Dinner was a quiet affair. Breadsticks was crowded with people and Rachel couldn't help but feel that everyone's eyes lingered on her as they entered the restaraunt hand in hand. How did they know? Could they see it? Panic was creeping into her throat, but she knew better than to voice her opinions to him. If they could see the bruises, then it was not her fault. Even in her head, the words sounded unconvincing and contrived...iIf they noticed the bruises of course it was her fault. She wondered if she'd put on enough make up? She wondered if her sleeves were pulled down far enough? She wondered when he would loosen his grip on her hand because it was beginning to hurt, but she knew he could feel her tension and he was warning her to calm down.
"Reservation for two, please. Last name is Anderson."
His voice was smooth and self-assured, he smiled charmingly at the waitress who flushed at the attention and giggled unnecessarily. Rachel wanted to throw up, she hated the scene so much, but instead she just wound herself more closely to Blaine, pasted on the brightest smile she could despite the ever present ache in her jaw, and tried to talk herself into feeling hungry. The waitress chattered mindlessly to them as she lead them to a corner booth and Rachel did her best to stay tuned into the conversation, but soon found her mind wandering without meaning to. The waitress had an annoying voice, loud and high-pitched and she was reminded-with a pang of guilt after- of Kurt. "Thank you," Blaine's own voice cut into the conversation and Rachel snapped her focus back to the table as he helped her sit. She noticed the waitress staring at her a bit, and for one second she was sure she was going to say something, but then she noticed with a start that it was jealousy in her eyes, not accusation.
"Here are your menus, I'll be right back with your order."
Left alone, Rachel finally found herself relaxing and for the first time that day, she really did feel hungry. "What are you getting? I think I want the tofu salad, it's always so good, and they have my favorite dressing."
She was babbling, but she didn't really care. She sounded like the old her, the old Rachel, and god, was it glorious to be herself. She told him about her classes that day, and he listened intently, just like he had used to do, occasionally interjecting with some trite comment, but for the most part, just letting her speak. When she had ran out of things to say and the waitress, who now seemed to be ignoring them once she'd realized that Rachel was, in fact, Blaine's girlfriend and not his sister, had brought their salads and drinks, she stopped speaking and looked over to him shyly.
"Do you love me, Rachel?"
His eyes bore into hers with such intensity that it frightened her for a second before she found her voice enough to answer him. "Of course I do, Blaine! Why would you ask that?" Her voice was honest, sincere, and everything in her seemed to clench as if expecting the worst.
"I just wonder sometimes," he replied, his expression turning thoughtful. "I wonder why you stay with me, why I treat you the way I do, why you never tell anyone." Was it a test? Rachel swallowed hard, unable to tell and unwilling to give him the wrong answer and start another fight.
"Because I love you, Blaine," her eyes met his again, and she was surprised by the amount of ferocity behind her voice. "Because I know that you don't mean it, not really, because I know that you love me too, Blaine. Because I don't know who I am without you." And that was true, that much she knew was, and it almost broke her heart to admit it to him. Rachel Berry, the once proud, obnoxious, unflappable star of the Glee club who never took shit from anyone, who unfailingly knew who she was without any shred of doubt, no longer held that spark she had once had. Where had it gone? When had it been extingushed? She didn't know. She hadn't ever really thought of it.
"I love you too, Rach. I just...needed to hear it again, I guess."
And he smiled at her again, the smile that made her forget that it was him who had torn her apart time after time, that it was his fists that had made those marks on her body, and that it was that smile she knew she would see looming above her tonight when he took her body, willing or not.