Chapter Twelve
"Quinn?"
"Good morning, Sir."
Hiram's smile is genuine as it spreads across his face. "Are you ever going to call me Hiram?"
Quinn shrugs. "I don't know," she says. "I haven't yet decided."
Hiram chuckles lightly, finding the girl more and more endearing every time they talk. "Would you care to take a walk with me?"
Quinn regards him carefully. "Is this a poor attempt at disguising your intent to question me about my feelings regarding what happened last night?"
This time, he laughs openly. "Something like that, yes."
Once again, Quinn shrugs, bowing her head slightly. "Then, sure, we can walk."
Hiram gestures with his left arm, and Quinn gets them moving at a steady, comfortable pace as they leave the safety of the house and start on their way. It's quiet and the sound of their footfalls is almost soothing... until Hiram speaks.
"You were out quite late last night," he starts, and Quinn remains silent. "I think there was a part of Rachel that was convinced you wouldn't come back."
"Where was I going to go?" Quinn asks, trying to joke and failing miserably.
"I don't know, Quinn," he says; "where were you going to go?"
Quinn licks her lips, but doesn't respond. She did go for a walk, stopping by the barn to rinse her mouth and splash her face. And then, instead of turning back to go to the house, she just kept on walking. She probably wouldn't have stopped if she hadn't tripped over a vine and landed on her knees, scratching the skin.
That was why she wore jeans instead of dresses, dammit.
Quinn can still feel the skin pulling as she walks. It's unpleasant but it doesn't hurt anymore.
If Quinn thought anyone would allow her to ignore anything that happened last night, she's severely mistaken. The Holt-Berry - Berry-Holt? - clan talk about things, apparently. They're so very different to her own family, all of whom she's sure have never discussed any of the events leading up to Grandmother Lucille's death.
Or, anything else, really.
Hiram clears his throat. "I should apologise for last night," he begins. "While a lot of my family shares Jared's view on your father's politics, it was uncalled for and unfair to you to attack you that way. So, I'm sorry, Quinn. It was never my intention to have you feel anything less than welcome in our home."
Quinn isn't sure what to say to him, so she remains silent. It's more than she was expecting, but she's not surprised. This family is kind.
Well, most of them are, anyway.
"It's okay," she eventually says.
"Is it?"
"I don't know," she confesses. "I'm shielded from a lot of it when I'm at school. I'm supposed to be one of his supporters, and I guess I'm still young enough not to be hounded by people who hate him. I assume that'll change when I'm older."
But, by then, she hopes she'll be out, and she won't care what her father or anybody else thinks.
She just needs to hold on a little longer.
Hiram takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. "Regardless of that," he says; "it still should never have happened."
Quinn just nods, and they continue on their walk in silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts. It would be comfortable if Quinn couldn't sense there's something more the man wants to say to her.
So, she waits.
"There is actually one other thing I wanted to talk to you about," Hiram eventually says, still debating with himself over whether this is a good idea or not.
When Quinn looks at him expectantly, he makes the decision.
"I assume you know Rachel likes you," Hiram says, his tone flat and his expression blank.
"I like her too," Quinn automatically says, even though she knows he means the different kind of 'like.'
"She like likes you," he clarifies anyway.
Quinn says nothing. As far as any of them knows, she's incapable of reciprocating, and she intends to keep it that way for as long as possible.
The only person who knows she likes girls at all is Tori, and Quinn knows the woman will take that secret to her grave. They both have too much to lose from something like that ever being revealed in their respective circles.
So, it's not a truth Quinn would willingly hand out to a man she just met, even if he's halfway responsible for giving her the wonderful human being that is Rachel Berry.
"Unfortunately, Rachel's never been very good at hiding her feelings," he continues. "She wears her heart on her sleeve in all the best ways, Quinn, but she's been burned by it a few too many times."
Quinn hums in response, because she can see that.
"I never want her to get hurt again."
She glances at him. "Are you telling me that because you expect me to hurt her?"
"Isn't it inevitable?" he questions mildly. "She likes you and, if I know her, she's going to end up telling you one day, and that day is going to hurt her."
Quinn swallows audibly. She's hoping that elusive 'one day' takes forever to come because she's definitely not ready for it.
Her heart might be, but everything else isn't.
She needs to get out first.
Rachel entered her life too early.
