A few text messages here and a few text messages there; their friendship was a freight train collision of inevitability; their mutual care for one another would be their undoing, and all that would be left would be themselves; Young and unforgiving.
Quinn's heart raced—she loved Rachel Berry. She loved Rachel Berry. She loved Rachel Berry. And in the final throes of the month of June that was simply enough. Their friendship was complicated – there were lingering touches over treacherous skin in the dark or against the earth, but no touch was long enough, smooth enough or permanent enough. Quinn found herself on a high precipice, walking on eggshells. How do you tell the love of your life that you love them – and how do you keep a friendship despite those odds?
At moments like these, Quinn sought sanctuary in her father's study. Large ornate modeling, canvased crème colored walls and framed prints of notable cartography works. She clicked on the stereo system and hit play on the cassette. That voice—like smooth honey, rang out and reached deep into Quinn's central core—"sing to me, Etta" Quinn thought as she slumped down into a heap on the rug.
It was another sweltering day in Ohio. And the humidity was stifling. Quinn wiped at her cheeks and forehead with unremarkable success. Her tank top clung to her skin like a second nature; she reached perspiring arms across her torso and shimmied out of her top. An Exhale as the warm air hit bare skin. Lying back on the rug, she curled up into a ball of heat before her phone rang. She picked it up and closed her eyes, placing the device next to her ear as she breathed in hot, sticky air.
"Hi, Quinn?" It was Rachel. Her eyes shot open and became frantic, she clutched blindly for the phone, finally finding it and dragging it closer to her ear, getting as close to her unforgettable voice as physically possible.
"Rachel…hi." Quinn sighed at the utterance of her name. It was a marker on her tongue, and whenever she spoke it she fell apart under its weight.
"Hi, I was just calling because I was curious as to what you had planned for the day? I'm kind of bored, and I wanted to find something to do… but, never mind it's all right – you don't have to hang out with me. Just forget that I even calle-,"
Quinn smiled, the little diva was nervous. Her fears and insecurities were almost tangible through the phone line. She cut her off before she could change her mind.
"No, Rachel. I, Uh…I'm not busy. What do you want to do?"
"I mean, just forget about it, I'm just gonna hang out at ho- …wait? You want to hang out with me?" The phone line between the two girls was silent, and Quinn could feel her nerves bubbling up within her chest, she exhaled inwardly.
"Yea…of course Blue." The giddiness in Quinn's chest seemed to rile up and expand with soft, welcome pressure. She loved that girl, and she would do anything for her. Anything in the world to make up for her past wrongs – and hanging out together as friends, it was a start. And it's what Quinn needed. It stilled her aching heart, and it made lonely nights a little bit more bearable – it made her feel like she was worth something; and that somehow in the grander scheme of things, she mattered. To someone, she mattered.
"Great! I'll head over to your house. Is now ok? I can be there in like fifteen minutes, ten if I take the short cut through the park. Whatever suits you!" Quinn smiled, and closed her eyes, letting her long chestnut lashes fall against her cheeks – she felt weightless at that moment. And Rachel was her anchor.
"Don't worry about it kid, I'll see you soon." Quinn hung up the receiver and smiled. Her smiles were reaching her eyes a lot more these days she thought quietly as Etta James crooned over her, latching on to all of the unsaid feelings that she so divinely felt.
Quinn had nodded off in her sleep. And she woke up to the sound of the door to the study opening quietly. "She usually hides in here whenever she's home. Oh, there she is. Have fun girls." Quinn could hear her mother's receding voice as footsteps padded along down the stairs from whence they came – and now she looked up to face a beautiful, smiling Rachel Berry looking down at her wilted form.
"Hi, Blue." Quinn muttered lazily as she fell back against the floor. Rachel smiled at her again, and her cheeks were rosy – was the brunette blushing? Quinn quirked an eyebrow at the thought, and then placed a hand at her collarbone, scratching a faint itch - and that's when she realized she wasn't wearing a shirt. She was lying on the floor of the study in a bra and denim cut-up shorts. Her skin was prickly and irritated from clinging wetly to the rug beneath her and she grimaced. God, this was embarrassing. She scrambled fumbling fingers around the floor, hoping to find her discarded shirt before she could embarrass herself any further.
