A/N 1:
It was supposed to be a one shot but I cut it out in parts for easier editing (●´∀｀●)
This time around, we'll look at the whole thing through Rachel's eyes – the way she sees things is different from Finn, hence the difference in my writing style, not too much though (*^^*)
i.
Funny thing about memories is that they don't really go away, ever. They stay in our minds, pile up on the shelves and wait, as we live our little lives, as we bring more people to our heart and to our mind. Our wet retinas project the images, our eardrums vibrate to different sounds – countless, endless sounds. And in that colorful and chaotic festival of lives, there are certain people we can actually remember. Their faces reflect on the glass of an ordinary coffee shop; little things remind us about their features – the color of the ocean is the same as that of a certain pair of eyes; an untapped corner in a busy city brings back those scented days. Everyone lives their lives to find those certain people, that certain someone. Someone that we miss on a random August in a crowded city.
She has woken up, but stays still under the blanket, turns to her side and stares at the gold strand of light streaming through the gap between the two dark curtains of her room. A police's siren echoes from afar, the morning is slowly being built by sounds of hammers hitting on the concrete in construction sites and car honks. Rachel sighs and pulls the blanket over her head with an attempt to try to steal some more sleep.
"Come here."
He crooks his fingers at her and lifts the blanket up, pats on the bed as an invitation. She pulls her hair up – she doesn't miss his gaze at her naked chest – and keeps it in a top knot with the wooden pencil he keeps on the nightstand. "I need to get a shower."
"Come on, R. Lie down for a minute, won't you?"
"I'm dirty, look at the sweat on my skin!"
"I don't mind. Come here, little R. Please" – He bats his eyelashes and makes a face, pouting his lips. She chuckles and climbs on the bed. He scoots over and she lays her head on his arm. The room's turned cold, the fire has died out hours ago, but she didn't feel cold then because of, well, their "activity". Now, she feels the hair on her skin standing up, little goose bumps start to cover her skin.
"Are you cold?"
"A little bit." – She nudges his side and by now, he knows it too well that she wants him to hold her. Finn wraps his arm around her waist, the other resting behind his head. Rachel can never really explain it, but she likes the feeling when he hugs her. Probably because of their height's difference – he makes her feel even tinier but protected. Warm.
"Better?" – He whispers in her hair.
"Mm- hmm."
He pulls the thin blanket over their heads all of a sudden, and she opens her eyes to stare at him in disbelief.
"What are you doing?"
"Isn't this nice?"
She starts to paint on the blanket above her – circles, numbers, names and her feet kick the blanket lightly while she slides her fingertips against the smooth, silky and cool surface of the blanket."This reminds me of my childhood."
"Yeah" – He sighs and she turns to look at him; he's drawing things on the blanket too – "When I was young, I always do this. It makes me feel protected, you know? Like this is my own world now, and I could do whatever I want." – He chuckles, she thinks she can hear the vibration in his throat – "I used to hold up a flash and read encyclopedias under the cover. I could have been caught for other things, but no, I read encyclopedias, can you believe it?"
They both share a laugh then everything turns into a comfortable silence. She watches him spell words on the silky cover, and notices he has really beautiful fingers. Slender, gentle fingers.
She reaches for his hand and links their two pinkies together, mesmerized by the size's difference.
"Bonsoir" – He traces figures on her tiny hand and even though she isn't looking at him, she knows those amber eyes are on her, and their warmth seems to make its way to her body somehow.
"Bonsoir."
She startles as her cell phone which she has put on the wooden surface of the nightstand begins to ring – loudly.
"Hello?"
"Hey Rachel."
"Morning Char."
"Well, I just want to remind you that we have quite a busy day ahead of us. Let's see, erm, there's the new indie band, then we have a meeting with Mister East for the exhibition next week…"
"I know, I know Charlotte. I remember."
"Okay. Oh wait, what about that author? He's also having a photo shoot for his book."
"Who?"
"Finn Hudson."
ii.
She almost drops the phone to the floor but calms herself down by putting her hand on her chest and sucking in a deep breath.