"But it'll be what she needs," Hiram goes on, his assumptions about Quinn's feelings on the matter propelling him forward. "So, this is what I ask of you, Quinn," he says. "Be gentle with her. Be kind and clear. She will hold onto anything, and I know you don't want that for her."
"No, I don't," she agrees quietly.
"Will you do this for me, Quinn?" he asks. "Will you be gentle? She's already hurt enough in this life."
Quinn feels tears pool in her eyes. "Of course, Sir," she says, soft and strong. "Of course, Hiram."
"Are we going to talk about it?"
Quinn is dedicating too much brain power towards trying not to freak out about the fact she's back on a train to be irritated with Rachel's question. The very last thing she wants is to talk, and Rachel must know that.
Rachel sighs, her fingers automatically linking with Quinn's. "Would you like me to sing to you?" she asks softly, noting the blonde's clenched jaw and tightly shut eyes.
"Please," Quinn whispers.
"Any requests?"
"Surprise me."
Rachel hums in thought as she searches her considerable mental musical catalogue for a suitable song. In the end, she decides on Cover Your Tracks, which she's managed to memorise, and it immediately calms Quinn. The trembling stops and the tension in her muscles dissipates until even Rachel can feel the relief.
She sings on a loop, the words passing over her lips and straight into Quinn's ears.
Eventually, Quinn sighs in content. "You know, if that song wasn't already one of my favourites, it would be now," she says, her tone a little forced.
"Thank you, Quinn," she says. Then, never one to get distracted, she immediately asks, "Now, are we going to talk about it?"
Quinn clears her throat. "What are we supposed to talk about?"
Rachel angles her body to face her. "Well, there's a lot to talk about regarding last night," she says; "but I'm more interested in what you and my dad talked about on your walk this morning."
Quinn licks her lips, which is an action Rachel can't help staring at. "What makes you think we were talking about anything?"
"Quinn, are you being intentionally obtuse?"
"I am, yes."
"What did you talk about?"
"Rachel," she huffs.
"I know you talked about something because you didn't look the same when you got back," she says. "Quinn, what did he say to you?"
Quinn doesn't respond. She's unsure what she's supposed to say because she's still feeling conflicted. If Hiram's right, then Rachel is going to tell her something very important, and Quinn is expected to say something.
Whatever she says, it's going to hurt Rachel.
That much is already known.
She can say no, or she can say yes, and force them to keep it hidden.
Be gentle.
Rachel deserves more than Quinn's troubles and her conflicted mind.
She deserves more.
"Was it bad?" Rachel asks, suddenly sounding smaller than Quinn has ever heard her. "Because, you know, I want you to come back, and I - "
Quinn squeezes her fingers to silence her. "We talked a bit about last night," she says. "He apologised for your uncle, and then assured me not everyone in the family believes I'm anything like my father."
"Good," she huffs.
"And then we talked a little about you."
Rachel sucks in a breath. "Oh?"
"He loves you very much, Rachel," she says.
"I know he does," she replies, sighing. "I've never doubted that."
"Haven't you?"
She sighs. "I don't know," she confesses. "Maybe. A long time ago. During the divorce, and after he moved. He left, and I suppose there was a part of me that believed he left because of me."
"But, you know better now, don't you?"
"I think I understand a hell of a lot more about life and love now," she says. "I think experience has taught me a lot. It can be a brutal teacher."
Quinn raises her eyebrows. "C.S. Lewis?"
She offers a small smile. "Sometimes, I forget you're so darn smart."
Quinn shrugs in response.
"Are you okay, though?" she questions. "Are we okay?"
With another squeeze to her fingers, Quinn meets Rachel's gaze. "We're okay," she assures her. "We do have a few things to talk about, but I don't see the point in rushing. I'm not going anywhere."
"Good," she replies; "because neither am I."
"You know, Quinn," Rachel says; "you're kind of cute when you're high."
Quinn pouts adorably. "I am not high," she declares, a slight whine in her voice. "Just, a little loopy."
"Still cute."
With a shake of her head, she shuffles across the corridor to her own bedroom now that they've finally reached the fourth floor. "I'm going to unpack now," she says.
"And then nap?" Rachel teases.
