Jealousy is invariably a symptom of neurotic insecurity – Robert A. Heinlein
Academic Year 2012-2013
She promised she would be friendlier and more amiable to Rachel's friends. But fate certainly was challenging her resolve. The girls were mostly Rachel version 2.0's and the boys were Jesse St. James' clones. She could handle them pretty well. But honestly, someone above must really hate her because why had there been a Finn Hudson wannabe that Rachel failed to mention from the start?
Quinn sipped her wine, quietly seething and measuring up this Kieran Murphy who was awkwardly attempting to make Rachel laugh. No, he didn't look anything like Finn. It was worse because Quinn begrudgingly admitted to herself that he was better looking than the former quarterback. But the personality is what got to her, and as of that moment, he is her least favorite person in the room.
Rachel senses Quinn's tensed stance and slowly reached for her hand. "Are you okay, sweetheart?", she whispered while squeezing the blonde's hand. "Do you want to go home?"
"No, no", Quinn shook her head and squeezed back Rachel's hand for reassurance. "This dinner is important to you", she smiled softly.
The nice thing to being enrolled in an extremely exclusive school is the population alone allows students to bond with their professors who also act as mentors. NYADA certainly valued this kind of interaction. So this dinner was to celebrate the end of semester and they were in one of their professor's home. Bring your significant other was part of the invitation; Rachel wasted no time dolling Quinn up and the former Cheerio treated it as what could possibly be an ominous preview of things to come – namely, red carpet functions.
She certainly felt like a fish out of the water, or to be perfectly frank, like a dying piranha at the Amazon River banks during dry season. She supported Rachel and her dreams and had working knowledge on Broadway. But the discussions were too technical for her that she failed to follow the conversations switching from the Proscenium to Cattle Calls. She once again, tried to channel her mother by smiling and nodding politely – something she had witnessed so many times when her father used to bring his colleagues at home for dinner.
The night would have been relatively easy to endure – the food was certainly gastronomic, Rachel allowing her to draw patterns on her thigh under the table – if not for that Kieran. He wasn't flirting; Quinn knows what flirting entailed. Rachel barely even acknowledged his existence as she noted that brunette was more concerned about making her comfortable. He was just really your average doofus with a dopy smile and gangly physique. And that's really what makes her hate this unassuming guy who had done nothing to deserve the torture scenarios in Quinn's head to pass the time away.
Quinn's attention snapped back to the dinner table when she heard her name and Yale being mentioned in one sentence. Ah. Her girlfriend was bragging about "the big decision" as the brunette fondly and proudly named it. She looked down and tried not to laugh at Rachel's overly dramatic account of how it happened. Quinn honestly felt it was an unspectacular moment resulting from an obvious choice. New Haven was merely a a couple of hours commute by train from New York. In principle, not-so-long distance relationships these days should not have been a problem given technology. But Quinn didn't want to take any chances with her very new and still vulnerable relationship with Rachel. It was a no-brainer, really. Yale, be damned. She would follow Rachel to the moon and back if need be.
"I can't believe your doctors were right on target", Rachel grinned as they waded at Sugar Creek Fishery. The manager was a good friend of Judy and allowed them to hold a picnic in the farm and get their feet wet along with all the Koi being raised for pond owners. Anxiety had begun taking over with the uncertainty of the last summer days and so the blonde decided to pluck the diva out of her normal routine and environment.
The former cheerleader started walking a few days ago without the braces and wore the typical knee support used by most athletes recovering from injuries. Rachel and Quinn were both ready to be in NYADA and Yale respectively and none have spoken about a system to get them by given the distance. Will they Skype every night? Should they get unlimited call plans or limit to texting? Are they supposed to alternately visit each other every weekend? If Rachel had her way, Quinn ought to be texting her every hour but she could never demand that. She's hyperaware of her tendency to be clingy and even for just their friendship alone, the brunette would never risk any chance of annoying the blonde.
Rachel allowed her mind to wander off a bit to a time when she and Finn were planning their life together in New York. She could have been Mrs. Hudson. A part of her felt relieved that the wedding did not push through. There was that nagging doubt that led to asking Quinn for advice, in the first place. It was that doubt that drove her to insisting Quinn to be in her wedding because it meant that for whatever misgivings everyone had on the union, her presence would have meant some form of legitimate approval. The blonde made very valid points, though Rachel now wondered what was Quinn's state of mind that very moment; more importantly, she wondered if the that advice was meant to stop her from marrying Finn simply for her own sake, or if there was an ulterior motive. But whatever the case may be, the tiny diva decided that it must have been so painful for Quinn to have been told of the news and the thought alone made Rachel's stomach churn.
"Rach? Earth to Rachel", Quinn chuckled as she snapped her fingers.
Rachel blushed then ducked her head. "Sorry", she mumbled.
"It's okay…penny for your thoughts?" She worried her lip while watching Rachel's face visibly deliberate on her response. Things, in general, had been good between them. They have yet to have their first major fight despite officially (but not publicly) dating for four months – an achievement for both of them. They spent most times just talking, and the remaining hours getting to know each other in a slightly more physical manner.
