Disclaimer: These characters belong to the creators of Glee, I own nothing. If I did, Faberry would most definitely be a couple.

Authors Note: Since Glee ended last night I thought I'd update today rather than tomorrow! Thank you all for the reviews and story alerts. I really enjoy reading what you all think and it never fails to surprise me that people like the story Those walls of Quinn's, they're slowly crumbling down. I hope this chapter is okay and that you all enjoy it. As usual all mistakes are mine!


Chapter 9:

"You know?"

Rachel nods slowly. "Well I had a suspicion that you were jealous and my suspicions are usually surprisingly accurate. It's actual quite scary."

"How did you know?"

"You snapped at me twice yesterday and both times were as a result of Finn," she explains. "I kind of just put two and two together and guessed it was jealousy. But when you really lost your temper at the news that he tried to kiss me then it really clicked and I realised that my guess was correct."

"I thought I was more subtle than that," I joke.

"If you thought you were as subtle as a brick then you were right," she replies playfully. "I just…I don't understand why you were jealous." Maybe she hadn't said it earlier but this is clearly when she is going to tell me that I have no right to be jealous but once again that doesn't happen. "There is nothing between Finn and I, even if he wants there to be. He is a part of my past Quinn, not my future."

"That's the reason," I say as I recall Santana's confession to me last night about how she is jealous of Artie because he is part of Brittany's past.

Rachel cocks her head to the side slightly. "Do you mind explaining that a little bit more because I'm still not sure why you were jealous?"

"You share all these memories with him and I guess that made me jealous because I don't share those things with anybody. I don't share any memories with you."

"Memories are brilliant but memories are just….they're things you think about because you're not living them anymore. In my opinion, it's making memories that's important," she replies. "And I like to think that the reason we don't share any memories is because we're in the process of creating them."

I feel butterflies appear in the pit of my stomach. "You want to create memories with me?"

Rachel smiles, almost as if she can't believe I needed to ask the question. "Of course I do, I love spending time with you Quinn, more than I ever thought I would. As far as I'm concerned, we've got plenty of time to make memories, Finn is my past but you Quinn, you're my present. There's no need to be jealous, okay?"

"Okay," I whisper quietly as Rachel grabs some clothes from her drawer.

"Do you mind if I get changed?"

I shake my head. "Go ahead, I'll be here."

She momentarily looks relieved before she disappears in the bathroom. I'm curious as to why she didn't get changed in front of me considering I've seen her naked before but I guess she must still be self-conscious about her body. I inwardly tut at her lack of confidence in her body, although on the other hand I'm slightly glad she's gone to the bathroom. I don't think I'd have been able to control myself around her and we need to have a proper conversation, I need to tell her things and if I don't do it now, I'll lose my courage.

"Sorry about that," she says as she returns to the bedroom fully dressed.

"It's okay." She heads over to the mirror and releases her wet hair from its entrapment before beginning to brush it. "I'm so sorry Rachel." The words come out in a panicked whisper.

She stops brushing and looks over her shoulder at me. "You don't need to apologise Quinn."

"No, I do. I'm sorry I made you feel pathetic, I should never have said what I did," I say apologetically, inwardly wincing as I remember our conversation last night. "You have to know that if I could take it back I would."

"I know you would." She says softly before putting her brush down and walking towards me. "I'm sorry too; I should never have called you fucked up. I know that must have hurt and I regretted it the moment the words left my mouth." Remorse is evident on her face as she speaks. "We both said things that we didn't mean in the heat of the moment and I'm willing to forget everything that happened last night and just move on if you are?

That sounds good.

If only I could do that.

"I can't," I reply and her face fills with a mixture of worry and confusion. "That came out wrong. I'm not mad at you and you have no idea how glad I am that you're not mad at me but what you said last night, Rae, you were right. It is always one step forwards, two steps backwards with me. One minute I'm treating you like you deserved to be treated and then I'm snapping at you and you deserve so much more than that."

"It's okay; I know you don't mean it. Don't worry about it."

I examine her face to see whether she's lying but I can't figure her out. "But I do worry about it and I know that I need to change. I just…I don't know how else to be." My voice sounds more fragile than I would have liked.

Her face softens at the tone of my voice. "Maybe you could try one step forward and then another step forward," she says gently. "I find that that works for me but then again, that's just me." She smiles at me letting me know that she's not being serious.

"You make it sound so simple."

