Prompt from urkonstantine23: Try Sleeping With A Broken Heart
Broken
The tears in her eyes transfixed him.
It wasn't the fact that Rachel Berry was crying, although that in itself was disturbing, but more the fact that he had caused that pain. Each fat tear drop dripped down her face and streaked her cheeks as she stood in front of him.
"Fuck you Noah," she growled her voice thick with sadness.
"You did last night," he replied casually, shrugging his shoulders. He could hear the gasp of their fellow glee club members and he found himself smirking. Leaning back in the plastic chair he watched her color slowly drain.
He expected a witty remark; expected her to throw a tantrum and chew him out in front of everyone. What he didn't expect was the silence. She looked at him for a moment, her features a mask as she stared into his eyes, and then she nodded.
He watched the swish of her skirt as she walked away and wondered what had possessed him to do that. After all she was the only one who really gave a shit about him lately. Hell even his mother had started to give up on him and his mother was the one who had always believed in him.
It was so fucking quiet in the room that puck was sure that he could hear Finn's wheezing from all the way across the room.
"Dude," Finn muttered in shock.
"Shut it."
Picking his guitar up, he plucked the strings between his fingers letting the sound reverberate around him. Rachel was always so fucking dramatic and he contemplated how long it would be until she walked back into the room pretending it never happened. He gave her ten minutes, fifteen tops.
Twenty minutes later he realized just how badly he had fucked up.
The next morning, Puck found himself pulling into his parking space his eyes scanning the lot around him. There were people mulling everywhere and he could clearly see Finn and Quinn standing next to her prius. They looked up at the rattle of his engine and he watched Finn's brow scrunch as he muttered something to Quinn. Then Finn started towards him pulling his passenger door open and hopping in.
"We need to talk."
"If this is about yesterday, bro, I know alright." Puck growled running his hand across his face for a moment. "I get that I fucked up but it's Berry. She'll get over it, she always does."
There was confusion on Finn's face, with a hint of frustration. "Have you talked to her since yesterday?"
Puck thought back to his after school activities. After glee he had hurried home to watch his sister so his mother could go into work. After cooking her some mac'n'cheese he had locked himself into his room, trusting her not to burn down the house since she had already eaten. He had sent Rachel one text at ten pm that night, a simple "we're good, right?"
He had not gotten a response.
"No," Puck shrugged, "I haven't but you know how dramatic she is. I'm sure it will all be forgotten today."
Finn looked at him his face a mask of emotions. For the first time since Finn and Puck had been friends (and they had been friends for like fucking ever) he was unsure what emotion Finn was actually portraying.
"Puck," Finn muttered, "I need to tell you something before you get out of this car and walk into that school."
"Just spit it out," he grunted.
"People are saying you broke her."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Puck questioned.
"Supposedly," Finn stuttered, "Jacob saw Rachel running from the school last night right around the time that she left glee. It's all over his blog and all over the school. People are talking, Puck, and what they are saying, well, it isn't good."
"Why the fuck would I care what other people are saying? I'm Puck." As if this was enough of an explanation he shrugged his shoulders to emphasize the point. Pushing his door opened, his eyes scanned the lot looking for Berry.
If people were talking shit it would be a long day, and as much as he knew that she was probably pissed at him she still deserved a heads up (he wasn't a complete dick, ya' know?)
The warning bell rang and he grudgingly made his way to first period, his eyes hovering over her locker as he passed it. It wasn't until second period when he was in history class that he heard the soft murmur of whispers behind him.
"If you have something to say, fucking say it to my face." He gritted over his shoulder.
For the rest of the period, the class was silent.
It was eight pm when Rachel got the text from Tina.
"You might want to check Jacob's blog. Sorry. -T"
Pulling up his heinous website she clicked on the recent entry, her eyes scanning over the words in front of her.
Is Puckleberry officially dead?
MH's favorite mismatched couple were seeing fighting during glee club today. According to several sources R and P were in a heated argument over none other than Puck's fidelity to his dear little lady. When all was said and done the bomb was dropped.
Did Rachel really let Puck stamp another V-card? Sources are saying yes. And as for that running figure who left the school in such a hurry, none other than Mrs. Berry herself. Run, Rachel, Run.
Will their shaky relationship be able to last this newest blast? Only time will tell.
Slamming her laptop closed Rachel shook her head in disgust, letting the words stew in her head. Jacob's stalker tendencies had caused her more than a few problems through the years. While most of his posts had contained at least a small decorum of privacy, now it was all there in the open for everyone to see. Having the school know the private details of her relationship made her feel exposed.
Tugging on her pajamas, and ignoring the burning behind her eyelids, she made her way down the stairs and into the living room.
"Dad, Daddy," her voice was shaking, "I'm really not feeling well. Is it alright if I stay home tomorrow?"
Her Daddy took one look at her red rimmed eyes and nodded his head. "I'll call the school in the morning, dear. You look like you could use a day off."
"Thanks," she softly replied, kissing each of them on the forehead before heading back to her room.
Curling up under her comforter, Rachel finally let the few tears that she had been fighting fall.
She wasn't checking her phone, wasn't anticipating anything. After all this was Noah and he didn't apologize, ever. So when the gentle buzz of her phone wakes her from her slumber, she rolls over and looks at the message.
We're good right?
A scoff escapes her lips and she finds herself dropping her phone on the counter and rolling away from it. It's Noah, so she is not sure what she was expecting but it certainly wasn't the nonchalance of his non-apologetic message.
She spends her day off doing uncharacteristically un-Rachel like things. After sitting and watching a few hours of some horrendous vampire show on TV she tries to takes a nap (you try getting a good night's sleep with a broken heart).
Under better circumstances it would have truly been the perfect day.
It's around noon that she hears the nock on the door, the fist pounding out a rhythm against the wood. She is still in her pajamas, not to mention in a cranky mood, so she ignores the steady pounding and makes her way up the stairs to her bedroom.
A few minutes later the pounding stops.
Her eyes are drooping and lidded (she's way too tired) when her bedroom door swings open and Noah flops down on the bed beside her. He has this smug look on his face that pisses her off and before she knows what she is doing, she is literally screaming at him.
She calls him all sorts of nasty things and uses words that she would normally find deplorable. But she's tired and cranky and fuck it all to hell he needs to know how pissed she is. He sits silently, listening as the words tumble from her lips, his face set in a permanent scowl.
"Are you done?" he questions, once she sinks back into her pillow, "Because, by all means if you're not please continue."
"You're a jerk." She growls, her shoulders sagging. "Why would you ask for me to continue ranting on you anyways? What kind of person sits there and lets someone talk to them like that?"
"Honestly," he answers with a shrug of his shoulders, "you cursing is fucking hot."
It's not an apology, but it's Noah and she knows she probably is never going to get one. Plus, the make-up sex, well it's totally fucking worth it.
