She just wanted to talk. Honestly. When she stepped on that plane to get to him, all she had wanted to do was talk. She wanted to ask him everything. The what, the how, the why. She wanted him to explain every single detail. Rachel had been in a daze the whole day after his drunken phone call, two separate entities of her subconscious warring against each other. The rational part of herself told her to not be a fool, that if he really meant what he said, he would come groveling at her feet, begging her to take him back. But the other part of herself, the part still irrevocably attached to him, had argued that she was a strong, independent woman. Why did she feel the need to restrict herself in such a medieval manner and wait for the man to make the move?
When Al visited the day after that to find her still in her pajamas at noon and the dark rings around her eyes, he had forced the truth out of her. Go, he urged. Don't let your pride get in the way of being happy Rachel Berry. And if there was one person whose judgement she trusted, it was that of her bestfriend. And that was how she found herself on the first flight out to get to him, the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach morphing into huge, clawing mutants the closer she got.
His R.A. had let her in, recognizing her from Little Shop of Horrors which he had been dragged to on a visit to see his girlfriend.
"You're the girl that got eaten by that huge-ass mutant plant!" he said excitedly, after she had stopped him to ask if he knew who Finn Hudson was. "That was a tough break. You were hot."
"Thank you very much," she answered, smiling at him sweetly. It was her very first fan encounter and she was determined to be gracious, even if all she really wanted was to see Finn as soon as possible. He had shown her to Finn's room and when they both realized he wasn't in, had proceeded to unlock the door for her with his spare key. Eternally grateful, she had thanked him profusely until he waved her off in embarrassment.
She made a beeline for his side of the room, knowing immediately which one it was because it was the messy side. Rachel sat on the bed and waited. And waited some more. After almost half an hour, she began to feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was a bad idea. Maybe it was a very, very bad idea. Maybe she should just leave soon and put everything behind her and just go along her merry way (Except that the way was so not merry).
She looked up from the stripes of his bedsheet and her eye caught something on his desk. It was pinned on the board, hidden underneath layers of class schedules, pizza coupons and college ads. But she could see the the edge of what looked like a photo peeking out. As if without any conscious thought, she had immediately stood up and curiously walked over to his desk to get a better look. Her hand stalled for a few second as it dawned on her that she could suddenly come face to face with Mary-Beth Stevenson and wouldn't be able to be held accountable if that photo ended up on the floor, torn to shreds. Closing her eyes tightly, she had pulled back the rest of the papers. Rachel blinked open her left eye slowly.
Her hand shook as she realized that she was staring back into her own eyes. They were shining happily. Her lips were stretched open in laughter and her hair was all over her face. Rachel could remember clearly the morning this photo was taken. It was the weekend after their second 'Temporary Purgotary' where he had driven for hours to New York City in his almost dying, brand new, second-hand car. And it had been the most wonderful weekend that she could ever remember because it was two whole days of being alone with him after months of not seeing each other, and it was two days of just being together and being happy.
The morning he was supposed to head back to college, she had woken up at five in a glum state and stared at his sleeping figure for an hour, wondering how long it would be this time before they could be together again. She sighed when he had turned on his back, his arm vacating its position on her torso. She laid her head on his chest, turning it to the side so that her ear would be right next to the sound of his heartbeat and promptly fell back to sleep. She had blinked her eyes open hours later at the sound of his chuckle to find her polaroid in her face and his crooked grin plastered on his as he snapped a photo of her bleary expression.
"Finn!" she had whined when she realized what was happening and immediately pulled the comforter up over her face. She could hear his laughter as he tried to tug it away. She held on stubbornly. She felt a little dissapointed when she couldn't feel his weight on the mattress anymore and almost peeked out of the covers. But suddenly, he was burrowing his way under the comforter from his side of the bed. He grinned mischievously at her.
"Good morning," he greeted softly, as his face and body loomed over hers underneath the sheets.
"That wasn't a very nice way to wake up," she said, pretending to pout.
"I'm just helping you get ready for the celebrity life Rach," he teased. She grinned and propped her head up to kiss him. She didn't realize he was still holding the stupid camera until she heard the click of the polaroid.
