I'd like all of you who have kept up with this story to please read the author's notes? Thank you.
an (1): Wow, I am spent. I literally finished this chapter a minute ago and I'm kind of shaking? It took a lot out of me. Anyway, firstly, there are no words to express how I feel about all of you who have individually pressed 'favorite' and 'follow' on this story. It started as something so minor as a one shot and turned into something else. There might not be much plot at all, but there are feelings that are very real. I just really would like to thank you for sticking around and trusting me to continue something I never thought I would.
an (2): With that said, I think that I am finishing this story with another chapter following this one. I'm still debating, but chances are, that's what's going to happen. Don't worry, there will be other one shots, because how can we not write any for these two crazy kids, right? Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this installment for it is one of my favorites. I love you all and (I know you hear it enough and probably hate it, but) please review! It means a heck of a lot to me when you do.
Enjoy.
When you're a little girl and grow up in a household like mine, it's hard to detach from the dream you've been raised to dream.
There's my mother and my father. We go to church on Sundays and then I go to youth group on Fridays. There are family dinners and Bridge Game Thursdays. There are functions to go to, big fake smiles to display, and lots of people to be introduced to. There's also an older sister, who is beautiful and perfect. And then there's the shadow I sleep under.
I grow up to think that this is life and this is how things are. I come home from school and I do my homework, silently and efficiently. I definitely know I don't want to upset Russell Fabray (especially after he locks himself in his den and there's no hearing from him until I'm in my room and I'm supposed to be asleep—it's past my bed time—and there's glass breaking and there's loud yelling.)
I then assume that I needed to be perfect. I needed to find a man who will later be my husband. A man I could proudly let wrap his arm around me and call me his trophy wife. No matter how dysfunctional everything at home was, it was something I wanted to have because it was familiar.
Of course, then life spirals off its tracks and ends up in the middle of nowhere and leaves you lost, with child and no support. My so-called family deteriorates before my eyes. It just fades into nothing. He said he didn't recognize me anymore. Like I'd gotten back from surgery and instead of just my nose, they had changed everything. I just wasn't the prim and proper little girl they had raised.
I can sit here and say I expected everything to derail, but in reality, the fact that everything actually fell apart… It still hits you like a brick house, you know? When it finally sinks in that your father ran off with another woman, your mother dove into alcoholism, and your sister hardly ever contacts you—it's unsettling. It makes your angry and you lash out and you stop believing that people stick around.
You stop believing in anything.
So, when I'm in the choir room and she steps closer to me, I think maybe I want something different. And that maybe I've been angry at all the wrong things; all the wrong people. Perhaps, all the answers lie behind those chocolate colored eyes and beneath the touch of her fingertips.
And when—after many restless days and sleepless nights of searching for those answers under her, on top of her, against the wall, in the bathtub—she stands there, against the counter, making me feel all kinds of crazy emotions, saying things like "I love you", of course I'm going to freak out.
Of course I'd feel like my heart is being plied apart and then being trampled over.
What if she's just like them? What if she leaves? What if I ruin everything? What if she ends up hating me, too? All these horrible what-if's invade my mind and run circles in my head, making tears rise and my heart race. I hide my face and I hear the panic in her voice.
"Let me in," she says.
So, I count to five. I let the fear seep into my veins and run its course. I let it shake me and rip me to shreds, but only for five seconds.
One.
She'll leave.
Two.
She'll never forgive me for all I've done to her.
Three.
We'll break each other.
Four.
She deserves better.
Five.
Inhale. Exhale.
I take her hand and I squeeze it a little. I say, "follow me," and lead her to the stairs. I don't look back at her. I can't look back at her. If I do, the fear will just stampede over me and take me with it. It will take me far away. Away from the only good thing in my life right now.
Her room is dimly lit with the rays of the morning sun. What time is it? My heart is pounding so loudly and so strongly, it feels like a heart attack. Or what I assume to be one. I shake my head. I'm overreacting. I'm so nervous.
I feel her tug at my fingers and I slowly turn to her. My eyes trail the piano keys printed on the carpet, they're almost mocking our first encounter. I can feel the worry radiate from Rachel's body. But more than that, I feel her concern and her need to make me feel safe. She wraps her arms around me. I rest my cheek on top of her head, then turn my face a little to place a small kiss onto her hair.