"Shut up," she calls over her shoulder, and then disappears into her bedroom. It's both a relief and a burden to be back in her space. She knows she's going to remember the trip (mostly) fondly. It ended a little strangely, but she's willing to take it because she got to spend time with Rachel. She got to sleep with Rachel.
Twice.
If that doesn't make it the best Thanksgiving ever, she doesn't know what does.
Quinn starts to unpack immediately, just managing to lift her suitcase onto her bed without re-injuring herself. She honestly can't wait until her cast comes off and she can become a fully-abled human being once again.
She just wants to go back to playing sport.
Quinn separates out her laundry and chucks it into her hamper, and then returns everything else to her closet. She's done in ten minutes, zipping closed her empty suitcase and sliding it off her bed before carrying it over to her closet. She can't lift it high enough to put it away, so she'll have to ask Rachel to -
The knock at her door brings a smile to her face because she knows that particular knock. "Come in," she calls out, and the door immediately opens.
Rachel steps into the room, a slight furrow in her brow.
Quinn's smile falters. "Rachel, are you okay?"
"I need to talk to you about something," Rachel says, and the severity of her tone gives Quinn pause. She suspects she knows what's coming, but it still catches her off guard. Her movements grow still and she turns her gaze on the brunette.
Rachel looks nervous, her fingers tapping against her thigh. It's a tick Quinn has discovered, and the sight of it is doing nothing to help Quinn with her own nerves. She's not prepared for this, and all she can hear is Hiram repeatedly telling her to be gentle.
"Maybe you should sit," Rachel suggests.
"I think I'll stay standing," she says automatically.
"Quinn," she says.
"What is it? What's wrong?"
Rachel opens her mouth to speak, and then immediately snaps it shut. She shakes her head, laughing nervously. "This isn't happening," she says, talking to herself. "This is just totally crazy."
Quinn frowns, because now she's just confused. "Rachel, what's going on?"
"I've - I've been trying to wrap my head around something very important, Quinn."
"Okay...?" she says, skeptical yet kind. "Can I help?"
"I do believe you're probably the only one who can," she says cryptically, and Quinn's eyebrows rise. Where is she going with this? "I mean, you're Quinn Fabray, and I'm Rachel Berry. We're - we're supposed to clash, right? I mean, we do, but then you say the sweetest things and you flirt and you look at me as if the great big world doesn't even exist and - " she stops. "This is crazy, Quinn."
Quinn blinks. "This is crazy, Rachel," she echoes. She needs Rachel to stop talking right now. She's barely holding on as it is, and any more words from those perfect lips... she's going to give in. "It's been an emotional weekend," Quinn continues, trying to stem the flow of revelations.
"I know," Rachel says with a nod. "I know a lot of things now, Quinn." She takes steps forward, moving to stand right in front of Quinn, so she can look her into her eyes as best she can. "I keep thinking that you must know as well. Am I wrong?"
Quinn doesn't respond.
"I want to be all those things you insist on thanking me for," she says. "I want to be your friend, your confidante, the person you can always count on, the person you allow to help you. I want to be all those things and so much more, and you know that, don't you?
"I wasn't going to say anything, you know? I was just going to hold it in, suck it up and get through this year as your friend, but I can't. I can't do that, and I'm not about to ask either of us to change. We both deserve better than that." She sucks in a deep breath and exhales slowly. "I have to tell you, because it's not fair to either of us." Her eyes lock onto Quinn's, and she thinks she sees pleading there. It makes her falter.
What is Quinn asking her to do?
Rachel shakes her head, clearing it. "I like you, Quinn," she says, the words coming out in a rush. "I mean, I really like you, in all the ways that I probably shouldn't, but I do. I'm sorry, but I really do, and I'm tired of having to hide it, even though it seems I've been doing a really poor job of that."
All Quinn is thinking is be gentle be gentle be gentle but Rachel just keeps talking, saying all the right words to help Quinn.
There's a rejection expected - both of them need Quinn to say the words to end all hope of this ever becoming something. All she has to do is open her mouth and say, "I'm sorry, Rachel, but I don't feel the same way."
It's simple.
It's all she has to do.
So, of course, she fails.
Epically.
It's not entirely her own fault - she'll stand by that - because Rachel just doesn't stop talking, and there are only a select few ways to get her to shut up.
"... been thinking about this a lot and I've come to the conclusion that the best way for us both to move forward is to - mmph."
