chapter three

rachel put her head on blaine's chest and tried to focus on his slightly fastened heartbeat. the comforter only covered them barely but she didn't mind much, drawing little circles on his bare chest with her index finger. even if it had been cold, she wouldn't have noticed. she rarely noticed anything at the moment.

she spent the days soaring above the clouds, smiling like an idiot and the nights in his arms. some time last week, they'd done the unthinkable. the inexplicable.

she'd thought that everything was going to change, she'd thought that it would be awkward and weird and right after it happened and silence settled around them like a third presence, she'd even thought their friendship was over.

but they sort of both went on to pretending nothing odd had happened, only to do the same unspeakable thing over and over again, always pretending nothing weird was going on between the roommates. between dazed and confused rachel and her gay roommate.

she knew they would have to talk about it sometime. or better, he, was going to have to say something about it. because really, she was not going to say anything to stop what was happening. she couldn't help but wonder though. how did he do it? how did he get excited - as she could tell - being with her when he was supposed to like men? that was something you surely couldn't fake. or could he?

she didn't understand. but she didn't dare to ask him about it, she was afraid that if she put it out there; that he shouldn't be doing the things to her that he did; it would make him stop.

and she didn't want him to stop. no never ever did she want him to stop.

blaine let his hand trail over the naked soft skin of rachel's back and stared at the ceiling. he felt like every nerve of his body was on alert, like all his senses were on overdrive. ever since it had happened for the first time he felt like a superhero.

like he would start soaring and flying at the next chance. and it was so good.

everything.

but underneath his ecstatic happiness there was a big chunk of unresolved feelings and even more questions. it reminded him oddly of the time back in middle school when he'd started questioning who he was for the first time. he felt guilty and dirty in a way. and he was worried about rachel because she was even more fragile than him when it came to love.

he didn't want to hurt her. but he knew that he would as long as he didn't have himself sorted out properly. if he was fair, he'd stop sleeping with her. he'd sit down and figure out what he wanted, what he felt for her. but then he didn't want to. he liked how things were, he liked sleeping with her, he liked nuzzling up against her at night and kissing her neck when she was cooking and singing duets with her in the shower while running his hands through her pitch dark and soapy hair.

the truth probably was, he thought, that he already knew what he wanted; that he loved her and desired her, despite the fact that she was a woman, that their friendship had turned into something so much bigger but he felt like he was betraying himself or what he'd decided to be or known to be for so many years if he owned up to these feelings.

if he said to her: rachel berry, i love you, all of you and i want you and i'm happy and i don't think i've never felt so good in my life.

if he said that, he wasn't sure how much of the person he'd always been so sure to be would be left.

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