"Finn!" His laughter shook the bed as he crowed in satisfaction and pushed the sheets away from them. "I can't believe you just did that," she complained. "I look stupid."
"No you don't. You look great. See?" He pointed to a dozen pictures of her sleeping figure strewn all over the bed. Rachel rolled her eyes, picking them up to see. They weren't that bad. She looked almost peaceful when she slept. Still. Finn was looking at his masterpieces proudly, the polaroid dangling in his right hand. Siezing her chance, she had swiped the camera away from his idle fingers.
"Hey!" he yelped, startled. She quickly snapped the photo. An image of Finn with a surprised expression on his face developed. She shook the picture and dangled it in front of him.
"Hah!"
"Now that is a stupid look," he commented dryly before he pounced on her, trying to steal the camera back. She held on to it resolutely, turning her body to protect it away from his prying hands. Until his fingers began to tickle her ribs.
"No!" she squealed as she succumbed to a fit of the giggles, his fingers still roaming over all of her ticklish spots. "Truce!" she yelled between giggles. "Truce!" Her hold on the camera weaned and he reached for it, one hand still on her side before he promptly snapped her picture.
As she remembered how she felt that day, it was like an epiphany to realize that no, that kind of happiness couldn't happen with just anyone.
He still had her picture in his room. What did that mean? She decided to take it as a sign that she should stay. Looking behind her covertly, she continued her investigation on his things. There was a year between them and there was a lot she didn't know. Rachel was dissapointed to realize that the rest of the mess on his desk were just that. A mess. She rolled her eyes as she held up two crushed beer cans that had made their way on to the floor under his desk.
Five minutes later and she realized she was straightening up his room. Rachel quickly dropped the handful of stationary she was holding back on to the table. What in the world was she doing? They hadn't even seen each other and she was already cleaning up after him and muttering under her breath like a nagging wife. She looked nervously at the table that already looked halfway decent. Maybe she should mess it up again. But that would be stupid. She shook her head and decided to sit back down at the edge of his bed and just not move until he came back.
Ten minutes later, she fidgeted restlessly. He was taking forever. Where was he anyway? It annoyed her to realize that once again, there she was, waiting around for Finn Hudson. Less than five seconds later, the door to his room seemed to burst open and she squealed in surprise as she heard a loud yell. 'I have a rape whistle!' she prepared to scream. But she had looked up and her voice just seemed to have died somewhere in her throat.
Because Finn Hudson was standing in front of her, his mouth hung open in mid-scream. He looked like he just saw a ghost as his hands hung limply by his side. He was just right there. All 6'3 of him. Rachel stood up immediately, unsure of what to do or what to say. She must have stood up too quickly however, because she lost her balance right after and tripped on her feet. As she pitched forward, she couldn't help the wry thought that went through her head because there she was, falling over him. Just like always. Two strong hands caught her by the arms to steady her. They both seemed to be startled by the contact and jumped, her head colliding with his hard chest. She backed off immediately, feeling like an idiot.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to fall. I mean of course I didn't. Who means to fall, right? I mean I didn't mean to hit you with my head. I mean- Did I hurt you? I..." Her words trailed away as she realized she wasn't making any sense. He was still staring at her in bewilderment. He was probably wondering what she was doing in his room. She knew she needed to say something. But Rachel just couldn't seem to find her words. The only thing that was running through her brain at that moment was It'sFinn!It'sFinn!It'sFinn!It'sFinn!, making it hard for her to string together an actual coherent sentence. She looked away, trying to collect herself. She took a deep breath.
"I- I-" she stammered nervously. "Your R.A. let me in. Hank, was it? He was very nice and said that it was okay for me to wait here. You don't mind, do you? I apologize if it seems like I've broken in. I assure you that wasn't my intention. I-" What was she even talking about? She took another deep breath and tried again.
"You called me, two days ago," she said slowly. "I don't really know what I'm doing here. It's just- you asked me to come, right?" She hoped to God he hadn't been drunk enough to forget their conversation. Some spark of recognition seemed to fill his eyes and she almost cried in relief. Finn was still standing in the doorway like a statue and things were getting awkward. Fast. His familiar scent seemed to attack her senses, making it even harder for her to think. She looked down at her hands.