It happens so quickly, Quinn isn't sure any neurons are even firing in her brain.
One second she's listening to Rachel go on and on about how they're supposed to work together through all the headaches of running a school without everything being awkward and, the next second, they're doing this.
Quinn Fabray is kissing Rachel Berry.
The second their lips touch, Quinn feels every single worry she has simply melt away, and she steps into the kiss, her hands finding purchase on Rachel's hips. She almost smiles into the kiss... before reality snaps her back and she pulls away, her eyes wide and an apology on the tip of her tongue.
But.
She can't.
She can't bring herself to apologise or turn and run. She can't say the words to end this all before it even begins. She just can't and she won't.
So, instead, Quinn risks the smallest of smiles, which isn't that difficult to do when she sees the look of complete and utter shock on Rachel's face. "Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?" she asks, surprised by the husk in her own voice.
Rachel just continues to stare at her, dumbfounded. "Quinn," she eventually says. "You kissed me."
Quinn waits, allowing Rachel a moment to catch up.
And, catch up, she does.
The moment her mind wraps around what's just happened, she's reaching out for Quinn and pulling her into another, more heated, kiss. Quinn feels fingers in her hair and a palm pressed to the back of her neck. Really, she's more concerned with learning all she can about Rachel's perfect mouth with her own than anything else in this moment.
This time, Rachel is the one to pull away, stepping back. "Okay, and now I kissed you," she says, her tone one of disbelief. "But, why are you kissing me back?"
Quinn raises her eyebrows.
"Don't do that," Rachel suddenly says. "Logically, I know what's going on right now, but I need you to tell me. I need to hear you say it because this could all be some kind of fever dream, and I keep thinking you're going to run."
Quinn steps forward, regaining the space Rachel put between them. "What do you need to hear from me?" she asks, her tone understanding and sincere.
"Why are you kissing me back?"
"Because I want to."
"Why?"
"I like kissing you," Quinn says, as if its the simplest thing in the world. It is. "I would really like to be kissing you a lot more."
Rachel stares at her, her eyes clouded in confusion and... slight heartbreak. "Is that all?" she asks, her voice shaking.
"No," Quinn says, lifting her right hand to tuck a lock of hair behind Rachel's ear. "Do you have any idea what you've done to me?" she whispers. "How you've claimed my every thought. How you've come to claim my heart."
Rachel's breath audibly hitches.
"I want you to know all of me," Quinn confesses slowly. "I've never wanted that before. It's big, Rachel, because I've spent my entire life not needing or wanting anybody or anything, but then you just entered my life without warning, and I - " she stops suddenly, swallowing. "I wasn't ready for you. I'm still not, but I want - I want you. I'm tired of hiding it, too."
Rachel's eyes search her face. "Is this really happening?"
"It is," Quinn replies.
Rachel's own palm cups her cheek, just needing to touch her. "What happens now?" she asks.
Quinn knows they still have a lot to talk about but it's the last thing she wants to do. Still, she says, "I don't know."
"Okay," Rachel says, smiling when Quinn leans into her touch. "Why don't we start with the question: do you want to be with me?"
Quinn nods.
"In what way?"
"In all the ways."
Rachel breathes out slowly, her fingers sliding into Quinn's loose hair. "This is crazy," she murmurs, bringing Quinn closer.
There's a moment.
Fight and fight, or just let it happen.
They close the gap between them at the same time, mouths coming together in a hot, breathless kiss.
It might be crazy and unbelievable, but it is happening.
"What are you thinking about?"
Quinn breathes out slowly, a content sigh escaping her lips. "I'm thinking that I would really like to take that nap you were teasing me about."
"Do you want me to leave?"
Almost on instinct, Quinn's arm tightens around Rachel's waist, pulling her closer. "I was kind of hoping you could take the nap with me," she says. "Unless you have something else you'd rather be doing."
Rachel chuckles, snuggling further into Quinn's side as they lie on the blonde's bed. "Well, I suppose I could think of a few things," she murmurs, her tone dripping with innuendo, and Quinn's eyes snap open.
"Oh, really?"
Rachel presses a kiss to Quinn's shoulder, and then resettles. "We should nap."
"We should," she agrees as her eyes slip shut once more.
There's a beat of silence before Rachel breaks it. "I get my best sleep when I'm with you."