"I find that most things are a lot simpler than you first think," she says.

"Let's try it then," I say confidently. "Let's try one step forward and then another." She sits on the bed and stares up at me whilst I speak. "Ask me a question."

"I'm sorry?"

I take a seat beside her on the bed and stare at the floor. "You want to know about me and for the first time I want to tell you but I'm awful at this."

"Awful at what babe?" My head snaps up suddenly at the term of endearment and her eyes widen when she realises what she's just said. "Sorry, I know you don't like being called babe...it just slipped out."

I choose to ignore the fact that she called me babe because the fact that it came out so naturally, like she's used to calling me it made my heart swell with adoration. "Awful at opening up, I don't know where to start or what to say so if you ask me a question, maybe that will help." She nods understandingly and I wait for her to ask me something but she remains silent. "Have I made Rachel Berry speechless?" I question playfully.

"No," she replies quickly, playfully slapping me on the shoulder. "I'm just thinking of a good question."

"Okay, whenever you're ready."

"You know, ever since we first met I've been curious about you. I've wondered why you are the way you are but now I actually have the chance to find out, I can't think of anything to ask," she says. "Is that stupid?"

"No. I've asked you out of the blue, you weren't expecting it."

She exhales heavily. "You said the other day that your high school experience was bad, what happened?" She asks. "Or how about why you don't do relationships? Or why you don't like marriage." She pauses for a second. "Sorry, I know you said a question."

"All of the answers are pretty much linked together anyway."

Rachel nods. "In that case why don't you just start from the beginning and tell me what you want to."

I fiddle with my cross necklace. "Have you heard of Pandora's box?"

"Yes but I don't understand what that has to do with anything," she says. "You're quite cryptic sometimes, do you know that?"

I laugh softly. "Sorry but I do have a point."

"What is it?"

"The box tempted Pandora and although she tried to resist, her curiosity got the better of her and she opened it. I wonder what she thought would be in there, probably something wonderful like gold. She didn't expect to unleash hordes of disease and evil into the world. But that's what happened."

"Quinn, I really don't understand..."

I hold my hand up to stop her from speaking. "It means you can be as curious as you want but there's no guarantee that you're going to like the answers you get," I explain. "I don't want you to think any less of me after I tell you everything."

Rachel smiles warmly at me. "I don't think there's anything you can say that would make me think any less of you."

"Let's see if you say that again when I've told you everything." I run my fingers through my hair nervously. "I'll answer your high school question first and then you'll get the answer to everything else you're probably wondering about."

"Just tell me whatever you feel comfortable with," she says softly. "And if you want to stop then stop, I don't want to make you do anything you do want to."

I cup her cheek gently. "How are you so perfect?"

"I highly doubt I'm perfect Quinn, I have plenty of flaws you've yet to see."

"Well I think you're perfect, undiscovered flaws and all."

Rachel blushes at my compliment and nuzzles into my hand. "You're stalling," she says quietly. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

I bring my hand away from her cheek. "No, I want to." I bury my head in my hands for a second to compose myself before facing Rachel. "When I was in High School, I was bullied, a lot. I used to be much bigger than I am now, rotund if you want. I didn't really have any friends, only this one Irish student called Rory who moved to America when he was fourteen. He was my only friend and I was his. Most people couldn't understand his accent, even I struggled sometimes but he was a really great guy and a fantastic listener," I joke lightly but Rachel doesn't crack a smile. "Did you used to want to be like Santana and Brittany?"

Rachel furrows her eyebrows whilst thinking. "It depends what you mean by want to be like them. I never really dreamed of being popular but I wanted people to look at me like they looked at Santana and Brittany. I wanted people to respect me."

"And they didn't?"

"I received many slushie facials before I met Finn, then I guess everything changed. I guess I did sort of become respected and nobody looked at me like they did when I started high school."

I nod at her explanation. "I used to look at the popular crowd and wish that I could be a part of them. But they just saw me as a loser. You said that you used to be a loser so I guess we're a perfect match. My weight was my weakness, my biggest insecurity and everybody used it against me. They tortured me for it, taunted me and shoved me into lockers just to see how much they'd vibrate."

"Quinn..."

"Please don't," I plead and she apologises quietly. "It sounds pathetic but do you know what I wanted more than anything in high school?"

"What?"

"Somebody to love me," I say quietly. "Tragic right."

"Not at all."