There were, however, moments when Quinn would catch Rachel off-guard with a distant eyes and conflicted expression. The blonde knew it had a lot to do with Finn. No matter how Rachel tried convincing her that the break up was a mutual decision. Quinn was not naïve enough to believe that Rachel wanted to end things with Finn. She saw it in those deep brown eyes; the want and need to be with him. Most of the time, the blonde felt lucky that she saw affection from Rachel, however, there are just days when the diva looked at her with a mixture of odd curiosity and – something her mind violently tried to reject - pity.
"I'm not going to Yale", Quinn blurted out before Rachel could give her answer.
"So, Quinn. You chose love over Ivy League. How romantic", one of Rachel's classmates sighed dreamily.
Artists. Everything is romantic for them. Even a dropped sandwich lying on the subway can be romantic for them.
Quinn forced herself out of these thoughts. Great, now everyone's attention is on her."It..it was an easy decision, to be very honest.", she said quietly. "I don't think I can navigate through life without Rachel." It was not the whole truth. Quinn can find her way out of the Amazon jungle. But the blonde knew saying "because I'm scared that Rachel will run back to Finn, so this is my version of keeping her on a tight leash" would not have sat well with anyone. There was collective swooning, Quinn believed. But she didn't really have time to process the information because Rachel leaned forward and kissed her in front of all the people.
"Wow", she whispered against Rachel's lips.
"Looks like Quinn will get lucky tonight"
There you have it. The moment killer courtesy of Finn 2.0. Now, Quinn had a legit reason to hate him.
"Real appropriate, Kieran", Kurt said dryly then rolled his eyes and threw a sympathetic smile at Quinn. She smiled back. The rest of the table chuckled awkwardly.
Quinn and Kurt had not exactly seen each other eye to eye for the most part of their high school life, though their interaction was on the principle of modus Vivendi. The engagement of Rachel and Finn gave them some form of weird and unspoken alliance though it became strained after David tried to kill himself. Quinn still maintained the belief that suicide was never an option, and had continued to harbor some resentment over Kurt's dismissal of what she had gone through.
Their friendship was tentative at best. She wouldn't exactly run to him for advice – she trusted no one but Santana – but at the very least, Kurt seemed to have an inkling of Quinn's fears and insecurities.
"I'll have you know, Kieran, I am the one who feels extremely lucky coming home to her every night", Rachel quipped while subtly rubbing Quinn's arm. "And waking up to this lovely face in the morning."
Really?
Quinn fought the urge to turn into a bright red tomato. And Rachel just didn't notice how her girlfriend's hand tightened her grip on hers. "She was our high school's prettiest girl." She then turns to Kurt, " you'd have to back me up on this one." The boy was about to agree but Rachel cut her off. "No, on second thought, I think it's pretty obvious. "
Grip tighter and maybe she'll stop.
"…And she's going to Fordham next year. Cultural Anthropology, am I right, sweetheart?"
Nod. Nod and smile politely.
"Not to mention that she is a kitchen goddess."
Trophy wife.
Kurt glared at Rachel and that immediately made her shut her mouth then giggled.
And because we love each other, right? Right?
The brunette squeezed Quinn's hand. Quinncentric conversation over.
Pretty soon the night was also over and one by one people left the venue. Quinn's mind was going haywire while Rachel rambled on about nothing and everything.
Will she really get lucky tonight?
They've never had sex. Anyone who would become privy to that information would look at her incredulously. After all, they did share an apartment together since they arrived in New York.
Both agreed to take it slow from the start. Mostly, it was a function of capability. Quinn's knee was still busted when they first started dating until the end of summer. But what was the excuse this time? Rachel had initiated several times but Quinn declined claiming she wasn't ready.
You can take the girl out of a Lutheran Church, but you cannot take the Lutheran out of the girl.
Sex was an act of love and until she was sure Rachel loved her, she refused to further become intimate. Santana had called her out on that several times. Emotional blackmail. But Quinn countered it by saying she never pressured Rachel to say she loved her.
And it's not like she's ever told Rachel she loved her, either. She was crippled with fear that the brunette will not say it back. She knew Rachel would not say it back.
Slow was an understatement. And communicating about it was a scarce commodity.
So they literally slept together in one bed. Their situation was more akin to two friends who occasionally make out.
Rachel, on the other hand, simply attributed it to Quinn's upbringing. That was much easier to accept than to start thinking that while the blonde loved her, she didn't want her. That could happen, she reasoned to herself. Quinn may not be physically attracted to her. After all, the former HBIC did spend some time insulting her physical attributes. This is the first time that she had been in a relationship where her partner's hand stayed firmly on her hips. And that was very confusing.
The more Quinn declined her advances, the more she was swayed to her own logic and so she had temporarily stopped groping her girlfriend's ass whenever things got a bit heated. She would wait for Quinn to take the initiative, and if that little thumb rubs on her thigh she received while having dinner was a sign? Well.