"I do, too," Quinn says, being more open than she's been with any other person. Even Tori didn't get this side of Quinn until at least a few years into their relationship. It took a sixteen-year-old attempting to seduce her nanny to get them to the kind of warmth Quinn is so willingly giving to Rachel.
Which reminds Quinn of just another thing they're probably going to have to talk about. Somehow, she just knows that conversation isn't going to go down well. Even allowing herself to think about it objectively makes Quinn cringe.
Maybe she can get away with not telling Rachel.
No.
She wants Rachel to know all of her, and she means it.
As terrifying as it is.
It's a knock on the door that draws Rachel from slumber. It's slow at first, and then she scrambles out of Quinn's arms in panic, suddenly afraid the person behind the door is just going to barge into the room.
But then she remembers that this is Quinn's room.
Nobody would do that.
Still.
Rachel shakes Quinn awake, resisting the urge to kiss her sleepy pout away. "Someone's at the door," she murmurs, and Quinn's eyes snap open. "Hey, Sleepyhead," she whispers, giving in and pressing her lips to Quinn's.
Quinn immediately smiles, and then tenses when there's another knock. Rachel has just enough time to rise off the bed and dart into the bathroom before the door does open slowly and Kurt pokes his head through the small opening.
Quinn blinks repeatedly, still half asleep.
"Hey," Kurt says, stepping into the room. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you," he says, looking apologetic. "Just wanted to see if you were back and say hello."
Quinn swings her legs off her bed. "It's okay," she says, even though there's a part of her that acknowledges it's not okay because Rachel is currently hiding in her bathroom. "How was home?" she asks anyway, refusing to be a bad friend on top of a bad... girlfriend. Are they girlfriends?
They really need to talk.
"It was good," Kurt says brightly. "My dad and I actually went to stay at this cabin by the lake. He took me fishing."
Quinn laughs at the grimace on his face.
"I'm not cut out for fishing, apparently."
"Too gross?"
"It's disgusting."
Quinn shakes her head in amusement.
"What about you?" Kurt asks. "I haven't seen Rachel buzzing about. Did you end up murdering her?" He laughs at his own joke, but Quinn frowns.
"Do people really think that about us?" she asks seriously.
Kurt sobers at her tone. "Yes. No. I don't know." He scratches his forehead. "Does it really matter what they think?"
"I suppose not," she concedes. "And, no, I didn't murder Rachel," she says. "It was actually a really good weekend. Her family is huge and loud and a little bit insane."
"So, you're basically describing every family," he teases.
"Yeah."
"Well, I'm glad no murders were committed and you two seem to be getting along," he says. "It'll definitely make things run a little smoother in this place, though I will miss the fights. You two can be awfully entertaining, sometimes."
"Har har," Quinn fakes a laugh.
Kurt rolls his eyes. "Anyway, I still have unpacking to do, so I'll let you get back to your nap."
"How kind," she deadpans.
He just laughs out loud. "I missed you, too," he calls over his shoulder as he heads to the door. "See you, Quinn."
Rachel waits another two minutes after Kurt has left before emerging from the bathroom, a pensive look on her face. "I think you're going to have to switch shampoos," she says. "That brand you're using performs tests on animals."
Quinn is still perched on the edge of her bed, and her eyebrows rise in question.
"Oh, I did a lot of reading of the backs of all your bottles while I was in there," she says, moving to stand in front of Quinn.
"Sorry," she says, grimacing.
Rachel waves off the apology. "Also, I think you're going to have to find some way to lock your door if we're going to be making out in this room."
Quinn scoots forward slightly, spreads her legs and uses hands on the back of Rachel's thighs to bring her forward into the space. "And, we are going to be making out?" she asks, resting her head against Rachel's abdomen, just below her breasts.
Rachel's fingers slide into her hair, thoroughly enjoying being able to touch and being touched in return. "I get this feeling you have a little obsession with kissing."
"I have a large obsession with your mouth," Quinn murmurs against Rachel's shirt. "It's just so talented."
"Indeed, it is."
Quinn tilts her head upwards to look at her face. "Are we together?"
Rachel sucks in a breath. "As in...?"
"In my head, I want to think of you as my girlfriend," she says, sounding particularly vulnerable. "Would that be okay with you?"
Slowly, a smile spreads across Rachel's face, and she bends slightly to drop a kiss onto Quinn's forehead. "I think I'd be okay with that."
