Before I fell

In love with words,

With setting skies

And singing birds-

It was you I fell

In love with first

-Lang Leav

In the darkness of the bedroom, with only the brightness of her laptop screen the source of her light, Quinn cracked her knuckles and stared at the words she had typed in front of her. As a writer, her words were her weapon, her way to convey to the world what she felt and to tell the stories she wanted to share. Ever since she was a child, words always had this profound effect on her – hypnotizing and captivating her as she digested each letter, each word, each sentence, and each paragraph. They smote her and reeled her in, never wanting to let go.

And as she grew older, she found herself appreciating even deeper forms of literature along the way. As the words became harder to understand, Quinn would find herself staring at the same sentence over and over again until she could comprehend what the author had been trying to say, and the underlying meaning that was buried in between the lines.

Whenever she walked into a bookstore, her eyes would light up in pure delight as she scanned the rows of books that lined the shelves. Even now, at the age of twenty-six, she could still feel the excitement and joy as she bought another book to read and add to her collection. Whenever life was hard on her, all she had to do was take out a book, snuggled underneath the covers of her bed, and get lost in her own little world.

For the longest time, words had been her escape. An escape from the screams that her mother and father directed at each other while she stayed in her room, poring over her new book and ignoring the heated arguments in the living room that always seemed to happen. They had been her solace, her light whenever the darkness tried to consume her.

Content with what she had accomplished, Quinn smiled and shut her laptop, yawning and stretching as she stood up. Glancing at the alarm clock on the bedside table, she saw that she had been up late. Again. Her hazel eyes drifted towards the woman sleeping on the bed, long, chestnut tresses framing her angelic face, lips parted and arms wrapped tightly around a pillow.

The sight caused Quinn's heart to melt, a bright smile playing at her lips as she caught sight of the golden band that was on her wife's ring finger. Rachel Berry-Fabray. Even after four years of being married to the love of her life, Quinn never got tired of watching Rachel sleep peacefully, especially after another gruesome rehearsal.

Quinn may wield the power of words, but every time she looks at Rachel, she finds that the power is immediately stripped from her. She could describe how other things make her feel; like the sense of accomplishment when she submits a new chapter to her editor, or the joy she feels whenever a new book of hers becomes published and attains glorious reviews. But when it came to trying to describe how Rachel makes her feel; it's nothing short of impossible. Words failed her whenever Rachel would smile at her, bright and beaming after they share a kiss. Or even before, or actually, every time Rachel simply looked at her with her brown, doe eyes that always stole Quinn's breath away.

Nothing could ever describe just how much she loved her wife. No song, no poem, no book could ever do justice to what she felt for Rachel.

When Rachel came along, novels were no longer enough to keep her sorrow at bay. Rachel was brighter, warmer than anything Quinn ever experienced before. The love that was spoken of in romance novels were dimmed by the love and devotion Rachel showed her. The romance blossoming between fictional couples were a far cry from Rachel and hers. For Quinn, nothing was as beautiful as caving in to the endless depths of emotion that opened up within her heart whenever Rachel took her hand and locked their fingers together, her brown orbs shining with love as she squeezed her hand.

Before Rachel, she loved words. After falling in love with Rachel, she too fell in love with words. With words that Rachel spoke to her during their dates, or when they cuddled in bed. Rachel telling her that she was beautiful, that she loved her, and that she deserved to be happy and have the best in life.

For Quinn, Rachel was her happiness, the best she has in her life.

Rachel saved her from her own family; from the despair that she was slowly sinking into. The one that pulled her out of her fear that she might not be able to find someone who would love her unconditionally and accept all of her flaws.

But Rachel loved her so dearly and wholeheartedly that sometimes, Quinn felt as though she was a dream. Never in her whole life did she imagine that someone would care for her as deeply as Rachel did, and it all felt surreal to her. After what happened between her parents, Quinn started to believe that true love only existed in fictional novels and in movies. She began to question if people could really love each other that much to grow old together and believe that they would be together for eternity.

Rachel made her believe in true love again; that what happened to her parents' relationship shouldn't affect her belief that two people could be happy together. Slowly but surely, Quinn fell in love with Rachel and her words of comfort.

Despite her brokenness, Rachel willingly accepted her with open arms and made her whole again. Her father always made her believe that she wasn't good enough and that she couldn't live up to his standards. All her life, she struggled to please him; strived to be the perfect daughter that he wanted her to be. In the process, she lost sight of who was and what she really wanted in life.

His words, painful and scarring. Words of disappointment that Quinn hated hearing. And in those moments of expressed disappointment, Quinn learned that words not only had the power to heal, but also to break and cause grief. It was his words that Quinn didn't want to hear, ones that killed her to listen to.

