on the brakes pretty hard.

I took a deep breath and Rachel just stared at me.

"What is your problem, Quinn?"

She was probably going to say more, but I jumped in before she could. "My problem is that you have guy kissing your cheek and touching your butt and I never even heard of him. So either you just found him off the street today and are now a common slut," I motioned at her skirt at that, probably shouldn't have, "or you were intentionally keeping him from me!"

"And since when do I have to tell you anything?" her voice went up an octave as she stood up, leaving the rose on the blanket in front of me.

"I...," well, what the hell was I supposed to say to that? I watched her gather up the remains of the take-out and walk them over to the trash can near the kitchen area. "I-I never would have come here if I had known about him!" It came out more weakly than I had intended, mostly because it was so terribly true.

"Why not?" she said. Her tone was less angry but the way she crossed her arms over her chest and stared at me told me that I wasn't in the clear yet.

Why not? What could I have said to that? I knew exactly why not, but I couldn't just come out and tell her that I would never have gotten up the courage to surprise her with a rose and an earth-shattering confession if I had known that I had competition. Straight-male-NYADA-student-with-abs competition. I couldn't tell her that if I had known about Brody, I probably would have just stayed in New Haven, waiting for him fuck up so I could have another chance. Suddenly the strength I drew from my jealousy was quickly waning. Rachel may not be straight (she mentioned once how she was expecting to explore that side of her at college. Yeah, that was a fun conversation.), but she was still more attracted to guys. And here I am, Quinn Fabray, hot as hell in my best outfit, and I still wouldn't be able to compete.

"Because." It was the best I could do.

"Really? 'Because'?" she was mocking me. "You seemed to have a lot to say earlier and now all you have to offer is 'because'?!"

I looked down at my lap where my hands were picking nonexistent lint from my dress. I was out of words.

Suddenly she was kneeling in front of me. Her hand was warm on my shoulder. "Hey," she said, quietly, "why don't we just... start over?"