"Nobody in my school looked twice at me in a romantic sense, boy or girl." I smile shyly when I see that Rachel is holding her hand up, begging to ask a question. "You don't have to put your hand up babe."

Like hers had earlier, my term of endearment comes out naturally and her face lights up. I can't help but smile wider at her.

"I didn't want to interrupt."

"What's wrong?"

"You said boy," she says slowly. "I thought you were gay."

"I am. I just didn't accept it at first. I think I always knew I just...I was already picked on for being fat, I didn't want to be picked on for something else," I explain. "One day I just decided I'd had enough, it was either give up or fight back. So I decided to stop wallowing in self-pity and lose the weight. I started exercising and dieting and although it took months, eventually I came back to school looking like I do now, only younger and with blonde hair." Rachel brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's amazing how losing weight causes people to look at you like you're a different person. It's almost as if nobody remembered what I used to look like. People started asking me out but I knew that they didn't care about me, they just wanted sex. I mean I had gone from an overweight loser to a hot teenager. But I wasn't willing to give it to them. I guess I was naive but I believed that you had to be in love to have sex," I tell her. "Anyway, I wanted to wait for somebody special to lose my virginity. Somebody I was in love with."

"That's understandable; I wanted to wait until I was 25 before I had sex."

"I'm guessing that never happened? Unless…please tell me I wasn't your first."

"No Quinn you were not my first!" Rachel shakes her head fervently. "I mean have you seen me, as if people wouldn't want to have sex with me," she boasts playfully. "No I'm only joking. I know I'm not as hot as Santana and Brittany or as beautiful as you…"

"Why do you do that?" I ask curiously. "Why do you always put yourself down? You are beautiful Rachel; don't ever think that you're not." I can see a blush appear in her cheeks and she ducks her head in embarrassment. I place my finger under her chin and bring her head back up. "So when did you break your rule then?"

"When I was 18, I slept with Finn in high school."

I can feel a small element of jealousy appearing in the pit of my stomach at her admittance that Finn was the one to take her virginity. "If you wanted to wait then why didn't you?" I question, avoiding her gaze ever so slightly.

"I was in love with Finn and even though part of me wished I had waited until I was 25, I don't regret it because it felt right. I wanted to share everything with him."

"I slept with somebody a couple of months later. Somebody I didn't love," I say.

"If you wanted to wait until you were in love, why didn't you?"

"After I lost all the weight and people started noticing me I thought my life was going to become perfect. Then a month later, my mom told me she had cancer, breast cancer," I say quietly and I think I might have spoken too quietly for Rachel to hear but the comforting squeeze on my knee tells me that she has. Thankfully she doesn't say anything. "She kept telling me that she was fine and she would beat it but I was only sixteen so naturally I didn't believe her and I thought the worst. Every time she told me that she would beat it, I thought...I thought what if she doesn't? What if it beats her and she dies?"

"Quinn..."

"I suppose every child at some point thinks about their parents dying and then they never want to think about it again because the mere thought that they won't be there to look after you anymore is so horrid that you just...you can't cope with it." I pinch the bridge of my nose to keep my tears at bay. "I was different though, I never thought that, my parents were invincible in my eyes. I think that's why her cancer hit me so hard."

Rachel looks like she wants to say something but stays silent, allowing me to talk.

"I never thought about life without my mom or dad and now I had to because there was a possibility that one day my mom wouldn't be there. I used to panic whenever she went to bed in case she didn't wake up again. I used to wait for the day that the doctors told us her cancer was untreatable. When she was first diagnosed, we all pretended that everything was fine; we all pretended that her cancer didn't exist. It was almost like a cold, she would be ill for a little bit but then she'd get better. I used to sit in my room and wait for the pretence to be over, I waited for the news to come that she was going to die." I place my hand over hers which is still resting on my knee and she turns her hand so it's palm upwards, lacing her fingers with mine. "I think that people react to personal trauma one of two ways, they either shut down and keep everything locked in which is what I do now, or they act out as a way of dealing with their problems. That's what I did first."

"How?"

"My mom's cancer made me realise that life was too short to wait for love so I slept with the captain of the football team," I say simply. "In fact I slept with most of the footballers." Rachel's eyes widen a little. "I know, slutty."

"I didn't say anything," she replies defensively.

