Chapter Thirteen
"Quinn?"
The blonde looks away from the ceiling and squints at Rachel, who is sitting at Quinn's desk and messing around on her laptop.
"I - I need to tell you something," Rachel says, and Quinn immediately sits up, frowning slightly as she waits for her to continue. "I didn't tell you earlier because I don't want it to be a big deal or anything. I mean, it's just… a day."
Quinn's frown deepens, a sinking feeling settling in her gut. She's finding zero comfort from the floor, so she pushes herself up onto her knees and makes her way towards where Rachel has spun to face her.
Rachel audibly swallows, anchoring herself by placing her hands firmly on her knees. "Today is the anniversary of my assault," she says, slowly and carefully.
Quinn sucks in a sharp breath, but she neither says nor does anything, choosing rather to let Rachel dictate this moment.
"I almost forgot, you know," she says. "These past two weeks with you have just been so wonderful and perfect, and I was able to let it slip from my mind. I woke up this morning feeling blissful and content."
Still, Quinn waits.
"But then reality came calling," she says, shaking her head. "I've changed my number a handful of times since then, but people keep getting a hold of it, and they've never been afraid to let me know exactly what they think."
Quinn squeezes her eyes shut.
Rachel slips off the chair and moves to kneel in front of Quinn. She pinches the fabric of the blonde's school shirt between her thumb and forefinger, holding her in place. "I don't think anything they say is true," she says. "He was and will always be in the wrong, and he's paying for his actions. It's just that it hurts that people can be so cruel, but they're wrong about me."
Quinn opens her eyes, nodding her head. "They are, Rachel," she says.
"My mother called earlier," she says. "She said she was wondering about this green dress she bought for me because she wants to wear it to this event, but I know better. She was just calling to check in without saying it expressly."
Quinn offers her a small smile.
"They've all been doing that all day," she says with an affectionate roll of her eyes. "Very subtle, the lot of them."
"You love them," Quinn says.
"I do," she murmurs, sighing. There are tears in her eyes, but not enough to fall. "I just wanted to tell you."
"Why?"
"Because I want you to know everything about me."
Quinn breathes out slowly. "Doesn't that scare you?"
"Immensely."
"It scares me, too."
Rachel smirks at her. "Can't handle the pressure, huh, Fabray?"
Quinn just shuffles forward. "Can I hug you?"
"Please."
And, when Quinn wraps her strong arms around Rachel's trembling body, the brunette finally allows her tears to fall.
She's never felt so safe.
"I'm not saying I'm gay or anything, but you look fucking hot today," Quinn says, practically leering at Rachel in a way that sets them both alight.
Rachel looks perplexed for a moment, and then she bursts out laughing. "We're girlfriends, Quinn."
"So?" she asks innocently. "Does that mean I can't pay you a compliment?"
"I think you and I have two vastly different definitions of the word 'compliment,'" she says, smiling sweetly. "What brings you by?"
They're standing on the balcony of the Great Hall where Rachel is overseeing venue preparations for the upcoming exams. Students are shifting desks and chairs into position below them, Rachel directing them into perfect rows of eight.
"I wanted to see you," Quinn replies, her eyes solely on Rachel. Honestly, the world could be burning down all around them and she wouldn't even notice.
"You sure you weren't just checking to make sure I'm doing a good job?"
Quinn chuckles knowingly, stepping closer. They remain facing forward, but the warmth of proximity isn't lost on either of them. "Well, that too," she teases. "But I did actually want to see you. I didn't see you this morning."
"And, whose fault is that?" she counters immediately.
"My own," Quinn relents, sighing.
Of course, Rachel has to point out that Quinn woke up crazy early, went for an unnecessary run - that Rachel is still mad at her for - and ended up missing breakfast completely… because she's lost substantial fitness and her cast makes showering difficult.
Which really means she didn't see Rachel until the only lesson they share: AP English, and they barely even had a moment to chat before their teacher was demanding their attention.
Rachel can't help thinking that they definitely don't spend enough time together, and she risks brushing the backs of her fingers against Quinn's. "I missed you too, Lucy Quinn."
Quinn grumbles. "I'm pretty sure I told you not to call me that."
"I just really enjoy it when your nostrils flare and you get that cute crease in your brow," she says happily. "You're just so stinking cute when you get annoyed."
Quinn links her pinkie with Rachel's, dutifully keeping the locked digits hidden between the skirts of their uniforms. "Oh, so, that's why you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Annoy me?"
Rachel eyes are curiously. "Do I actually annoy you?"