"Finn… Hudson?" – She secretly hopes the blonde can't hear the trembling in her voice.
"Yeah" – Charlotte's exciting voice pierces through her ear – "You know, the author! I mean, Gosh, he's so fine; his eyes are all brown and stuff, and his body is super yummy, and he's so tall! I just want to…"
"Okay, okay Char. I've heard enough. Why didn't I know that we have a photo shoot with him?"
"What? Henry didn't tell you? I thought he told you, because he arranged for you to shoot Mister Hudson today."
"When did this ever happen?" – She stands up and furrows her eyebrows in anger while putting on her cardigan and slips on her bunny flip – flops – "Wait, hold up, Henry's calling me, I'll see you soon."
"Hey" – She greets him; annoyance is still present in her tone.
"Morning sunshine, how many clients do we have for today?"
"About that, Henry, why didn't you tell me about Finn Hudson?"
"Why, what? The author? Is there anything wrong?"
"Well…"
"Rachie, sweetheart, he's the next big thing, I'm telling you. His most recent book is already being considered one of the best for the past 5 years. We are lucky to have him in our studio. I mean, shooting for one of America's most famous authors is such a huge opportunity, you know? It really benefits our next week opening."
"Can you do it? I mean, if it's so important…" – She grabs the toothbrush – "What if I can't do it?"
"I'm in Ireland, Rachel. You know that. Besides, you'll be great. Don't worry. I have to go honey, and remember, you're Rachel Berry and soon to be Rachel Berry McClaine. Love you."
"Love you."
Rachel replies to the sudden beeping sound of the phone and slowly puts it down on the marble sink. She looks at her reflection in the mirror and studies her appearance. She doesn't look much different from the 18 – year –old version of herself, except for the dark circles under her eyes – not too dark – the signs of tiredness, of life impact on her. She takes the cardigan then the camisole off, standing only in her purple panties and looks at her body under the pale yellow light of the bathroom. She can see her ribs; she can see the curves of her tiny frame and the tattoo at her right hipbone.
"When did you get this?"
"When I was in Paris."
"A bird?" – He touches it so softly with his rough fingertips and moves his head closer to her hip.
"What does it mean?" – He asks without looking at her, his eyes are on the tattoo when he kisses it then gently nips at her skin.
"Freedom."
She slams her fists on the marble surface and puts her clothes back on, turns off the lights, turns off the memories then proceeds to get ready for a busy day ahead.
iii.
"So that's my idea of how you should display your work."
"I think we should change a bit here and there. I mean, let's make it more organic and truthful, you know? We should…"
"Miss Berry" – Mister East with his hair slick with gel shining under the bright white lighting in the studio clasps his hands together and leans forward – "With all my respect, I think I have been working in this field more than you, and this is the best way we can introduce your work."
"I don't agree, look, we need less lighting. Let's just put a frog –eye light bulb under each of my photos, then some dangling round bulbs from the ceiling, and that will be enough."
"That won't draw enough attention. You need more technology."
"My exhibition is not all bout technology…"
"Rachel?" – She hears Char's high voice and looks up to see the pretty blonde tentatively pushing the door open.
"Please come back later Char. I'm talking to Mister East. Look, as I was saying, I think we should focus less on the technology and this is…"
"But Rachel…"
"It's okay, I can wait. I showed up a little early anyway."
It's the moment when she first understands what people say when they mention "your heart skips a beat"
She slowly looks up and she can see, as clear as crystal, there he is, standing behind Char, giving her his sweet lope –side smile when their gaze meets.
"Hi R."
iv.
She asks Mister East to meet up again another time to discuss further about the exhibition and tells Charlotte to take him downstairs to arrange an appointment. Soon, there are just the two of them standing in the square studio of hers, with white and blue walls and wooden floor. She ducks her head and maneuvers around to gather her gadgets while he stands still; she feels his eyes on her when she looks away.
"This is nice" – He finally says, she hears the sound of his shoes on her wooden floor.
"Thank you." – She answers while fixing the light strobes, her back facing him.