And her mother. Her mother never spoke up or defended her from the scathing words that her father directed at her. There were no words of comfort or security to help Quinn believe that her parents loved her, even for a moment.

Quinn hated listening to her father, hated feeling that she wasn't good enough of a daughter for them.

Hated how they never told her once that they loved her or that they were proud of her.

But Rachel…

Quinn loved hearing Rachel talk, loved to hear her sing as she danced around the kitchen while preparing their breakfast. Rachel's words were like music to Quinn's soul, coaxing her out of her shell and embedding themselves deep inside her heart. Her voice was like an angel's, and nothing felt sweeter to Quinn than listening to Rachel talk with the occasional giggle that broke through the darkness.

And the sounds that Rachel made whenever they made love; breathy and soft and absolutely perfect. The way her fingernails dug into her shoulder, body arching up gracefully as she rolled her hips to feel more of Quinn's fingers. The way her brown eyes were filled with pure bliss as she came undone, screaming her name into the air as the white-hot pleasure crashed over her body.

In those moments, Quinn simply watched as Rachel thrust back against her fingers, her mind at a loss to think of anything as her lovely wife kept moaning out her name, her forehead matted with sweat as they made love over and over again.

Rachel's words held the power to heal her broken soul. Not once did she ever tell Quinn that she was disappointed in her or that she wasn't ever good enough for everything. Even in her eyes, Quinn never saw a flash of disappointment in them. They were bright and warm, and just one glance from them would still the turmoil that raged on inside of Quinn.

Rachel never made her feel that she was broken or someone to pity. There was concern, yes, but Rachel never made her think that she was weak a person to pity too much. Rachel never stripped her pride, never stomped on her or looked down on her. She never looked at her the way her father did.

Words were beautiful, but for Quinn, Rachel was even more beautiful to behold. As much as she loved reading in between the lines, she loved watching Rachel more. The way her nose scrunched when she laughed in delight, or the way her eyes crinkled whenever she beamed widely, her pearly white teeth brighter than the sun. How her brown eyes would twinkle whenever she bowed down onstage, with the audience clapping and throwing flowers at her feet. How they would soften whenever Quinn would lay her down in bed and filled with trust as she slowly took off her clothes.

The expressions Rachel made as Quinn pressed her lips all over her body, how she would bite her lip as she waited in anticipation for the next move. The way her hands would thread through her hair as Quinn knelt in between her legs, her tongue tasting the sweet nectar that flowed out of her lover's core. How her lips would part in a silent gasp as Quinn licked her mound. How she would crane her neck as an invitation for Quinn to mark her.

How Rachel would watch with adoration as Quinn felt her fingers pump inside of her, filling her and completing her that she was sure no one else would be able to. The way her eyes would roam across her naked body in reverence as her hands ran all over her body. How she would whisper sweet nothings into Quinn's ear as she slowly came down from her high, slender fingers caressing her face.

The way Rachel spoke to her softly and sweetly as they drowned in the bliss of their lovemaking, her words endearing and filling Quinn's chest with warmth.

Quinn smiled and watched as Rachel sighed and hugged the pillow closer to her, as though yearning for her. With a light chuckle, Quinn crawled over to the bed and gently pried the pillow away from Rachel's arms, earning a whine of displeasure. Quinn laughed softly and slid underneath the covers, taking Rachel's arms and wrapping them around her waist as she pressed their bodies together.

Resting her chin on the top of Rachel's head, Quinn hummed a soft tune, listening to her wife's steady breathing and heartbeat.

"Mmm, Quinn?" Rachel mumbled sleepily, brown eyes half-open as she glanced up at her wife.

"Yeah, Rachel?" Quinn said softly, her heart melting at the adorable sight in front of her.

"Are you done?" Rachel asked, voice rough with sleep.

"Yes, baby. Sorry I disturbed you…"

"It's no problem, Quinn… No harm done," Rachel yawned and snuggled closer to Quinn, face buried against the writer's chest as her hands moved to grip the sleeves of her sweatshirt.

"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here," Quinn whispered quietly as she ran her fingers through silky brown locks.

"Mmkay. I love you, Quinn," Rachel sighed, eyes slowly starting to close as she tangled their legs together.

"I love you, too, Rachel," Quinn breathed out, smiling as Rachel purred and hugged her closer.

Out of all the words that fell off of Rachel's lips, it was those three words that she fell in love with the most. How she meant them, and that she would always mean them.

Before words, it was Rachel that she fell in love with. And though they would fail her at times, Quinn knows that Rachel would never fail her.

Rachel was the reason that Quinn learned to fall in love with words; why she continued to fall even more deeply in love with them.

But deeper and more beautiful was the way she fell even more in love with Rachel with each second that passed by.