Quinn shrugs, choosing not to let the conversation take a serious turn. They're in public; Quinn intends to keep it light. "I might be a glutton for punishment or something," she says; "Because I really like it." She breathes out as she drops into a chair and pulls Rachel down with her. "Or, I just really like you."
"I think that's definitely it."
"You're very likeable."
Rachel sighs dreamily, her hand sliding onto Quinn's thigh. They're safe in this position up here. Nobody can see their hands. "I really want to kiss you," she says on the exhale. "Do I get to kiss you today?"
Quinn rests her hand over Rachel's. "That's actually why I'm here," she says. "I've been thinking about it, and I want to take you on a date."
Rachel sucks in a surprised breath. "A what?"
"A date," she repeats. "We're going into the city this weekend, and I want to take you on a date." Quinn makes sure not to look at her because, yes, this is probably the scariest thing she's ever done. "I know I can't give you much, Rachel, but I can give you this."
Rachel turns her own hand over and links their fingers together, palm to palm. "I don't expect you to give me anything, Quinn."
"I know," she murmurs; "but I want to." She turns her head to look at Rachel now, eyes wide and hopeful. "I've worked it out, Rachel. We can call it a work date. We can go for lunch, maybe do some shopping. I just - I want to spend time with you that isn't here."
Rachel is definitely in love.
It isn't even a question at this point.
"Quinn," she breathes.
Quinn's eyes drop down to her lips for a moment, and then snap back up to her eyes. "Now, I really want to kiss you."
"I'm almost done here," Rachel replies brightly. "Don't think I didn't notice that you managed to locate a key for your door."
Quinn chuckles lightly. "I managed to convince Mr Schuester it was a good idea because of some of the 'maybe sensitive' work I could be doing in my room," she coyly says, using her free hand for air quotes.
Rachel leans into her slightly. "Oh, I bet you were very convincing." She squeezes Quinn's fingers. "I swear, all you have to do is smile that smile and bring out those dazzling eyes, and I'm certain the world will bow at your feet."
"Or kneel," Quinn quips, grinning at her.
"Or kneel," Rachel allows, smiling right back. "You have fantasies about that, don't you?"
Quinn arches an eyebrow. "Rachel Berry," she says, her voice low. "The last thing you want to be doing right now is putting the image of your kneeling between my legs in my head."
Rachel does all she can not to react, but her body instantly heats up and the sheer mention of such a thing. "And why is that?"
Quinn doesn't respond to the question. Rather, she unlinks their fingers and rises to her feet. "You're slacking," she says, her voice carrying an air of confident superiority. "What kind of leader sits down while everyone else is working? This is unacceptable, and I expect better from you."
Rachel just raises her eyebrows.
"We're going to have to have a long discussion about this," Quinn says, continuing in that superior voice. "I'll be in my bedroom. Come find me when you're done here." And, with that, she turns and practically struts away without looking back.
Rachel can only watch her go, unable to shake the feeling that Quinn Fabray is going to be the life and death of her.
And she's going to enjoy every second of it.
Quinn tenses when she hears the sound of her door locking behind her, suddenly feeling nervous. She knows who it is without having to turn around. She didn't even hear the door open, but Rachel is here, and she's here to have a long discussion.
Still, Quinn doesn't move, keeping her eyes on the books on the desk in front of her. To her credit, she barely flinches when she feels Rachel's hands on her shoulders. They slide down over her chest, gently palm over her breasts, and then move back up.
Rachel's arms wrap around her neck and she presses a soft kiss to Quinn's neck. And then just below her ear. Her jaw, her cheek and her temple.
The moment Quinn sighs in content, Rachel releases her and moves to sit on the edge of her bed. She's wearing a satisfied smirk when she finally looks at Quinn's face, which is sporting a truly unimpressed expression.
"You wanted to see me?" Rachel asks innocently, and Quinn lets out a growl. "Something you'd like to say, Quinn?"
For a moment, the blonde says nothing, and then she slowly rises to her feet. "You're tempting me, Rachel," she says, walking towards her girlfriend.
"I am," she murmurs, moving back onto the bed and kicking off her shoes. "What are you going to do about it?"
Quinn just shakes her head, looking decidedly amused. "What would you have me do?"
As carefully as she can, Rachel settles against Quinn's pillows and sighs. "It's just, well, you're all the way over there, and I'm over here. You're so, so far away."
Quinn raises her eyebrows. "So, you're saying you want me over there, huh?"
"Preferably, I'd like you all over me," she says coyly, and Quinn is on her in a flash. She shrieks in surprise when Quinn climbs over her, but she laughs a moment later to make sure Quinn doesn't recoil in panic.