"Yeah?"
"Definitely."
Quinn lets out a relieved breath. "What happens now?"
"Anything we want."
Quinn spends that first night in a restless state. She's constantly debating with herself, trying to decide if this is really a good idea. Too many things can go wrong.
She could end up hurting Rachel.
Rachel could hurt her.
They're probably, definitely, going to end up hurting each other.
But Quinn wants her. She wants this and, as terrified as she is, the excitement and adoration and happiness she's been feeling outweighs the fear.
It's as simple as that, and Quinn is going to do everything in her power to hold onto it.
Rachel doesn't necessarily have such qualms, but her own fears are easily suppressed. She's just too happy to worry about anything in this moment and, if Quinn needs her to be the stronger one at this point in their relationship, then she'll do it.
She's ready to let Quinn hold onto her as tightly as she needs.
§§§
"Just tell me."
Rachel can't resist the urge to roll her eyes. "Britt, please, there's nothing to tell," she says. "I have to study, okay? Exams are literally around the corner."
Brittany ignores her, continuing to block the door and stopping Rachel's exit.
"Britt," Rachel whines. "I have to study. You can't keep me trapped in your room just because I'm refusing to answer your question."
Britt's eyes narrow. "I haven't even asked a question."
Rachel huffs. "I know what you're doing, and there's nothing to tell, okay?"
Brittany sighs. "Fine," she allows; "but just know that I'm on to you. There's something different about you, and about Quinn."
Rachel says nothing, just presses her lips together and waits.
Eventually, Brittany moves away from the door, stepping towards her former roommate. "Whatever it is, you know you can tell me, right?"
Rachel waits a beat before she nods. "I know."
Her face splits into a wide smile, and then she opens her own door. "Go on, then," she says. "I expect you to ace your exams with all the studying you've been doing."
There's a teasing lilt to her voice that gives Rachel pause. She's about to question the blonde, but Brittany winks, and Rachel shakes her head.
"You think you're so smart, don't you?"
"You're the one who keeps using that word."
Rachel playfully swats her arm. "I hate you a little bit, right now."
Brittany laughs out loud. "You love me."
Rachel is still shaking her head as she finally leaves Brittany's room. It's something to think about, of course, because it's almost as if Brittany already knows. She and Quinn have had conversations about several things but they've astutely avoided talk of... coming out.
Rachel's come to accept that it's not going to happen, and that's okay. She already has enough people talking about her for other things - that she accepts have always been out of her control - and she's definitely not going to pressure Quinn into doing anything with which she's not comfortable.
Now, though, Brittany suspects them, which means she'll know for sure sooner or later, and then what?
Rachel knows she has to discuss it with Quinn, and she makes a beeline for the blonde's room instead of her own. She's seen very little of Quinn now that exams are so close. Her girlfriend is very disciplined when it comes to studying, following her rigorous schedule with a certain intensity that is both sexy and frightening for Rachel.
Rachel has tried to get her to slack, but Quinn isn't against kicking the brunette out of her room if she gets too distracting. Rachel was definitely surprised when it happened the first time, and the next time was equally shocking because there was no way Quinn would oust her girlfriend a second time.
Or a third, really.
But, Quinn is focused and determined, and Rachel's sure there's a lot of psychology behind it, so it's just another thing they need to talk about. The list is growing.
She's planning for after exams are over.
It's what Quinn has promised her, anyway.
They finish exams, have three unnecessary days of school, and then they go on Winter Break.
Rachel's trying to follow her girlfriend's example. She's a good student on most days, but she gets easily distracted. It's one of the reasons Quinn is always hesitant to allow her to sit in her room while they're both supposed to be studying.
Sometimes, they both study in Kurt's room. It's the only time Quinn participates in a group study session, and it usually turns into Quinn tutoring them both in Calculus and whatever else her big brain knows.
It's easy to think she's just naturally smart, which she is, but she works hard at it.
Constantly.
Every day.
Still, even though Rachel knows Quinn's schedule - the blonde printed it out for her, so she would stop asking if she was free to cuddle - she still knocks on Quinn's door and immediately pushes it open. She's unsurprised to find Quinn at her desk, though she does baulk at the fact that the blonde is on her feet. She barely turns to look at Rachel, which is a good thing too, because Rachel is struck dumb by the sight before her.