"So, who was it back then?"
"Erm, he's a guy helping me with my exhibition next week." – She turns around and sees him looking at the apple painting on the wall.
"Really?" – He turns around and his eyes wide with surprise – "You got an exhibition next week? Congrats R!"
"Yeah, it's been really nice. So…" – She rubs her hands on her black skinny jeans – "Shall we begin?"
"Sure. What do I do now?" – He walks to her, with his usual long strides and soon, his built body is towering her small one. Moments like this takes her back to those days – all those days covered with a golden shell and glittering hours of being a carefree, wild and reckless 18 – year –old; knowing that there's always that one person who will love her no matter what she is capable of.
"Okay, sit on the chair and just relax."
She steps behind her camera and begins shooting while her heart keeps beating wildly against the thin material of her white tank top.
She looks at his face through the lenses and all the while studies his appearance. His skin has become less pale, the freckles on the bridge of his nose are still prominent – she used to love tracing them with her fingers. His eyes are still the color of amber, but now she sees a spark of a new color – brighter, gold even. His brown hair has some grey in it and he leaves on his scruff. She's actually loving this new look on him.
"You look good" – She says between the sound of the camera.
He smiles and looks down at his feet – she quickly snaps the scene and chuckles to herself – after all this time, he's still shy whenever she compliments him.
"Okay" – She zooms the lenses a bit – "Give me The Thinker".
"I'm sorry?"
"The Thinker, pose like the statue."
"Oh okay".
"So…" – The usual clicking sound of the camera echoes in the room – "Congratulations on your new book."
"Thank you R. I couldn't believe it when my publicist called me and said I got my first best seller. It's been crazy ever since."
"Yeah? I think, no, just hold it, okay, well, I think that you deserve it." – She looks up from the camera and smiles at him. She's calmed down, being able to take his pictures without shaking her fingers.
"Did you read the book?"
She can't tell him she wanted to; she can't tell him she always keeps herself updated about him ever since that day in Paris. She can't tell him she thinks of him too often these days.
"Not really. What's it about?" – She looks back at the camera and catches a light shade of disappointment on his beautiful face.
"Us." – He chuckles, his eyes still at the ground, his hands clasped together then he looks up to meet her gaze.
She's looking back at him and almost touches the tension in the air. Everything becomes silent except for his steady breathing and her rather quick one – she can taste it – the almost solid air and ringing sound of her heartbeats.
Time stops – little molecules in the air are floating around them, twirling and dancing into strings of scented old days and stirring up in her chaotic heart feelings she thought were long gone. Being here with him – the air between them squeezes into an invisible box whose width is within 5 little steps – is almost too much for her to bear. She wants to finish the shoot, she wants to shake off whatever she may be feeling at the moment, but staring into those sad amber eyes keeps her feet glued to the ground.
After a silent explosion, he stands up from his feet and walks to her. She immediately takes a step back, but before long he's standing in front of her – and here they are, years after that first time when she showed up at his front door – oh how she longs for the days – Rachel still feels as small as she did back then. She adjusts her gaze to the ground – and whispers:
"Please, Finn".
She's not sure what she's asking him to do – or perhaps not to do – but she asks him again, "Please".
He sighs and slowly lifts his hand to cup her face, his thumb traces the little mole she has on her left cheek. She closes her eyes almost immediately and lets out a trembling breath – she hears his heartbeat and his breathing closer, and closer, and closer…
There are knocks on her door and she can hear clearly the chirpy voice of her blonde secretary through the door:
"Hey Rachel, Henry's on the phone. Should I tell him to call you back or…?"
She looks up and their eyes meet. He's questioning her – waiting for her.
"No, I'll be there in a sec." – She answers while still looking into his eyes.
tbc
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A/N 2:
Wotzzzz uppp? Thank you so so so much for all of your reviews! There you have it guys, the sequel to "Creep"! I'm moving to Australia this week for 3 years to study so I guess my update time is going change ︿
Again, thank you for all of your support and please please please leave me reviews! Kisses and hugs! (づ￣ ³)づ