"You didn't have to; I know that I was a slut. Until I met you, I spent my life sleeping around with random people. Back then I spent almost a year acting out and sleeping around but whenever my mom needed me, I was there for her. You said Santana became a bitch to deal with her troubles, I guess having meaningless sex was how I dealt with mine. For just a small moment of time, I wasn't the daughter of a cancer patient, I wasn't burdened with my mom's illness, I was just me."

I sniff slightly and Rachel shuffles closer to me, releasing her hold on my hand and wrapping her arm around my waist. "Did your dad not know about this?"

I scoff loudly. "My dad was a little busy."

"That's understandable, I mean if his wife was ill I'm sure he had his hands full but I'm sure he would have taken the time to hear your worries," she says. "You're his daughter after all."

"He was busy fucking another woman," I spit coldly and she flinches at the obscenity and my tone. "Whilst my mom had a mastectomy, he was having an affair. Instead of holding her hand, he was cheating on her. So no Rachel, he wouldn't have taken the time to hear my worries, to hear about my behaviour, he couldn't even be there for his sick wife. So I was there, I held her hand through the doctor's appointments, I held her hand when the doctor told her she needed a mastectomy and I held her hand the day the doctor told her she was in remission."

"That's..."

"I was sixteen!" I shout, ignoring her interruption. "I was a child who was dealing with the possibility of losing my mom, I didn't even contemplate the possibility of losing my dad," I say, tapping my fingers against my thigh nervously. "After my mom went into remission, I told him I knew what he was doing and told him to leave. I didn't want my mom to find out but I also didn't want her living with that scumbag. Obviously he laughed off my demand and stayed where he was." Rachel squeezes my hip softly. "So I went with Plan B and told him I was gay."

"How would that help?"

"My father was a devout Christian; he thought homosexuality was a sin. I was brought up believing the same thing...that if I looked at women the way I should look at men then there was something wrong with me. I was a sinner and would go to hell." I exhale sharply. "I guess that's another reason why I didn't want to accept the fact that I was gay. Then I witnessed my father committing adultery and he had the audacity to lecture me about right and wrong when he was breaking one of the Ten Commandments."

"That's very hypocritical of him," Rachel says.

"My father is the king of hypocrisy. It's one rule for him and another for everybody else," I spit. "My mom needed to focus on getting better and I didn't want to burden her with the fact that her husband was cheating on her. So I told my father the one thing I knew would make him hate me, I told him I was gay," I explain and I can see confusion fill Rachel's eyes.

"I don't understand why you would want him to hate you."

I ignore her question because she'll get the answer in a minute. "I could see the hatred form in his eyes as he looked at me. It's almost as if I could see him disowning me in his mind." I look at Rachel and realise her eyes are filled with unshed tears. "You told me that you were worried people in high school hated you but they didn't. If they did, you'd have known for definite because you would have been able to see it in their eyes and you would never have forgotten that feeling. That feeling you get when you realise that you don't measure up, when you realise that somebody hates you." I finger my cross necklace nervously, feeling anger bubble up inside. "He did exactly what I thought he would do, he told me to get out of his house. But I knew he would lose his temper and disown me but I also knew my mom would rush to my defence, she would be there for me, like I had been for her. She would defend her daughter against a homophobic man; blood is thicker than water and all that. She wouldn't let him kick me out and instead she would throw him out. That way I get rid of him without my mom knowing the sordid truth."

"I have a really bad feeling that that didn't happen."

"Well you're right," I say. "She agreed with him." I wipe my eyes as I feel tears brimming. I can't cry, I won't cry over my parents. "She sided with him and told me to leave. I had been with her every step of the way through her cancer, I'd been there when he was nowhere to be seen and she repaid me by taking his side. I wanted to tell her about the affair but deep down I couldn't. She was still weak and recovering, I didn't want to do anything to jeopardise her health. She was still my mom after all."

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't...don't give me sympathy," I warn her briefly. "You have no idea what it's like to have your parents turn against you, to look at you as if you're nothing to them anymore."

"What happened?"

"I left straight away. My mom watched as I packed and I thought she wanted to say something, I thought she was going to change her mind but she stayed silent and watched me leave. She let me leave. I moved in with Rory and his parents and lived with them for the next two years until I went to college and I've been on my own ever since. When I walked out of my parent's house, I swore to myself that I was done with them."

"Have you not spoken to them since?"