It isn't even as if there's anything different about Quinn; it's just, well, there is. She's just standing there, legs spread as she bends to pore over an open textbook on her desk.
"What are you doing?" Rachel finds herself asking.
"I needed to stretch," Quinn replies, her eyes still on her textbook. "I've been sitting for hours."
Rachel steps forward to close the space between them, but she deems that a dangerous endeavour. Instead, she pauses, her eyes raking over Quinn's lean body. "Quinn?" she says.
Somewhat distracted, Quinn glances over her shoulder. "What's up?"
"Have you ever just watched someone move or talk or laugh and you're like, 'Wow, how the hell is everything you do just so fuck hot?'"
That definitely gets Quinn's attention and, in the next moment, she's turned away from her desk and is moving right into Rachel's personal space, intent clear on her face. For a moment, Rachel feels as if she's prey being stalked, but then Quinn's face splits into the most breathtaking smile.
And then her lips are actually physically taking Rachel's breath.
Quinn steps forward until Rachel's back hits the door with a thud. There are hands on her hips and her senses are being bombarded by everything Quinn Fabray. She can barely catch her breath, and Quinn gives her a slight reprieve by dragging her lips across her jaw, licking and sucking.
"You think I'm fuck hot, huh?" Quinn murmurs.
Rachel slides her hands over Quinn's back, feeling her muscles under her fingertips. "Among other things, yes."
Quinn pulls back slightly, a mischievous grin on her face. "Were you missing me?" she asks.
"I was," she confesses, her fingers drawing letters on Quinn's back. "You study way too much," she complains, which draws a chuckle from the blonde that she feels right through her entire body.
"So, what you're saying is you've come to distract me?"
"Exactly," she says, suddenly hopeful.
Quinn hums softly, deciding to allow them both to enjoy this moment. "Well, it's working."
"I thought it might."
"Sneaky," Quinn says, nuzzling Rachel's cheek and pressing tender kisses to her soft skin. It's slightly ticklish, but Rachel lets out a content sigh. She could definitely get used to this.
She is getting used to it.
"Quinn?"
"Hmm?"
Rachel's hands move to hold the sides of Quinn's face, and she lifts it slightly to get the blonde to look at her. "I know we kind of haven't discussed this at all, but how would you feel if Brittany knew about us?"
Quinn immediately tenses, her eyes snapping up to meet Rachel's. "What?"
"I - I didn't tell her," Rachel assures her. "She hasn't really said anything to me about it, but I think she's figured it out. I'm - I'm happier. I can't seem to hide it."
Quinn swallows audibly. "Rachel..."
"She won't tell anyone, Quinn. I promise, she won't."
"Not even Santana?"
Rachel can't answer that because she's not sure. She hasn't even really thought about Santana when it comes to her relationship with Quinn. The entire idea that Santana doesn't want to tell Quinn about her affections for Brittany because Quinn wouldn't understand is a pointless one, now that Rachel knows Quinn likes girls - as well.
It's almost amusing.
But, mostly, it's just sad.
"Not even Santana," Rachel says, because she knows Brittany would keep it from the Latina if Rachel were to ask. There's a loyalty to be found there that Rachel's never actually experienced before. "I still think the two of you really should sit together and talk."
Quinn shakes her head. "We've already discussed this, Rachel."
"I know," she replies, sighing. "And we're not going to stop discussing it. I'm working on the both of you because this is something we can actually fix."
"We have to want to fix it," she counters, and Rachel can feel her exasperated sigh against her skin.
"You do, though," Rachel says. "I know you do."
"Can we stop talking about this?" she murmurs. "Please."
Rachel hugs her close for the longest time, just soaking up the warmth and trying to offer as much comfort as she can. "There's something I should probably tell you, as well."
Quinn pulls back, so she can see Rachel's face. "I'm not going to like it, am I?"
"That depends."
"On?"
Rachel presses a chaste kiss to her cheek. "So, I may or may not have told my dad about us this morning," she confesses, and Quinn's eyes widen. "It went well," she immediately assures her. "He was very happy; even joked about how I should make sure to marry you so you can help him run the estate."
Quinn blinks repeatedly. "You said he was okay with it?"
"He was surprised, obviously, but, yes, he's actually excited for us."