They've been testing her responses to these situations, forcing her to her limits and chancing flashbacks in all the best and worst ways.
"Are you okay?" Quinn still asks, as she's been doing every time they're in this position, or something similar.
"I'm okay," is Rachel's usual reply and, as soon as the words come out, Quinn is kissing her, pressing her body down against Rachel's. Her own hands steer clear of Rachel's wrists. It's just not something she's willing to test in this moment because, right now, she wants nothing more than to kiss Rachel in this way.
She has a phenomenal mouth.
She has a phenomenal everything.
Rachel's hands start moving first, untucking Quinn's shirt from her skirt and sliding her hands over the skin of the blonde's sides. Quinn lets out a low moan, and Rachel uses the opportunity to pull back and breathe.
"You are so beautiful," Quinn says breathlessly, and it's the gentleness of her tone of voice that catches Rachel completely off guard. "So beautiful," she murmurs, kissing her again.
And again.
Rachel's nails dig into Quinn's skin, bringing her impossibly closer. She wraps her right leg around Quinn's left thigh, her heart racing and her stomach coiling.
She's never felt like this before.
Even before Justin Prescott, she never wanted to be with someone this way. Finn never brought out any of these feelings or sensations, and it's terrifying.
Quinn recognises the moment she loses Rachel, and she pulls away, concern etching her face. "Rach," she breathes, her brow furrowed.
Not wanting her to go too far away, Rachel cups her cheeks and forces Quinn to meet her gaze. "I'm okay," she says. "I'm okay."
"Are you sure?"
Rachel nods. "I just - I want you a little too much," she confesses. "I've - I've never felt this way before."
Quinn blinks. "Physically?"
"And emotionally," she says. "It's everything, Quinn. You are ever - " she stops suddenly, instantly flushing at the sound of what she was about to confess.
Quinn quirks an eyebrow, a slow smirk spreading across her face. "I'm what?" she asks, all too knowingly.
Rachel brings her face down for another kiss, hoping to distract her. It works for a while. This kiss is slower, more tender. It's sensual and deeply emotional, and Rachel feels it in her very bones.
Quinn eventually brings an end to the kiss, pecking her gently. "It's okay, Rachel," she whispers, lips pressed to Rachel's neck. "You are everything, too."
Rachel quietly seethes as they make the trip into the city that Saturday afternoon.
She's sitting between Santana and Brittany, who have decided to monopolise her time. Her initial plans with Quinn have been thwarted because Santana pulled the 'friend' card and guilted her into having lunch with them instead.
Rachel knows she can't make Quinn a priority without raising suspicion, so the two of them have had to adjust their plans. She'll meet Quinn afterwards, both of them sneaking away somewhere and just being.
It's still making her boil slightly. She wants to spend the entire day with Quinn, and not be the third wheel on a Brittana date. Seriously.
Grumbling under her breath, she digs her phone out of her pocket to text Quinn, who's sitting near the front of the same bus with Kurt and Blaine.
And Sam.
Rachel presses down on her screen with entirely too much force, her irritation spiking. She wants to be sitting with Quinn. She wants to be holding Quinn's hand, breathing her in and feeling her warmth. She just wants to be with Quinn, and she doesn't know how she's supposed to keep that a secret from everyone around them. Is it even possible?
Rachel: I don't like this.
The reply comes instantly, and Rachel looks towards the front to find Quinn peering over her shoulder at her, a sly smile on her face. She's completely dangerous in this moment. There's an arch of an eyebrow that Rachel witnesses, and then she looks down at her phone.
Quinn: Is there anything you DO like?
Rachel: Fishing for compliments, are you?
Quinn: I'm waiting.
Rachel: You'll be waiting a long time, Quinn Fabray.
Quinn: Need I remind you that MY waiting is YOUR fault.
Rachel bristles immediately, feeling her irritation spike. Quinn was predictably sympathetic to Rachel's plight, given the secrecy of their relationship, but she's been having a little too much fun teasing her girlfriend about it.
Rachel: Bite me.
Quinn: With pleasure.
Rachel lets out a shaky breath, her heart rate picking up dangerously. She's sure Quinn must be able to hear it from so far away.
Rachel: You're a dangerous one, aren't you?
Quinn: You keep saying that.
Rachel: And I mean it. Those eyebrows should be illegal.
Quinn: Just my eyebrows?
Rachel: Baby, we are not doing this right now.
Quinn: Why? Are you getting flustered?
Rachel: Are you?
