Santana and I are huddled under a tree in the park, clutching large takeaway cups filled with steaming mugs of coffee, watching the rain batter the grass mercilessly.
The park is virtually empty; few had been brave (or crazy) enough to leave the relative safety of their homes in order to face the oncoming storm.
The rain is heavy- thick- as it clogs up the misty air of the city.
Cars are toeing one another in the streets, the horns and smog and scraping of windscreen wipers culminate in the dim, forming a low noise that is ever present, even in the green wilderness of the green estate.
The rainstorm had been brewing slowly for the last few days. So slowly and so methodically, that people had forgotten about it, or dismissed it.
The sky, however, had not forgotten, and now, four days after the first drops of rain had begun, the weather front had pushed forwards, completely engulfing the city, drenching any stray pedestrians who had been foolish enough to leave shelter.
Back at the loft was Kurt, huddled up in a cocoon of blankets and pillows, his nose tinted red and his skin sallow.
Kurt is ill.
So ill, in fact, that Santana and I had been forced to leave in search of medicine to help alleviate the sickness.
We had decided that, as a treat, we would buy some coffee for ourselves before heading back to the apartment, but, as we were taking a shortcut through the park, the rain had morphed into hail, and we decided to see if we could wait it out.
"Santana?"
The latina turns slowly, eyes widened in slight surprise at my sudden break of silence. She raises an eyebrow questioningly in response, because her mouth is otherwise occupied (still fixed on the lid of the coffee cup).
"Do you think that Sam is avoiding me?" I ask, throwing the words out into the air suddenly, with virtually no build up, hoping that she will simply brush it off as my own paranoia.
That Sam would never avoid me.
To my displeasure, she carefully lowers the cup, her dark brow furrowing- in pity?- as she regards me.
Of course, I babble.
Which is a stupid habit of mine that tends to appear when I am nervous, or stressed, or both.
"I'm not entirely sure, you see, as he did take on a new shift at the coffee shop at a time when he knew that I wouldn't be able to be there, but then he could've forgotten, or maybe one of his classes was moved and it clashes with his od shift. And then there's the fact that he always rushes out of the apartment when I'm there with Tyler, and-" I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with much needed oxygen. "he never responds to my texts, or picks up when I call him, but he does for you, and Tyler says that-"
"Rachel." Santana intones softly, breaking my intense rambling and pulling my attention back to her. Her eyes are narrowed slightly as she studies me, and her head is tilted ever-so-slightly to the side. "Why are you spending so much time with Tyler?" When I go to retort angrily, she holds up her hand, the universal signal for 'let me finish'. "I don't mean it in that way, it's just- Rach, you just spend so much time with him, it's like you two are dating, or something, which you aren't, because then you would have told me." She explains. "You would have told me, right?"
"I- San, we aren't dating, I just, I like having a friend who doesn't have such a large and complicated history with me. Everything is just so much simpler with Ty." I smile softly at her. "And believe me, there no way that Tyler and I would ever date."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Let's just say I'm missing an extra appendage." I reply, smirking as the realisation floods her face, her eyes widening slightly in surprise.
"Oh." She shakes her head gently. "Huh, I would never have guessed."
"Really?" I ask disbelievingly.
"Well, I suppose it does make a bit more sense now." She replies, lips curling up into a mischievous smile "So I guess 'Ryler' is never going to happen than?" She asks, and I giggle, scrunching up my nose in distaste.
"Ew, Ryler? Really? That just sounds like the name of a wannabe gang member."
Santana chuckles at my comparison, nodding her head slightly.
"You're right."
"I'm always right." I reply, smirking.
"Shut up, squirt." Santana snaps playfully, ruffling my hair in much the same way as one would do to a younger sibling. "Come on, let's bring princess Hummel his medicine."
I laugh freely, linking my free arm with hers and turning back towards her, grinning.
"Onwards!"
And on we went, through the torrential rain and back to our loft, bearing hot coffee and drugs, and smiling as though we weren't soaked to the bone.
"What are you doing here, Rachel?" Sam asked, frowning at me as the heavy rain outside battered the door.
It was day two of the stormy weather front, and the water was falling as heavily as it had been the previous day. The rainfall was so strong, in fact, that it had flooded the campus of the NYADA, and classes had been cancelled for the day.
No matter how upset I was at the loss of vital class time, I was thankful for the reprise from Cassandra July's brutal schedule, and was glad to have been given the opportunity to (at my roommates prompting) confront Sam about his behaviour towards me.
"I needed to talk to you." I began, stepping towards him, but he stepped back instead. My fists are clenched tightly at my sides in frustration. "You won't respond to any of my texts. You're never at the apartment, hell, it'd be like you didn't even exist, if it weren't for the fact that you have no problems at all in contacting anyone else." I shake my head, laughing bitterly to myself. "What the hell is going on, Sam?"
"I can't talk right now. I have to go." He replies tersely, shucking on his coat, and making his way towards the door.
I step across in front of him, cutting off his path.
"Go where?" I ask, bitingly. The fact that he constantly brushes me off is getting exceedingly irritating. "Because I talked to Tyler-"
He snorts.
I raise an eyebrow at him, my eyes narrowing dangerously.
"Oh, you talked to Tyler, huh? You managed to fit some words in between all the making out you two do?" He shoots back bitterly, his lips curling up in scowl as his blue eyes darken angrily.
He side steps my frozen form, wrenching open the door and stepping into the stormy grey streets.
I quickly regain my wit, pivoting on my feet and chasing him out into the rain.
"That's what you think happens?" I yell after him, the heavy rain causing my hair and clothes to stick uncomfortably to my skin, but that doesn't matter right now.
In fact, I hardly notice it at all.
"No girl spends that much time with a guy without getting some sort of feelings for him."
"Even if that were true, you would have no idea, since this-" I pause, waving a finger between us. "-is the most we've talked in over a month!"
"Only because you spend all of your time with Tyler." He growls, rainwater trailing down his face as his face scrunches up, his eyebrows bunched together as he watches me, daring me to disagree.
"Why does it bother you that he and I are friends?"
Sam reaches a hand up to brush his wet fringe off of his forehead, clenching and unclenching his hand as it drops back down to his side.
"Because I-" He grunts to himself, seeming to change his mind, as he stops talking, the muscles in his jaw working viciously as he steps forwards, very much into my personal bubble.
His large, slightly calloused hand comes up to cup my cheek, brushing the wet hair from my face and gently stroking my cheek as his face moves closer to mine.
I can smell his minty breath coming in soft puffs.
Slowly, so slowly, he moves closer to me, until I am almost cross-eyed as I try to watch him.
"Because you were supposed to fall for me." He whispers, the words reverberating against my lips for a second before he closes the remaining distance, gently caressing my lips with his own.
One of his hands rests on my waist, the other sliding around from my cheek to the back of my head.
Both of my hands are holding his jacket tightly as my body is crushed against his. The chill of the rain is forgotten in the heat emanating off of him.
But then I remember.
I can't do this.
I'm not ready.
Abruptly, I disconnect myself from him.
"I'm sorry." I murmur, lips still tingling. "I can't."
His eyes are still closed as I back away from him, then I turn and run.
And even through the pouring rain and the constant thrumming of my heart, I still can hear his broken voice call my name, but I don't turn around.
I can't.
*Leaves this here and backs away slowly from the pitchforks*
I'm sorry. So sorry. I know that I said that I would be quicker but then I had writers block and got caught up in my job but I did this one and was told to upload it even though it's shorter than the others... 3
Bear with me, I'm trying.
Hope you enjoy, and please review for me :) xS