"I feel like we have things to discuss, things that needed to be said. I believe you might be thinking the same thing also. Right? You told me you wanted me to come. So... here I am" She attempted a dazzling smile but it failed miserably when she saw his expression. Rachel could feel her hands starting to get clammy and that sinking feeling in her chest when she knew dissapoinment was coming. "I- you remember. Don't you?" The look on his face said it all. He looked so lost and confused by her words. It was the same look that was always plastered on his face when they were teenagers and he couldn't comprehend the things she said. Rachel felt her heart drop to the bottom of her feet.
He didn't remember. He didn't remember anything. She was such a stupid fool. She could feel the tears prickling the back of her eyes and forced herself to push them away. She shook her head and looked at him in resolution.
"I'm sorry," she said curtly, holding her emotions in check. "You were drunk. Of course you didn't mean it. What was I thinking?" Happiness her foot. She didn't fly all the way to him to find happiness. She flew all the way to give him her heart and watch as he trampled on it all over again. "I'm going to kill Al," she muttered under her breath, momentarily forgetting that Finn was standing right in front of her. He still wasn't saying anything. Rachel could feel the anoyance build up inside her. The least he could do was say something. God she was an idiot!
"I apologize for barging into your life like this," she said, trying her best to keep her tone steady. She picked up her duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder as she moved towads the door. "I know you must think that I'm an idiot for coming over here after some drunken conversation you can't even remember. I'm leaving now and will be out of your life in five seconds. We'll just both try to forget this humiliating encounter ever happened." Don'tcrydon'tcrydon'tcry. She held her breath as she walked past him, trying to push the memory of his smell out of her head.
"No!" she heard him yell in a strangled voice and suddenly he was grabbing her shoulders and pulling her back inside. She looked up at him. The desperate expression on his face startled her, and Rachel allowed just a smidgeon of hope to enter her heart. "I meant them," he said urgently, his death grip almost crushing her shoulders. Rachel winced painfully as he squeezed harder. "Every single word. I meant them."
"You don't even know what you said," she replied softly, her voice quivering.
"But you're here," was his quick reply, his eyes roaming crazily over her face. "So I must have said something right. Because whatever it is I said, you're here. You're here. Just because I can't remember," he said gently, his gaze burning into hers. "It doesn't mean they weren't true." She couldn't help the hope that was growing in her chest. She really couldn't. She looked up at him. He was staring at her in that way she had missed so much, like he could never get enough of her. Where were they supposed to go from here?
He pulled her hard towards him and she gasped in surprise as she lost her balance. Rachel splayed her hands onto his chest to steady herself and found that she was trapped in his arms. His smell was intoxicating, the heat from his body driving her insane in a torturously good way.
When his lips had crashed onto hers, she held on to his shirt helplessly.
The kiss stole her breath away. Literally, she felt her breath hitch against her throat as he slanted his lips over hers and plunged his tongue into her mouth. She felt dizzy, like she could faint at any moment. It was wrong to let him. She knew. But it was so familiar and it felt so good and there was a picture of her on his board and all she wanted was to just let herself get lost in the feel of his touch.
It seemed like he wanted the same thing because he had picked her up easily and backed her into the door, effectively closing it. His weight pinned her to the wood and she moaned as she felt one hand slip under her shirt and splayed itself against her stomach, the heat burning her. They were moving fast. They were moving really, really fast. She pulled on his shirt, trying to pull him in even closer, wanting to feel every inch of his body close in on hers. His hand was squeezing against her side and she turned her head away to gasp in a lungful of air. His lips fell on her jaw as he peppered hot, open-mouthed kisses all over jaw and her ear and the nape of her neck. She moaned again when he nipped lightly at her pulse point. Her lips found a new home on his collarbone.
She felt him freeze as his hand fell from her waist. He pulled away. She looked up into his eyes, still in a daze, still caught up by the kiss. Finn was looking down at her in surprise, like he only then realized what he had just done. She could practically see the guilt settling in his eyes. Rachel felt a burning anger scorching her insides. He was not going to ruin this moment for them. Not this time. She grabbed the back of his head with one hand and glared at him.