"Is he - will he - " she stops, and Rachel can practically feel her fear. It's practically radiating off her skin.
"He won't tell anyone, Quinn," she assures her. "Except LeRoy, of course, but they have no secrets between them. I told you that you're safe, remember? I mean it, Quinn. You're safe with me, I promise."
Quinn buries her face in the crook of Rachel's neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against her skin until the brunette actually starts giggling. "I find that I suddenly hate our school uniforms," Quinn growls.
"Why is that?" Rachel asks, throwing her head back to give her better access.
"Your collar is in the way," she says, bringing her right hand up from Rachel's hip and working on the tie and first button. "I want to taste your skin."
Rachel actually shivers at the sound of that, and she drags Quinn's lips back to hers, kissing her fiercely. In the little over a week they've been 'together,' they've done little more than exchange a few sweet, gentle kisses. They've been feeling each other out, and it's what Rachel is used to. She's been careful with this kind of affection since -
Just, since.
But, well, now, all the care has been thrown out the window.
Quinn presses the length of her body against Rachel's, practically trapping her against the door as they kiss, a clash of teeth, tongues and lips. Rachel wants her closer, and she closes her fists around the fabric of Quinn's shirt.
She tugs, as if Quinn can become a part of her.
She's definitely going to try.
It's when Quinn reaches for Rachel's left wrist and drags it above her head that Rachel freezes, the action bringing back a flashback of being held and pinned down that's almost paralysing.
Quinn senses it immediately, suddenly knowing she's done something wrong and, as if she's been scorched, she releases Rachel and steps out of her space, dropping her own hands.
"Rachel," Quinn whispers, suddenly panicked. "Rachel, oh my God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Rachel can see her but she's not seeing her, her own eyes clouded by him. All she can see are his dark, hostile eyes and all she can hear is his heavy, disjointed breathing.
"Rachel," Quinn says again, trying to break through the haze. "It's okay. You're okay. Please. Just stay here," she pleads. "Stay with me. Please. Rachel, please. You're safe here." She ducks her head to meet Rachel's unfocused gaze. "Look at me. It's me. It's Quinn. I'm right here. Reach out and touch me. You're safe. He's not here."
Against her better judgment, Quinn risks reaching out to touch her cheek, her fingertips almost featherlight.
"We're here, safe at Dalton," Quinn says. "You're here with me. He can't touch you here. You're okay. Please, Rachel, come back. Come back to me."
It takes another thirty-five seconds of endless pleas and reassurances before Rachel seems to come back to herself, sucking in a sharp breath.
"Quinn," she cries, and Quinn immediately wraps her arms around her, holding her close. "God, Quinn."
"I'm here," Quinn whispers into her hair. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Rachel doesn't respond. She just holds on as tightly as she can, breathing in apples and cinnamon and feeling Quinn's beating heart under her fingertips. They're both trembling, but it slows the longer they hold each other.
Rachel shifts first, pulling back slightly to look at Quinn's worried face. "I didn't think…" she says, absently trailing off because she actually has no idea what she's going to say.
"No, it's my fault," Quinn argues, shaking her head. "I should have known."
"How could you have known, Quinn?" she questions. "I didn't even know." Rachel breathes out slowly. "I don't want either of us to be afraid of this," she says. Then, after a lengthy silence, she adds, "I hate this."
Quinn runs a gentle hand over her hair. "I know," she murmurs. "I'm sorry. I wish I could make it better... because I feel as if I'm just making it worse."
Without any preamble, Rachel closes the space between their mouths and loses herself in the feel of Quinn's lips against her own. The blonde is initially hesitant, but they both settle into it, gently sucking and nibbling. It's a tender, calming kiss, and Rachel is immensely proud of herself for thinking only of Quinn the entire time.
"We're not going to be afraid of it," Rachel says. "Just, you know, maybe don't touch my wrists when we're making out."
Quinn nods slowly, silently berating herself.
She should have known.
Rachel can see the conflict in Quinn's eyes. It's as clear as her affection and desire, so she just pulls her in close, in another attempt to have them occupy the same space.
It's her intention to kiss the conflict away.
It gets better, Rachel thinks.
Maybe their physical relationship will always be on a different level to their emotional one, but at least they're talking about it.
It's something she finds she feels comfortable doing: talking to Quinn.
Just, being with Quinn.
And, that, in itself, is everything.