"My mom reached out to me in my second year of college, said she wanted to rekindle our relationship. Said she wanted to try again. The woman who stood by and let me get thrown out suddenly wanted another chance. I told her about my dad's affair because she was healthy and because I didn't care about protecting her anymore and do you know what she said?" Rachel shakes her head even though the question is rhetorical. "She said she knew. Always had. I couldn't believe that she would stay with him after what he did, that she was still with him. I mean having an affair is horrible; having an affair whilst your wife could possibly be dying is downright disgusting. I asked her why she would stay with a man who clearly didn't love her and she looked me in the eye and told me that she loved him too much to walk away. She loved him too much to leave him and be alone. No matter what he did, she still loved him, always would."

Rachel stares at me open-mouthed. I guess when she asked for me to open-up she wasn't expecting this. I had warned her that she wouldn't like the answers she was given but judging by her expression, she hadn't believed me. She probably thought I was mimicking her and being a drama queen.

"I told her to leave and that was the last time I ever spoke to her." Rachel's eyes widen in curiosity. "A couple of months later I got a phone call from my dad, I knew something was wrong otherwise he wouldn't be calling me. You know when you have that feeling that something bad is going to happen, almost like a premonition." She nods. "I think deep down I knew what he was going to say before I even answered the phone and I was right. He told me that my mom had died, her cancer had returned. He hadn't called me when her cancer came back just when she had died, that way I didn't have to be in his life for long. He didn't even give me a chance to say goodbye. My mom had been sick when she came to see me, she wanted to try again with me because she knew she was dying and it was her last chance and I threw it back in her face."

"You couldn't have known."

"But I should have!" My voice is louder than expected and Rachel jumps at the volume. "My mom died and the only person she had by her side was her adulterous bastard of a husband."

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologise," I say angrily. "I never understand why people say they're sorry. I mean it's not your fault. You don't apologise for something you haven't done so why apologise for a person's death. Unless you killed them, you have nothing to apologise for. It's such a stupid phrase!"

Rachel ducks her head nervously. "I guess people don't know what else to say other than sorry."

"Anything is better than sorry." I reply in a softer voice. "You know, I never went back home for my mom's funeral." I don't look at Rachel because I don't want to see her facial expression. "You must be thinking what sort of daughter doesn't go to their own mother's funeral."

"I wasn't."

"I wanted to. I bought the plane ticket and everything but I just couldn't get on that plane." I rub my hands on my thighs. "I couldn't go back, not because I thought the funeral would be too hard, but because I couldn't face my father. I didn't trust myself around him and I feared I would do something that I wouldn't regret. My aunt told me it was a beautiful ceremony and she told me where the grave was, for when I come home. She didn't ask me why I wasn't there, I think, honestly she knew." I glance at Rachel to see her staring at me intently. "That day I left Tallahassee for New York was the last day I stepped foot there, I haven't been back home since."

"Why not?"

"Because I feel so fucking guilty Rachel." She winces at my obscenity once more. "I can't go and visit her grave because I don't know what I'd say. I hate her for siding with my father! She abandoned me. She's my mom and I should love her but I hate her for what she did. I can't go to her grave because even though I hate her, I hate myself more."

"Why?"

"Because if I had given her a second chance, she wouldn't have had to die with only him by her side, if I hadn't been stubborn I would have had more time with her." I can feel tears brimming in my eyes once more before I blink them away.

"You can't think like that."

"No matter what my feelings are towards her, I hate myself for leaving her with him. I should have been mature and heard her out. I should have gone to the funeral."

"I'm sorry Quinn."

"Stop saying that!" I stand up quickly causing Rachel to jump at my sudden movement. "You wanted to know why I don't do relationships; my parent's marriage is exactly why not."

"Because your father had an affair?" Rachel asks, remaining on the bed.

"Because I don't want to love somebody so much that I can't walk away from them no matter what they do. I can't be that dependent on somebody, that's not who I am. I've had to be self-sufficient since I was eighteen, I don't know how to be that dependent on somebody else," I shout.

I haven't even noticed Rachel approach me until her arms are around my neck, pulling me into her. "It's okay Quinn."

I push her away harsher than intended. "You see the world through rose-tinted glasses; you grew up with two loving parents. I'm sure you were the idyllic little family. You don't know what it's like to be so afraid to love somebody because of what happened to your parents. Are your dads happily married?"

"Very happily married," she responds and I can tell she's unsure at the change of topic.

"And do you aspire to be like them in the future?" I ask before rephrasing the question. "Do you want what they have? The happy marriage, contentment, security."