Quinn: You should know by now that I'm always running hot. Have you seen my girlfriend? She's a definite looker.
Rachel: She's stunning, is she?
Quinn: I'm pretty sure that's not what I said.
Rachel: I'm sorry, I can't hear you.
Rachel can practically hear Quinn's growl, and she smiles to herself… which draws attention to herself. Brittany raises curious eyebrows, and Santana pokes her bicep.
"Something you care to share with the class?" the Latina asks.
"Nope," Rachel immediately says. "It's nothing."
Santana leans into her. "Is it the guy from back home?"
Rachel immediately tenses. "What?"
"You're obviously talking to somebody you… fancy," she points out, grinning at herself. "I would recognise that facial expression anywhere."
Rachel isn't sure how to respond to that, so she doesn't. She won't lie about Quinn, but maybe it'd be easier to pretend the blonde is actually someone else. It'll probably ease the scrutiny, and Rachel will be able to act like a lovesick teenage girl with an actual reason.
She thinks she should discuss it with Quinn first. Though, for Rachel, she doesn't know how she would feel if Quinn decided to invent a secret significant other from back home as an excuse for her… happiness.
Except, well, Quinn is able to hide it much easier than Rachel can, and Rachel isn't sure if she's relieved or disappointed by that.
Thankfully, before Santana can press Rachel any further; Brittany steals her attention, and the moment passes.
Frankly, Rachel is finding all this secrecy rather exhausting.
Though, she'll endure it.
Hell, she'll even embrace it, because her girlfriend is worth it.
Being with Quinn is always going to be worth it.
Her phone buzzes once more and she looks down, a stupid smile claiming her face. She can barely hide it, because it's Quinn.
God, she's in so much trouble.
Quinn: It's either you're going deaf, or the problem is you're sitting all the way over there.
Rachel: Just you wait, Fabray. In next to no time; I'm going to be sitting in your lap.
Quinn: Jesus.
Quinn: And you call ME the dangerous one.
"Do you have to go?" Brittany asks, pouting in Rachel's direction.
Rachel glances at her watch. She's already late meeting Quinn, and she's itching to leave her friends. She's been anxious about it for the last fifteen minutes, just wanting to lay eyes on her blonde girlfriend. It's a little irritating how much she actually misses her.
They definitely don't spend enough time together.
"I do," Rachel finally says. "I already told you this, Britt. Quinn is probably already waiting."
"So, let her wait," Santana says, and Rachel shoots her a glare. They've already talked about this. Why can't Santana just lay off? Seriously.
Trying not to react too strongly, Rachel just shakes her head and rises to her feet. "I'm surprised you're not ushering me out of here," she says. "I would think the two of you would want some time alone, together." She gives Santana a pointed look, and the Latina's cheeks actually flush.
"Get the fuck out of here," Santana says with a dismissive wave of her hand. "And, please try not to kill each other. It would just be completely inconvenient for us, you know."
Rachel rolls her eyes. "I hear you," she deadpans. "It's all about you."
"As long as you know."
Rachel chuckles lightly, bends to kiss Brittany's cheek, and then leaves the restaurant. She's supposed to meet Quinn in a book store on the second level of the mall, and she has to force herself not to break into a run. The more time she wastes with walking; the less time she'll get to spend with Quinn.
God, she's pathetic.
Rachel finds Quinn easily when she arrives at the book store. She's standing in between two bookshelves, an open book in her hand and her head bent, eyes focused and back ramrod straight.
Even seeing her just standing there reading has Rachel catching her breath. It's honestly not fair how perfect the girl is, and Rachel can't stop her smile when she remembers that Quinn Fabray is hers.
Rachel moves towards her, stopping at her side and staring at her profile. She stands for a while because Quinn is locked in her own fantasy world, barely noticing anything around her, and it allows Rachel the opportunity to study her outside of their school corridors. She's ridiculously stunning, looking slightly lighter and unburdened away from all the responsibility.
Glancing around and noting that they're alone between the bookshelves, Rachel slides her hand onto the small of Quinn's back, startling her.
Quinn actually yelps, and glares… and then chuckles lightly, her features softening.
"Hey, you," Quinn says, her eyes alight with laughter at herself. "How long have you been standing there?"
"Not long," she lies. "Did I keep you waiting?"
Quinn shrugs as she sets the book back on its shelf. "I've been waiting for you my entire life," she says casually, and Rachel's heart rate spikes. It's entirely too easy for Quinn to do this to her. "Was it easy to get away?"
"Not quite," she admits. "But I managed it, and I'm here now. I missed you."