"Don't you dare pull away," she whispered furiously as she pulled him down and crashed their lips together again.
They crashed on to his bed in a messy tangle of limbs and half-opened clothes. She clawed at his back desperately, pulling his shirt along. His hands left her body for a few seconds as he took off the offending garment. They returned to her waist and she felt her toes curl as he panted roughly against her ear, the hot air filling her senses and clouding her mind.
It was rough, and it was quick.
Rachel felt the hot tears spilling down her face as their bodies fell into place and held on to him as tightly as she possibly could.
She had rolled away from him when it was over, trying to get as far away from him as possible. Considering the size of his bed, she didn't get very far. Rachel could still feel his body barely touching hers, the heat inducing a fresh set of tears to spill out of her. She knew he was staring at her and she was painfully aware that they were both naked and that it was the worst possible situation to be in when a girl was trying to hide her soul.
They had been silent for almost twenty minutes. His stare was burning a hole in the back of her head. She wondered if it was as hard for him to keep his hands to himself as it was for her. She knew that in a stable and normal relationship, people talked things out first before jumping into bed together. She wondered if they had always been so dysfunctional.
"Rachel." The soft way he called her name twisted her heart and she wondered why it was that the only boy who could fix her battered heart was the same one who bruised it in the first place.
"There's a picture of me," she wispered, ignoring him as she pointed to his desk. "Over there. How long has it been there?" He shuffled on the bed and their elbows touched, sending a current of sparks flowing straight through her whole body.
"I-" he began awkwardly. "It's always been there. I never took it down." She forced her tears away. She was so sick of them.
"Why?" She heard him inhale a lungful of air and waited for his answer.
"I couldn't. I tried. I just- I couldn't put you away. I didn't want to." Rachel felt the anger that was simmering below her skin push its way out onto the surface. She stood up abruptly and yanked her discarded shirt off the floor to put it back on. She turned to look for her underwear, trying to reign her emotions in. Where the hell was it?
"Rach," he called softly from the bed. Nobody else ever called her that. She never allowed anybody else to call her that. It made her livid to hear it come out of his mouth and to realize just how much she had missed it. From the corner of her eye, she saw him sit up. Rachel ignored him as she spied her underwear sitting primly on his roommate's pillow. She stalked over to snatch it up, feeling apologetic towards Tom who would probably be disgusted to know he would be resting his head on where her panties had been carelessly thrown.
"Rachel would you look at me. Please?" She complied and looked at him, her hands on her hips. He was staring back at her solemnly, almost as if he was afraid of how she would react. He should be.
"You couldn't?" she asked quietly. Finn shook his head.
"No." That was all she needed. Calmly, she walked towards him and sat on his bed. Raising her right hand, she slapped him with all of the strength she could muster.
It surprised her that he didn't even flinch.
"You couldn't?" she asked furiously. "You dumped me and you couldn't bring yourself to take my picture down?" Rachel knew that tears were streaming down her face but she couldn't be bothered to wipe them away. Why was he so stupid? "What did you think it would be easy for me? Did you think it would be easy for me to forget you?"
"I-"
"No. I'm not done. You left me Finn. You left me. It doesn't matter if you thought it was for the best. How could you leave me? You promised forever. Remember? Were those just words to you?"
"No." She ignored his firm tone.
"Did you think you were so easy to forget?" she asked, her tone coming off as a yell. "That if you left me, I could just pick myself up and be fine? How could you be so thoughtless?" She was outright sobbing by then, her hands in fists as she punched him in the chest over and over.
She wanted him to hurt. She wanted him to physically hurt.
"God! You're such a jerk! You could keep on loving me but I couldn't do the same? You can keep my pictures and you can keep my heart but I had to give yours back? What the hell were you thinking?"