"I never understood you," I finally speak. She motions to look up at me but I can't let her do that. I shake my head against her and she just continues to hold me. "I tried to break you into a million little pieces, and sometimes I think I might have, but in reality, it was only a scratch. You're this tall oak tree, firmly planted, rooted into the ground, and I'm just a dumb kid trying to climb it, brake all its branches, and eat from the fruit.
I yank all the apples and think this might hurt you, but you only grow more; you grow taller, and stronger, somehow. And I hated it. I hated it because I didn't understand. I resented you because I resented myself for not being as bright as you."
She can't help but raise her head to look at me this time. Her eyes are filled with tears and she has to bite her lip to keep it from quivering. It almost hurts to keep her gaze but I need to let it out. I need to let it go.
"The truth is… I've wanted everything to do with you since the moment I saw you—since I heard you sing. It absolutely killed me in every which way. And it took me a long time to accept this—" I grab at my chest and I close my eyes. I try and swallow past this enormous ball in my throat, "—this intense need to be around you. And I'm so, so sorry for everything I've done in spite of your feelings in order to deal with my own."
Her mouth opens, but I lightly cover it with my hand. "I realized I never wanted to hurt you, not really, not ever. Every time you touch me, everything bad just melts away. I close my eyes and I can finally breathe. You stayed there that day, in the choir room, and I knew that was it. My life was never going to be the same."
Rachel grips me tighter, that's when I realize I've been shaking the entire time. I take a few minutes to breathe in and out, calming my heart. We stand in silence, just holding each other.
"The other night, when you said you loved me and I ran away, I prayed for the first time in a long time."
"You did?" I finally hear her muffled little voice under my chin.
I nod. "I prayed you wouldn't leave me."
"I would never," she whispers looking up at me. Her eyes sparkle. There's an entire constellation of stars. She looks from one of my eyes to the other, and they twinkle. "I would never." She repeats. Her hands cup my face and she brings her lips onto mine. She kisses me like she's never meant it so much in her life. It's as if she's trying to tell me over and over, "I would never leave you," with every stroke of her tongue, every brush of her lips. Every worry evaporates through my pores.
She moves forward to the bed until the back of my knees hit the mattress. The contact makes me gasp and we break apart for a few seconds. We're breathing heavily, her forehead now resting on my chin. Her eyes find mine. "Lie back."
My brows furrow, but Rachel shakes her head lightly with a small smile, "Just trust me?"
My eyes close briefly as I take a deep breath. Let go. Let go. Let go. I nod and settle on the bed, moving back and lying in the middle of the mattress. She unties her robe and shrugs it off. She's stunning, in her silly star pajamas and her rustled and imperfect. Everything about her imperfections make her perfect. All loose ends just tie together and form this gorgeous woman right in front of me.
Rachel climbs onto the bed. Her eyes study me, all of me. I suddenly feel naked—even though I'm not too far off. Her fingers trace over my skin. Goosebumps erupt. I sigh heavily. She crawls closer. She's straddling me now, one knee on each side of my hips. The contact soothes me a little.
"You're so beautiful," I whisper, although I swore I thought it only. She smiles. Her hair is dangling over me as she hovers with both hands palms down next to my ears. My hands travel over her sides and chest, landing softly on her face. Her eyes close as I outline every feature on her face.
"Your eyes," I brush my fingertips over her lashes, "they are light the night's sky. Dark and mysterious, but twinkle so bright that I find my way anywhere.
When you lie beneath me," I pause, my fingers over her nose. "When I reach a sweet spot, there's a small, sharp inhale that I love to hear.
And your lips," I chuckle. She bites her bottom one. "Your lips feel like silk and taste like honey." I can't help but bring her closer to me; bring her lips onto mine, as some sort of validation for my own words. Yes, that's accurate. So very accurate. "They make me feel all kinds of things I cannot explain." I kiss her again. "Every time they're on me, I break apart, I melt, I freeze, I come apart at the seems. They destroy me and just when I think—" I grab her face and gently push her back so that I can sit up with her on me, "—just when I think they're the worst thing that could have happened to me, these hands, these arms, your legs, your face, your everything, Rachel—"
My chest constricts and she looks pale. She looks the same as when I left her that night. She looks like she's holding on by a thread. I squeeze her shoulders and then thread my fingers into her hair. I nearly sob aloud, but I need to keep it together. This is so important.