Quinn cocks her head to the side. "Are we going to have issues with attachment?" she asks.
"Only if you can stand there and tell me you didn't miss me," she shoots right back.
"I can't do that."
Rachel is always struck by how easy it is for Quinn to say these things, as if she doesn't realise how much weight her words carry.
What was it she said?
Dangerous.
Clearing her throat, Rachel asks, "Are you planning on buying anything in here?"
"Unless this book store has the dessert I promised you, the answer to that question is no," she says. "I actually saw a neat little bakery with some of the prettiest baked goodies I've seen in a while. You said you like cheesecake, right?"
"Quinn," she says.
"Yes, dear."
Rachel feels somewhat electrified. "I'm pretty sure everyone likes cheesecake, so that sounds great," she says; "but do you think we can pass by a… bathroom on the way?"
Quinn gives her a curious look, clearly not understanding her hesitation in asking her question.
Well, Quinn doesn't understand it until Rachel is dragging her into a bathroom stall and kissing her fiercely. Rachel barely gives her a moment to get her bearings before her tongue invades Quinn's mouth, exploring and claiming. Rachel's hands waste no time sliding under the fabric of Quinn's shirt and spreading across her warm skin.
"God, your hands are cold," Quinn murmurs, forcing away her panic at possibly being caught. Rachel picked a secluded bathroom, but they can't expect to be alone forever.
And, really, seeing two pairs of legs through the space in the door would surely raise some eyebrows.
Rachel must realise that, because she just kisses Quinn once, twice, and then retracts her hands and pulls away, smiling lazily. "Sorry," she whispers. "I just really wanted to kiss you."
"I'm not complaining," she says, and then chuckles at Rachel's questioning gaze. "It's just that your hands are freezing."
Rachel presses another kiss to her mouth, and then they walk out.
They remain close together as they make their way to the little bakery to which Quinn intends to take Rachel. Their hands brush against each other from time to time, and Rachel can't shake the feeling that it's not enough.
It will never be enough.
She has so many questions to ask, and she isn't sure she'll be allowed to bring them up to Quinn.
"Here we are," Quinn finally says, bringing them both to a stop by linking their pinkies.
Rachel smiles warmly at her, and then leads the way inside. They spend good, long minutes perusing the confectionaries, marvelling over the various treats and trying to decide. Once Rachel finally chooses a slice of lemony white chocolate cheesecake, and Quinn picks red velvet cheesecake; the blonde sends Rachel to find them a table while she places their order.
Rachel finds them a spot hidden in the corner, where nobody from the outside can actually see them. It's not as if she intends to do anything to or with Quinn, but she doesn't want their 'coffee date' to be misunderstood by any students who happen to walk by.
At least, if they come inside, Quinn and Rachel will be able to see them and act appropriately.
While she waits, Rachel watches Quinn with focused eyes. She wouldn't be able to look away if she tried, really. There's still so much she needs to know about this girl, but the emotions she's feeling are both exhilarating and terrifying. It's obvious to them both that Rachel is definitely attracted to Quinn.
Physically, it's undeniable - the girl is unfairly stunning - and Rachel hasn't yet been able to bring up the extent of her emotional attraction.
The level of her feelings for Quinn will probably send the blonde running.
"Hey," Quinn says, catching her attention as she slides into her seat opposite Rachel. If ever they get to go on an actual date, she'll never sit this far away from Rachel. "Everything okay?"
"Why are you so beautiful?" Rachel murmurs, and Quinn immediately blushes. "I think, if I could, I would just look at you for the rest of my life."
Quinn arches an eyebrow. "Just look?"
Rachel cocks her head to the side. "Maybe touch, as well."
Quinn audibly swallows, and leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. "When we get back to school, you're mine," she says, her tone offering no room for a rebuttal. "I've shared you enough for one day."
Rachel likes the feeling of… belonging to Quinn.
For a lot of her life, she's felt unwanted, passed between her parents like a burden, some kind of bargaining chip, and then treated like a nuisance by her fellow students.
But, with Quinn, even when she was actively denying Rachel; she's always felt wanted and appreciated, and she still doesn't know how or why that could be.
Sighing, Rachel says, "I kind of promised Brittany I would help her with choreography for our dance class."
Quinn stares at her for the longest time, her facial expression slightly pinched. Then: "Why?" she whines.
Rachel grins at her. "I'm sorry."
"Oh, sure, you definitely look it," she grumbles. "I suppose I should be flattered my girlfriend is so on-demand."