Her punches were getting weak and pathetic and he had grabbed her hands roughly and pulled her against him. She fought against him and tried to pull away but she knew that it was pointless. She wanted his arms around her. She was pathetic. He held her tightly as she cried, one of his hands repeatedly smoothing down her hair. He had tucked her head under his. Her ears were pressed against his chest and she listened as his heart seemed to beat irregularly. They must have stayed in that position for hours. Or maybe it was just minutes. She couldn't tell. As her sobs died down and turned into small hiccups, she felt his jaw move against her head.
"I thought I couldn't make it," he whispered. She felt his words reverberate against her skull. "I thought I couldn't get to New York. It felt like I was going to be stuck in Lima forever." His hold on her had loosened and it gave her room to punch his chest again. Hard.
"How many times do I have to tell you that you will?" she asked angrily.
"But what if I don't? What if I really couldn't? What if I failed?"
"I-"
"What's your biggest dream Rachel?" he asked softly.
"I-"
"It's Broadway," he said softly, tightening his hold around her. "It's singing and acting and being a performer. It's what you've always wanted. And I thought I couldn't make it. I thought I couldn't follow you."
"So you decided it would be better to just break my heart and get it over with? Better mine than yours, right?" she asked sarcastically, squirming angrily in his embrace.
"What would you have done Rach?" he asked, ignoring her jab.
"I wouldn't have stomped on your heart," she answered obstinately, wrapping her arms around herself. "I loved you. So much that it hurt. Did you really think so little of me? Did you really think I would just go chase after my dream without so much as a backward glance? Am I really that selfish?"
"No."
"Then what were you trying to do Finn?" she asked impatiently, finally breaking away from his embrace. She turned around to face him, her eyes flashing. His calmness infuriated her.
"You're not. That's the whole point."
"What's the whole point?" He looked away from her and sighed, running his hand through his disheveled hair.
"I knew how much you loved me. I knew you would have done anything for me. And I was so afraid of not being good enough for you. I didn't want you to be stuck with me because you loved me. Because that's what would have happened Rachel. If I failed to make something out of myself, I knew you wouldn't leave. If you had to choose between me and your dreams, I- I didn't want you to make the wrong choice." She stood at the edge of his bed, her body shaking with fury and frustration because his misguided attempt to be noble had came at their expense.
"So you made it for me? Thank you so much Finn for making such an incredibly hard decision about my life for me. Should I be eternally grateful? Bow down to you in gratitude?"
"I'm sorry! But I just- Rachel I thought about it and just the thought- I couldn't live with myself." His expression was so earnest and open and she knew he was telling the truth. It didn't stop her from wanting to wipe it off his face.
"You can dress it up however beautifully you want to Finn. In the end it all came down to just you being a huge coward and breaking my heart." Her voice broke at the last word and he had immediately left the bed to get to her. He enveloped her in a bear hug and she knew she was two seconds away from another breakdown.
"I know," he mumbled against her hair. "I know. I fucked up Rachel. I thought it was for the best and then I realized that my life without you just really, really sucked. But it was too late. And you found someone else. And I-"
"I d-d-didn't find someone else," she muttered through her hiccups. "I found a distraction."
"I couldn't go back Rachel. Not until I changed. Don't you get it? I was stuck. I was in this place where I felt like I was going to be a loser for the rest of my life. And I couldn't go back to you. Not until I got out of that rut. Because then things will just end up being the same. I needed to fix me before I could be with you. I needed to know that I could be better. I needed to be someone who didn't feel like such a dick most of the time. I needed to be someone "
"You've always been someone to me," she said hoarsely.
"I know," he said, kissing the top of her head. "I needed to make sure you weren't mistaken."
"And did you?" she asked curiously.
"I- Yeah," he answered, his voice registering surprise. "Yeah. I think I did."
"I hate you," she said quietly, as she finally moved her arms from her sides to snake around his waist. She pulled him tighter against her, her tears soaking up the fabric of his shirt. "I hate you. I hate you so much."
He whispered I'm sorry, over and over against her hair, his grip around her vice-like. And she hated the feeling that washed over her. Like she was finally home.