"Rachel, you complete me. You hold me together, you stitch me up. It's like you are the blood coursing through my veins, and without you, I just don't function." She exhales so loudly. She'd been holding her breath the entire time. "It's so fucking scary, to want—no, to need someone this badly. It's so scary to not be able to think about anything or anyone else. You understand that, right?"
I grab her face and brush my thumb over her tear streaked face, "you get it, right, Rachel?"
She nods. I'm trying. I'm trying really hard to say the words, but I'm only walking circles around them. And Rachel is just waiting, itching to hear them. She's already said them twice. Her heart is bare and I sit holding it, holding her in silence.
"God," I look up and I gasp. Fuck, fuck it, fuck it. My eyes meet hers. She's looking at me so expectantly. "Fuck—fuck it," I breathe, "God, fuck it, I just—I love you so much."
I swear it's like an exorcism. This dark cloud has been sucked out of my body along with every ounce of fright and stupidity. All the shackles just disintegrate and I'm fucking free. I'm—fuck, I want to cry.
I kiss her. I kiss her so hard, like I haven't kissed her in a million years and somehow it feels like it still isn't enough. I heard her gasp and I went for it. Her hands grip me so tight for a second before breaking apart from me lifting the large shirt off my body. We crash onto one another full force. It's not enough. It's not enough, it's not enough. I pry off her camisole and let my hands and arms envelop her, trying my best to keep us balanced.
Her teeth rake over my jaw and down my neck desperately and my nails do the same down her back. I need her so much closer. I need her always. I feel her breasts on me, her nipples over my own and—fuck, "I need you, Rachel."
Her sneaky hands peel off my underwear and I take the opportunity to slide hers off as well. Finally, we are completely bare; both literally and figuratively. Everything is in the open and we're ready. I'm ready. "Make love to me, Rachel."
She sinks on top of me. There's an indescribable look upon her face. Her lip is held captive by her teeth shortly before hissing a, "yes," in my ear and continuing her sweet torture on my neck. I feel her hand slip between us and come in contact with my clit. I gasp. Her fingers start slow, elaborate circles and I bring my mouth to her shoulder. I leave big, open mouth kisses over her skin while my hands further explore her naked back.
My hands cup her breasts and she sighs onto my skin. Her breath is scorching hot on my collarbone. I want more of her. So much more. "Rachel," my voice is so hoarse from the crying earlier and the night before.
She moans. "Yes?"
"Can I touch you?"
Her right hand stops its movements between my legs briefly and I whine a little.
"Please?" I beg.
I feel her left hand tighten its grip in my hair when I finally catch her eyes. She kisses me softly, but it's only when I hear her say yes, that I remember what it's like to feel her inside of me. Two digits, pumping painfully slow, in and out of me.
"Fuck." I kiss her back hard as my own fingers settle inside of her and she breaks apart to gasp. We've never done this before. It's messy and uncoordinated, but I've never felt so connected to her than I do now. Her head dips and she rests her forehead in the crook of my neck. I feel her hot breath on my skin once again. I position myself the same way on her; one arm holding her tight against me, the other hand working on her, causing her to elicit such delicious fucking sounds. We move faster and harder and just as I feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge I lift her head. I make her look at me. Her eyes are barely open, her lips ajar and taking small gasps. I know she's almost there, too.
"R-Rachel," I can hardly get the words out.
"Hmm?" She whimpers, pumping deeper. Fuck.
"Come with me."
Her eyebrows furrow and she bites her lip, nodding desperately.
I thrust into her harder, pushing my thumb onto her clit. She does, too. "Now, Rachel. Come now."
"Fuck, Quinn!"
It sounds like an echo in the back of my mind. Her screaming my name like that. We're both just falling in space, surrounded by galaxies and planets and stars. There's explosions of lights behind closed eyelids and sounds of gasping breaths and whispering names. Our bodies stiffened and we rocked back and forth for a few seconds before the release just stole all of our energy. We were like shaken champagne bottles, waiting to erupt. The loud calling of my name, the sound of the cork shooting out of the bottle.
"Oh, God, I love you, I love you, Rachel," my voice is light like the wind.
I can hear her smile, "I love you, too, Quinn. So much."