Rachel's breath always catches whenever Quinn says those magical words: my girlfriend. It makes her feel so… wonderful and alive and so many good things. "You should be, yeah," she says, and then leans back when a waiter brings them their drinks and desserts.
Quinn sips at her Cafe Latte as soon as they're alone again, and then adds half a sachet of brown sugar and stirs silently. She stays watching Rachel the entire time, existing in a state of disbelief. She's here with Rachel Berry, drinking coffee and having easy conversation.
In her mind, they're the only two people in the entire world, and it feels amazing.
It never felt like this with Tori. It was a secret like this is, of course, but Quinn was never as invested in that as she is in this. This is, somehow different.
Rachel is different.
"How is it?" Quinn asks, watching as Rachel takes a tentative bite of her cheesecake. She forces herself not to imagine what it would feel like to be able to feed her. Those are dangerous thoughts that she can't entertain while sitting in public.
"It's amazing," Rachel says, practically moaning. "Why have I never been here before?"
"Because this is the first time you've been out with me," Quinn says, sounding very serious. "I'm going to take you to so many places, Rachel Berry."
"Oh?"
Quinn nods. "I'm going to take you everywhere."
"Quinn?"
"Hmm?"
Rachel looks over at her girlfriend with curious eyes. "Why are you wearing purple skinny jeans?"
Quinn looks away from the stationery selection in front of her, a slight frown on her face. "What?"
"You wear a lot of purple," she says. "But I've figured out that you don't even like purple, do you?"
Quinn straightens her back, looking slightly distressed. "Why would you say that?"
Rachel isn't sure what to make of her reaction, but she doesn't ask. "It's true, isn't it?" She doesn't wait for a response. "Why do you wear a colour you don't even like?"
Quinn shifts her weight from her left foot to her right. "I wouldn't go so far as to say I don't like it," she says, sounding almost diplomatic. "It's just, well, my mother hates purple. With a vengeance. She detests it. Abhors it. So, I wear purple to - "
"Get under her skin?" Rachel offers.
"It's more to get her… attention," she quietly confesses. "Sometimes, I think that if I don't wear such… uh, hated colours; they wouldn't see me at all."
Rachel wants to take her in her arms, if only so she no longer has to see Quinn's lost expression. The last thing she wants is to be responsible for putting it there.
Neither of them moves.
"I hate this," Quinn admits.
"It's necessary," Rachel says for both of them because, yes, it is.
Behind closed doors, they can be whomever they want to be to and for each other, but their public personas are different, and it's a painful truth they're always going to struggle to accept.
"I'll make it up to you," Quinn says.
"Oh, I bet you will."
It doesn't take Brittany long to realise that Rachel is… distracted. She's obviously not paying any attention to what the blonde is saying, and the somewhat dreamy expression on her face is amusing to Brittany. She thinks she has an idea what's really going on, but she's decided to drop the subject, for now.
Rachel will come to her when she's ready.
"Rachel," Brittany says, getting her attention. The brunette's head practically snaps up, looking apologetic. Brittany smiles gently, knowingly. "I'm feeling a little tired," she says. "Think we can call it a night?"
Rachel blinks in surprise, and then slowly smiles. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure," she says. "I think I might catch a nap." Then: "With Santana."
Rachel chuckles lightly, but the relief is easy to see. She doesn't put up much of a fight beyond that, and she immediately takes her leave.
She has a different blonde she intends to see.
Quinn is surprised when Rachel arrives at her room earlier than expected, but she's definitely not complaining.
Well, it isn't as if Rachel even gives her the opportunity to do so because, yes, now they're using their mouths for things other than talking.
And thoroughly enjoying the safety of a locked door.
Rachel slides her cold hands under Quinn's shirt, intent on touching warm skin. She just wants to feel every part of Quinn on offer, and she's going to take what Quinn willingly gives.
"I don't think it's fair that you're using me for my body heat," Quinn murmurs against Rachel's lips, stepping forward and pushing her back.
She wants her on the bed.
She wants her underneath her.
God, she wants her everywhere.
When the backs of Rachel's legs hit the bed, she drops down willingly, bringing Quinn with her. Their mouths stay attached because the thought of being separated is actually… painful.
Rachel settles on her back, and pulls Quinn closer, her hands snaking around her waist and forcing their hips together.
Quinn is a phenomenal kisser. She pays attention, using her lips, teeth and tongue to render Rachel speechless. She's probably the most talented person Rachel has ever kissed, though Rachel probably won't ever tell her that.
It'd go straight to her head.
It's when Quinn grinds her hips against her that Rachel's mind stops drifting, and she lets out a pleasurable moan at the sensation.