"Sorry, It's hot." Quinn muttered begrudgingly as she continued to fumble. Rachel laughed then. It was brilliant and effervescent and everything Quinn hoped it would be. And then Quinn stopped fumbling, and she simply smiled back. Laughing now at herself as the music continued to play on the stereo system.
"It's sweltering. Isn't there AC in here?" Rachel quipped before plopping herself down at Quinn's side. Her bare shoulder only inches away from Quinn's scorching one. She took a deep breath. Calm, calm, calm.
"Nah, dad isn't really ever home, and he hates spending money on AC because the temperature changes give him colds or something. But I don't know, I don't mind it. It feels like a little mini- sauna." Quinn laughed, Rachel smirked.
"An insufferable, stuffy, gross study- sauna." Quinn hit Rachel's small arm playfully, tsk-ing her tongue against the roof of her mouth in mock indignation. The girls laughed together on the floor – and it was all the fun that Quinn and Rachel needed. Once the laughter died, Quinn traced a small pattern on the against the rug.
"I should probably find my shirt." She laughed. Rachel met her gaze and smiled back. The brunette was fond of the blonde – let's face it, she was completely enamored with her. Their growing ease of interaction since the pool party a week ago was addicting, and Rachel needed the proximity to feel complete. She was beginning to long for those fleeting glances, and the unanswered questions. She needed to feel the heat of Quinn's simple touch to burn her insides apart, and she loved it. The feeling was unforgettable – and it was something she'd never experienced before. Rachel was drawn to the blonde like a magnet. And it was irresistible.
"It's hot, I don't mind. We can stay here and just hang out. That way you don't have to think about getting dressed or anything, and I can listen to this amazing Etta James album with you over and over again."
Quinn blushed. She turned her eyes away from the diva - if she hadn't she would have kissed her right then and there. And that wouldn't do, not yet. Instead she fought hand over fist for composure and turned her face back around to stare at Rachel's equally flushed one and smiled,
"I didn't know you liked Etta James." Rachel gasped, then clutched a hand to her chest at the exclamation.
"Quinn Fabray. Etta James is a true diva, and a legend of classic soul, blues, and R&B. A true performer knows of all the greats and respects them - and Etta James my pretty blonde friend, is a great." Rachel beamed at her and laughed.
And then she paused. Had she just announced that she thought Quinn was pretty out loud? Firstly the statement was a lie – Quinn was far from pretty, she was stunning, a radiant star among dull orbs. And secondly, was that too much? Friendship was all Rachel could ask for now with this newfound Quinn, but she couldn't resist the fact that she craved more – she needed more. Quinn blushed further, and she was pretty sure her flush was creeping down her neck and collarbone – the mark of the fair toned.
"Are you blushing Blueberry?" Quinn teased, her smirk was evident. Rachel smiled bashfully, the rosiness of her olive cheeks only deepening. It was a cruel cycle.
"Well, you are pretty Quinn. You're the prettiest girl in the entire school – Simply stating the facts." Rachel said under baited breath. She was smiling but her chest was tense, and her mouth had gone dry. Quinn swallowed dryly. She loved the brunette even more. And she was happy – so happy in that moment just sitting there on the floor of her father's study with her.
"No…I'm not the prettiest girl in the school by far." Rachel quirked up her eyebrows, ready to protest the blonde's statement but was cut off by a steady finger to her wrist, stilling her immediately. Quinn was looking curiously at her now. The blonde's brows were furrowed and her lips were pressed together in thought. She looked as if she was struggling for purchase on a slippery slope, and Rachel grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly – simply giving her the resolve that she needed.
"The most gorgeous girl in the world goes to McKinley, and I'm not her. Right now, that girl is sitting next to me – and I can only dream of inhabiting some of her beauty for myself because she's so bright. She's like the sun, and I could stare into her eyes for days on end. She's you Blueberry – you are stunning both inside and out, and you make me want to be better. I am better because of you." Quinn couldn't help but give Rachel the truth right there – it was so spontaneous and heart-wrenchingly raw that the blonde couldn't help but sit there and turn her face to the floor as the well of tears behind her eyes began to fill.