XXX
They spent probably another two hours with her taking out all of her frustrations on him physically. She slapped, punched, kicked and yelled to best of her ability. It was a wonder how no one had knocked on his door to ask what was wrong. He let her do whatever she wanted, saying that she could hit him all she wanted to, just as long as she didn't leave. She had absolutely no intention of doing so. Their unconventional reunion was cut short when his roommate began knocking incessantly on his door, yelling for him to open the hell up.
He had groaned in frustration and moved towards the door. She checked her appearence to make sure she was presentable. Tom had whined the moment the door opened about Finn taking his fucking time but stopped when he saw her. His scrutiny made her uncomfortable. His appearance was rather alarming in Rachel's opinion. He had a scraggly beard and thick, round glasses. Actually, she couldn't really tell what he looked like. But she could tell he was surprised to see her.
"Hey. You're-"
"We're busy," Finn had cut in through gritted teeth. His face seemed to register some sort of realization because he had immediately walked in to retrieve his wallet and left, grinning at her and saluting the both of them.
"Does he know me?" she asked in bemusement.
"He's seen your photo."
"Oh." She wondered why he looked so uncomfortable.
He had driven her to the nearest motel to check in because in her haste to get to his dorm room, she had forgotten that she might need a place to stay. He stopped at Starbucks on the way to get them breakfast. He left the chainstore with an espresso in hand and her eyebrows went up all the way into her hair.
"Coffee?" she asked, half-amused and half-disbelieving. He shrugged as he took a sip.
"I don't sleep well these days," he answered simply.
"Since when?" she asked incredulously. Finn was the heaviest sleeper she knew.
"Since about a year ago," was his short answer.
"Oh."
"Yeah. The coffee helps me focus. Weird, right? I mostly drink it when I study. But I didn't sleep at all yesterday so I need this if we don't want to end up crashing into a tree."
"I barely know you anymore," she said, shaking her head. He used to gag at even the smell of coffee. She felt panic rise within her at the thought of them being strangers and not knowing who the other person was. But he had rested a hand on hers and when she looked up, had given her one of his reassuring smiles and she knew he knew exactly what she was thinking.
"It's just coffee," he said softly. Rachel felt herself relax and leaned back in her seat. She fell asleep along the way and was startled to see him when he shook her awake, the events from the hours before still missing from her brain. He helped her settle in and got her to the front door. She grabbed his wrist as he turned to leave.
"Wait." She needed to know. "The flowers, those stargazers. It was you, wasn't it." He looked at her bashfully and smiled.
"They reminded me of you."
"I knew it," she whispered, letting go of his hand. They stood awkwardly in front of each other and she wondered if he was about to kiss her. He didn't. His face turned red and he had muttered a See you and turned to leave. Rachel snorted as she closed the door. Since when were they teenagers again?
He came back eight hours later, freshly showered and bearing food. He swooped down to kiss her the moment she opened the door and took her by surprise.
"I forgot this earlier," he mumbled against her lips. His bag of Chinese take-out fell to the floor as she pulled him in and it laid there forgotten until hours later.
XXX
She was supposed to return to New York two days later. On the day itself, she had woken up in a cranky state, wondering just why in the heck had she bought such an early flight in the first place. He wasn't there. They didn't do sleepovers. Her bag was already packed and so she really had nothing to do for the next three hours.
She was ready two hours before she was supposed to be. Which was a good thing because he came by two hours before he was supposed to. He took her to breakfast at his favorite diner. Apparently, the feeling was mutual because every waitress there knew his name. They knew hers too. They had squealed the moment he told them who she was. She wasn't expecting that.
It was as they were driving towards the airport when he suddenly drove towards the shoulder of the road and stopped the car.
"Stay," he pleaded as he held her hand. She had looked at him in surprise.
"But my flight is today," she answered stupidly.
"Miss it."
"But I-"
"I'm almost done packing," he said urgently. "Just another week and we'll drive down to New York. Together." Her heart was beating wildly against her chest. They agreed to take it slow. It didn't seem like they were doing a good job at it thus far.
"I can't keep sleeping in that motel. I don't exactly have the budget for that."