God, it feels so good.
"Oh, my," escapes from Rachel's lips as she gasps.
Quinn tenses, thinking she's done something wrong. "Are you okay?" she asks, breathless and needy. "God, please be okay. I don't know if I can - " she stops, her eyes tightly shut. "Are you okay?" she forces out.
Rachel can't help her chuckle, rumbling from deep in her throat. "I'm okay," she murmurs, threading her fingers through Quinn's hair. "I promise I'm okay. Just kiss me. It's okay."
Quinn doesn't have to be told twice, and her mouth descends on Rachel's with the intention of keeping them both occupied until neither of them can catch her breath.
What feels like hours later, Rachel finds herself sprawled across Quinn's body, her ear resting over Quinn's heart. She can feel it beating, practically racing as their collective breathing steadies and the heat in the air and between their still-clothed bodies dissipates.
Rachel's never really experienced this kind of make-out session before. She's hot and bothered and so deeply aroused, but, oddly, still satisfied. While Quinn pushes for more, she doesn't really push, and Rachel finds herself falling deeper and deeper in love with this girl who cares so fiercely.
"Quinn?" Rachel murmurs, sounding sleepy and content.
"Hmm?"
"I told myself I wasn't going to ask, but the curiosity has been killing me from day one," she says, suddenly wary of her next words. "Just, umm, who are the people in the picture?"
Quinn, predictably, tenses, and Rachel is quick to kiss the corner of her mouth in an attempt to settle her.
"You don't have to tell me," Rachel offers immediately, growing slightly alarmed when Quinn's breathing grows unsteady. "Baby, you don't have to tell me. It's okay. I'm sorry I asked."
Quinn is halfway to a full-blown panic attack when Rachel's hand slides under her shirt and splays across her abdomen. As if a switch has been flipped, she immediately settles, her breathing steadying and her heartbeat returning to a normal pace.
"It's okay," Rachel murmurs again before settling into the crook of Quinn's arm and decidedly not moving.
They're growing closer and closer every day, and Rachel just wants to know everything.
Still, even she recognises when pushing is a bad idea. Quinn almost hyperventilating is an indicator not easily ignored.
Which is why she's wholly surprised when Quinn chooses to divulge.
"It's a picture of me and my sister," she says, whispering the words.
Rachel immediately frowns because she knows Quinn is an only child. If there was a sister, then there isn't a sister any longer, and just the thought of that is heartbreaking.
"I didn't know her," Quinn continues, her eyes slipping shut. "Her name was Frannie, and I didn't even know she existed until I found that picture in the bottom drawer of my mother's dresser when I went looking for her jewellery when I was, umm, I guess I just turned seven."
Just from the tone of Quinn's voice, Rachel knows this isn't going to be a happy story.
"I didn't know who was in the pictures I found, so, automatically, I asked," she says. "I asked my mother, and I remember pressing that particular picture into her hand, and she immediately burst into tears. I didn't understand, you know, and then she started yelling at me, telling me not to touch her things and to leave them alone. She kept saying it was my fault, and I - " she chokes on her words, the emotions overwhelming her.
"But, I was a persistent child, constantly asking questions, and I didn't quite manage to read the signs," Quinn goes on, managing to gather herself. "Looking back, I don't know if dropping the subject would have resulted in anything that different, but I've always believed that things that are meant to happen generally have a way of happening. So, I kept asking about the picture as any seven-year-old would, and I learned far more than I would have liked."
They exist in silence for the longest time, just breathing.
Rachel wants to say something to help or even offer her an out, but the words aren't coming. She thinks Quinn needs to talk about this because it's obviously affecting her, even all these years later.
"We were on a train when my mother snapped," Quinn says. "It was the last time we actually went anywhere as a family, and it was the last time either of my parents looked at me with any semblance of warmth. I've tried to accept that I must remind them of her, but - " she stops. "She died, Rachel, and we were on a train when my mother told me I was responsible."
Rachel does all she can not to react, but a small gasp manages to escape, and Quinn immediately tenses again.
"I - I didn't understand what she was saying at first," Quinn continues anyway, plowing forward. "It didn't make sense to my seven-year-old mind, but I remember her words. I'll never forget them. She said I killed her daughter. She said she wished I'd never been born because I proved to be useless. She never wanted me. She wanted Frannie, and I was the one who took her daughter away from her. She couldn't possibly love or care for someone like that, and she was a childless mother."
Rachel blinks rapidly, forcing away her tears.
God, what happened?