Rachel clutched harder at their conjoined hands and scooted closer to Quinn, their shoulders were touching now, and there was a fire sparking between them. Rachel was left speechless at Quinn's words and she too couldn't fight the watery sheen beginning to coat her brown eyes as she looked back at a struggling blonde. Rachel crawled up into her - she scooted up to Quinn as far as she could and sat almost in her warm lap – she curled her head under Quinn's quivering jaw and laid a sweaty cheek against bare collarbone.
"Don't cry babe. That was the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me. And I'm honored that those words came from you. Anybody else and it would not have been the same…but it was you." Rachel's voice fought against the crack of a tear as she spoke softly against Quinn's skin. Her lips and breath brushed against the flushed skin there and Quinn's heart exploded in her chest. She turned her head away and burrowed it into Rachel's hair: she smelled like vanilla and coffee – it was soothing, and Quinn wanted to be closer still.
"Blueberry, I'm glad you're here." Quinn whispered into the brunette tresses as her fingers sought out fabric and began to stroke Rachel's back in soft concentric circles languidly.
Rachel looked up from Quinn's shoulder and stared into hazel eyes – and she saw that layer of passion that she had previously glimpsed momentarily, only now, in that moment it was pure and unyielding. She moved her free hand and brought it up to Quinn's face, marking each of the blonde's freckles softly as she touched her nose and cheeks. Quinn smiled at the intimate gesture. Rachel followed the freckles along Quinn's nose and was left in a daze. Her head was foggy, and all she could think was that she needed to taste it. She needed to taste each beautiful freckle on that face - and she moved closer, her mouth taking the place of her hot fingers. And she was kissing Quinn's nose, softly and daintily – her lips brushed against salty skin over and over as Rachel inter-connected the freckles with purpose and love.
Quinn sighed at the gesture, and her heart fluttered at the sensation. The kisses were chaste and sweet, but they were there and they burned a hole straight to the blonde's heart – she clutched wild fingers into Rachel's tank top as the brunette moved warm lips and breath over heated porcelain skin. Quinn exhaled and fluttered her eyes closed.
"You're beautiful Quinn." Rachel muttered over and over as her lips found new ground. They fluttered to her eyelids, placing sweet pressure there, before moving to her forehead and jawline. Quinn opened her eyes and moved a hand to Rachel's warm neck. Her hazel eyes; cloudy and misty settled on Rachel's brown ones and all the passion held there fell out in waves and pools. Quinn stroked a lazy thumb against olive flesh – Rachel's lips were parted and her breath came out in short strokes, Quinn inclined forward and fluttered her eyes close. Brushing eyelashes against tear stained cheeks.
And then she felt the brunette almost inside of her. Her breath was centimeters away, blowing gingerly against her own parted lips - and the she bridged the gap. Their lips met tentatively, they merged and ignited – their bodies became engulfed in heat and it seared their union. They broke apart – eyes closed and then Rachel delved back in. Their lips seeking pressure now – and all of the unsaid words between them expelled themselves through the contact. Flesh seared flesh as lips caressed. Quinn sighed into it, vowing never to let the brunette go for as long as the two of them were living on this earth.
And then she felt it. Rachel's warm tongue traced a pattern against Quinn's bottom lip seeking entry, and Quinn was undone. The seams broke apart and Rachel's tongue entered and met Quinn's – their bodies smashed together as the fire flamed and burned. Their touches lingered, and their fingers found new ground: tangling in blonde and brunette hair, stroking backs and torso's, softly fluttering to thighs and legs as they seared.
Their lips and hands intertwined in the humid air and relished in each other. All the while Etta James crooned sweetly in the background – reflecting their union with words of love and lasting.
"Oh, yeah when you smile, you smile
Oh, and then the spell was cast.
And here we are in heaven,
For you are mine…
At last."