"Doesn't everybody?"

"When I was little I used to want to be like my parents, I wanted to have the happy marriage, the ideal family but that's naivety Rachel. Behind closed doors things are not what they seem. It's a fairy tale. I found out the hard way that their happy marriage was anything but."

"You can't lump marriage altogether because your parents didn't have the best one," Rachel says. "Just because you witnessed an unhappy marriage doesn't mean that every marriage is the same, it doesn't mean that if you get married your marriage will be unhappy."

"You can't know that."

"And neither can you." She takes a step towards me; obviously hesitant after the last time she tried to touch me. "What are you really scared of?"

"What?"

"I understand everything you've said, I understand that you don't want to be dependent on somebody because the last people you were dependent on let you down but there's something else that's frightening you, something else that is stopping you from having a relationship."

"There's not…" She raises her eyebrows at her and I concede. "What if I'm like my dad?"

"You're not."

"You don't know that Rachel." I run my fingers through my hair rapidly. "My mom was a trophy wife for my dad; I can't honestly say whether he loved her. I mean if he was willing to cheat on her repeatedly he can't have. What if I have a relationship and cheat like he did? I don't want to hurt somebody like he hurt my mom."

"So you don't let yourself commit to somebody because you don't want to hurt them?" She asks as she runs her hand up and down my arm in a soothing fashion. "Quinn don't be ridiculous. You can't put your life on hold because you're worried. I think the fact that you don't want to hurt somebody means that you wouldn't. You hate your dad for what he did but you'd hate yourself even more if you did the same." She smiles warmly at me. "You don't need to be scared Quinn; you just need to give a relationship a chance."

I sigh heavily. "I don't know how to be with somebody else Rach, I don't know how to look after somebody else," I confess. "I've been living alone for ten years; I don't know how to let anybody in."

Rachel grabs my hand and entwines our fingers. "That's not true. You're letting me in right now," she states. "Besides, we've known each other for two months and Quinn; you are one of the sweetest people I've ever met," she says. "You know when you're not pushing me away," she adds playfully.

"Sweet? I don't think anybody's ever called me sweet before."

"Well I'm glad I could be the first." She nods. "Do you know something? Anybody would be lucky to have you as their girlfriend."

"Even you?"

Rachel doesn't flinch at my question. "If you were my girlfriend, I would cherish every moment with you. You have no idea how truly amazing you are do you?"

I take a step away from her, breaking her hold on my hand. "I'm not amazing. I snapped at you last night because I couldn't just admit I was jealous."

Her tongue darts out briefly to lick her lips. "Stop putting yourself down."

"Why not? Let's be honest Rachel, I'm not girlfriend material."

"Stop making up excuses. I think you know how to be in a relationship, I just think you're scared of letting yourself be in one," she says calmly. "You use what happened with your parents as an excuse because you're scared of being dependent on somebody after your parents let you down."

"Don't psychoanalyse me."

"Don't do that Quinn, don't shut down," she pleads. "You had a rough time growing up and I'm not surprised that you have issues but you can't blame your past forever. You are amazing Quinn, if you let yourself have a relationship, then I think you'd surprise yourself at how much you like having somebody in your life." I can't help but think that Rachel is right, I mean, Rachel is the first person that I've truly let in and I can't imagine not having her in my life. "I think you'll find that somebody could easily fall in love with you if you just give them a chance."

I'm silent for quite some time allowing her words to sink her. "Could you?"

"Could I what?"

"Fall in love with me," I say quietly, almost afraid to hear the answer. I'm pretty confident that I'm in love with her but if she says that she couldn't love me then I don't think I could take it.

My eyes involuntarily close when she doesn't answer. I don't want to look her as she says no but the word no doesn't fall from her lips. "Yes," she says firmly.

I open my eyes just in time to see her wrap her arms around my neck as she pulls me into a hug. I lose myself in her comfort, in her scent, just in her. I tighten my hold on her, not wanting this moment to end.


Rachel:

I can feel her hold on me tighten as she nuzzles her face into my neck. I've learnt that when Quinn tightens her hold it means she doesn't want to let me go but I don't plan on going anywhere. Her question about whether I could fall in love with her lingers in the back of my mind as I bury my head into the crook of her neck.

"I think I already have."

She doesn't hear my confession but I didn't want her to.

It's not the right time yet.

For now, I'm quite content to just stay in her arms.