"I was so confused and distraught, and my mother was furious, so they sent me home. I went back to Hartford, where I spent the rest of the campaign with only my nanny. I remember crying for my parents every night, wondering if I'd imagined it all. I mean, I had no idea what I did, you know? So, I asked Mary. My nanny. She told me that Frannie was diagnosed with leukaemia when she was little, and it was... bad. And, in a last ditch effort to save her, they decided to have me."
Rachel's aware she's frowning, not really following.
"She needed new, clean cells, so they, umm, basically implanted me in my mother, so they could use the blood from my umbilical cord to save her," Quinn explains, suddenly sounding very detached. "I don't know the details - maybe I arrived too late or the cell count was too low, but it wasn't enough to save her. I wasn't enough to save her.
"Mary told me, before she retired, that my parents tried. They really did try to be the parents to me they needed to be, but they just couldn't. I think they were able to ignore the fact that I wasn't Frannie until I very rudely reminded them of it by unearthing that picture, and everything kind of fell apart after that. I don't think either of them can even look at me without seeing the person their daughter could have grown into and, once I outlived Frannie; they just… stopped… trying.
"It's the reason I don't really blame them," she says quietly. "The summer that followed that was… bad. My father's campaign didn't… go to plan, and… it was… bad."
There's a lot to be heard in those words, but Rachel can't quite make sense of it. Quinn is telling her so much without actually telling her.
"I was - I was sent to boarding school the next school year, and I've been going through the motions ever since. I mean, it's the least I can do, right? I wouldn't want a daily reminder of the child I lost either. It all makes sense."
"Quinn, no," Rachel finds herself saying. "None of this - there isn't - " she isn't even sure what to say or where to find the right words. "Quinn, you were just a baby," she eventually says because, God, she wasn't expecting this.
"And, even then, I wasn't enough," Quinn practically parrots. "Nothing I do ever will be. Whatever I do. God, how can anyone ever even look past what I've done?"
Rachel sits up, her eyes on Quinn's face. "Stop it," she says. "Please, just stop. You have done nothing, do you hear me? You never asked for any of this, and you had absolutely no control over the outcome because, if you did, I'm sure we would be having an entirely different conversation." She takes a deep breath. "It's not your fault. I need you to believe that. It's not your fault. Please. Please, don't blame yourself."
Quinn's watery eyes meet hers. "If not me, then who?" she asks. "If not myself, who am I supposed to blame when everyone else seems to?"
And, really, Rachel doesn't have a response for her.
When it's time for Rachel to return to her own bedroom before curfew, she doesn't want to go. Quinn's grip on her waist is enough to inform Rachel about her own feelings on the matter, but they can't do this.
They're the Head Students.
It would send the wrong message, even if nobody ever found out.
"I have to go," Rachel whispers, her fingers threading through Quinn's hair. "Are you going to be okay?"
"I think so," Quinn replies, catching hold of Rachel's wrist and pressing a kiss to her palm. "Thank you for listening. Thank you for staying."
"I'm not going anywhere, Quinn," she returns, leaning forward and kissing her cheek. "I told you I'm not running, okay?"
Quinn sighs. "I'm not used to this," she admits. "I've never really met anyone who gets me. I've never felt comfortable enough with anyone to be vulnerable and honest this way."
"It's okay if you're scared, Quinn," she assures her. "I get scared too."
"You do?" she asks. "Of me? Of us?"
"Of a lot of things," she admits.
"I don't want to hurt you," Quinn suddenly says, sitting up so she can look at Rachel properly. "I don't want you to hurt ever again."
"I know, baby," Rachel murmurs. "But, sometimes, it's inevitable, you know? This world is a pretty nasty place, full of evil and cruelty and violence."
Quinn sighs. "I know, but that doesn't mean I want to be responsible for any of it,' she says. "Especially not when it comes to you."
"I know," Rachel agrees, and then leans in to kiss Quinn's mouth. It's all she can think to do to wipe away the suddenly dejected look on her girlfriend's face. She pushes Quinn back until she's lying down again, and Rachel climbs over her, their lips staying attached. "I know," she repeats. "You won't hurt me, and I won't hurt you."
It's not a promise she can safely make, but she does it anyway, punctuating each word with a searing kiss. It's a seal of sorts, trying to prove to Quinn that she means her words, right now.
This moment is all that matters, anyway.
Quinn pulls her mouth away and smiles. "You're going to make me fail all my exams."
Rachel smirks. "And you'll be happy about it."
Quinn's eyes flash with… something. It's both happy and sad, and her next words break Rachel's heart. "I wouldn't know," she says; "but I know this is the happiest I've ever been."