"Tom's leaving tomorrow. He's going on some trip with his hippie friends. I can make him leave tonight if you'll just say yes. C'mon Rach," he pled softly. "Say yes." She looked at him then, her gaze searching his features. He was staring at her hopefully, his eyes wide and pleading. The smile grew on her face before she could stop herself. She could see him relax as it turned into a full blown beam.
"Yes."
XXX
He has a copy of Funny Girl. Right in between Speed and Die Hard 4.0. Finn had turned the car around and taken her back to his dorm immediately the moment she agreed to stay. She found it as she rifled through the small shelf next to his bed while he was in the bathroom. Rachel held it up when he walked in, trying her best to keep a straight face.
"Funny Girl?" she asked. His face turned red and he laughed ruefully.
"Found it at Blockbuster a month after we broke up," he answered, sitting down next to her on the bed.
"I thought you said the movie was depressing. "
"It is. But it reminded me of you. At least it was something, you know?" She grinned at his embarrassed smile and kissed his cheek softly.
"How many times did you watch it?"
"Fifty seven," he said without missing a beat. She stared at him in surprise. "Yeah. Me too," he said wryly at the dumbfounded look on her face.
XXX
He told her she could have Tom's bed. Because they were taking things slow. He had washed a sheet for her and helped her set up the bed. He gave her his pillow. The first night had been weird because she was painfully aware of his body in the same room as her in the dark. The second night, Rachel decided she was done taking things slow. She crept silently in the darkness, counting the steps to his bed and slipped next to him quietly. She felt him jump as her weight moved the mattress.
"Who's Mary-Beth Stevenson?" she asked in a whisper, wrapping one arm over his torso. His back was facing her. She brushed her face against his shoulder blade.
"She was a junior," he answered, his voice amused. "A very eager junior."
"And was she really all that hot?"
"Oh yeah." Rachel tightened her arm around his waist in annoyance and huffed.
"Well did you get lucky?"
"Are you jealous?"
"Are you avoiding the question?" He chuckled and wrapped a hand around her wrist.
"I could have."
"Did you?" He turned to face her and scooted down until she felt his breath on her cheeks.
"No." Rachel smiled and leaned forward to catch his lips.
"Good."
XXX
Five days later, she was helping him clear out his drawer. Finn was on the floor, taping up all of his boxes. She was on her second trashbag as she grabbed a handful of paper and threw it into the black plastic bag. She almost missed it. Her eye caught the familiar looking sheet as she grabbed at it. She almost dropped the trashbag when she realized it was the program for West Side Story. She picked it up gently and read the words she had so carefully printed on the cover.
To my biggest and best fan in the whole world.
Love,
Rachel Barbara Berry
The lipstick mark she had jokingly left on top of her gold star was fading. She gripped the program tightly in her hand, tears welling up in her eyes.
"What's this?" she asked softly.
"Huh?" he asked distractedly from the floor.
"This." He looked up and there was a second where his face seemed to register panic. But it quickly faded away as he stood up and walked over towards her.
"You weren't supposed to see that," he said ruefully, taking it away from her hand.
"This was for you?"
"I made him do it. I should have been there. But I wasn't. So.."
"So you had Al pretend to get my autograph instead?"
"I needed something to remember the role that's going to catapult you into stardom," he answered, only half-teasing.
"He recorded that show. It was-"
"For me, yeah. From the front row, center stage. It was the next best thing. He's a cool dude."
"Very cool," she agreed, smiling as the tears leaked out of her eyes. He brushed them away with the pad of his thumb as he stared at her with that perpetual, loving expression on his face. It was like they passed through some sort of new phase. She felt it acutely. She looked up at him, every bone in her body telling her that she was ready, that it was the right moment.
"I love you." The exultant smile on his face almost killed her erratic heart.
"I love you too," he replied softly as he cupped her face in his hand and leaned down to kiss her sweetly on her lips. They both stayed that way for a moment, lips touching softly, before he moved his upwards to rest on her forehead. She closed her eyes and reveled in the feel of it.
"So," she began conversationally as he pulled back. "About that video. Care for another showing? You know, to make an in-depth analysis?" His laughter filled her heart with unbridled joy. It was the most beautiful sound Rachel had ever heard.
"You bet."