Rachel smirked to herself. Walking beside her is Quinn Fabray – currently (and adorably) trying to loop their arms together– the most beautiful girl she had ever known. Being in New York had not changed her opinion; in fact it had gotten stronger. Her girlfriend was Grace Kelly incarnate with a dorky personality. She didn't know if anyone else's girlfriend can top that.
"D'you want to stop for coffee, first?", Quinn jerked her head towards the direction of a coffee shop.
"Mmm…I'm in a mood for some Café Au Fabray", Rachel responded, feeling particularly proud of her cheeky remark. But when the blonde raised her eyebrows and blinked several times, the brunette's eyes widened and blushed profusely. "I- I meant, I wanted you to make me coffee at home", she giggled nervously. Quinn bit her inner cheek to stop herself from laughing. She knew better than to tease an already embarrassed Rachel, albeit self-inflicted. Clearing her throat, she nodded and rubbed the brunette's wrist. "Do you have plans tomorrow?"
"Nothing specific. Why?"
"I thought we could go to the Met? There's a new exhibit on Egyptian artifacts"
Rachel scrunched up her nose. "You and your fascination with old things. I hope there aren't actual mummies."
"If there were?"
"Then my stomach will ache at exactly 9 a.m tomorrow"
Quinn laughed raucously. "There won't be any mummies. So you can delay your scheduled indisposed state for another day."
Rachel smirked and nodded. "Quinn, I'd like to thank you for keeping me company tonight. I know how uncomfortable –"
"Rach, you don't have to thank me. Like I said earlier, I know this is important for you"
The brunette nodded again then furrowed her brows. "So…why do you not go out with me with my friends?"
"Nothing to do with your career", Quinn said curtly. "And you know I don't like bars and pubs; especially any establishment that plays tugs"
"tugs?"
"You know, tugs, tugs, tugs. All you hear is bass."
Rachel howled with laughter that slightly mortified Quinn as fellow pedestrians glanced at them curiously. "Quinn, that is the most adorable thing ever."
"What?", Quinn protested. "But it's true! The music – if you can even call that music – is annoying"
Rachel looped their arms together as they turn around their street's corner then popped her shoulders and moved her head side to side. "Tugs, tugs, tugs"
"Oh my god, Rachel. Stop that!", Quinn chuckled and stepped away from the brunette. "I don't know you."
"Aw, come on, Quinn. Show me your hip hop moves! One more time. Tugs, tugs, tugs!"
"Shut up", the blonde cackled then playfully shoved Rachel who seemed to be more determined to tease her. The bantering went on until they reached their apartment and the diva decided to try it one more time. "Okay, so if tugs music", she smirked, "is a no-no. I know lots of places where music and atmosphere are more your type."
"Rachel, you don't even know what my type of music is", Quinn said softly while preparing coffee.
"Yes, I do". The diva frowned. Did the blonde just imply she was not the least interested in her girlfriend's interests? That pierced Rachel's heart. "Give me a little bit more credit, Quinn."
The former Cheerio scoffed. "Rea—"
"You have a fascination – no obsession – with World Music." Quinn snapped her head towards Rachel's direction. "You like browsing through, and buying digital music from cdbaby dot com for independent artists. And just the other day you kept humming TwentyFourSeven by that UK garage techno band Artful Dodger." She crossed her arms and looked down. "Just because I don't know three fourths of the artists in your playlist, doesn't mean I don't try to appreciate them."
"Rachel..", Quinn stepped forward. "I'm sorry. I didn't – I wasn't –"
"It's alright, Quinn."
"No, it's not", the blonde said as she held Rachel's wrist who tried to turn away. "I'm sorry", she mumbled before kissing the brunette's shoulder. "I didn't mean to snap at you that way."
"It's not.." Rachel breathed in. "It's not that, Quinn. I need you to have some faith in me."
"I do", the blonde hugged from behind and kissed the back of her head. "I didn't mean it the way it sounded. I swear."
The smaller girl sighed. "Okay." She turned around slowly and stood on her toes, kissing Quinn softly. "Less tugs and more vuvuzela, yeah?"
The other girl chuckled and nodded, "Yes, something like that."
"Just the two of us, first. Okay? Maybe with Santana, if you want"
Quinn chewed her lip. "Okay."
The smile on Rachel's face lit up the room. She then yanked the taller girl's hand. "Serve me up coffee in bed?"
Apparently, Kieran was somehow right. After Quinn placed their coffee cups on the night table, she found herself fumbling as Rachel pulled her in their bed aggressively then gave her frenzied kisses that the blonde had tried to fend off. "Rachel..Rach—wait. I'm not—Oh god, that feels amazing."
Letting go of Quinn's lobe, Rachel whispered huskily, "We don't have to do things you're not ready to do. We can take it one step at a time. I'll navigate for us."
Oh. So Rachel did like what she said earlier. Very much.
Quinn nodded in response.
Meanwhile, somewhere, Martin Luther was shaking his head.
A/N: Click the comment/review button and let me know your thoughts (: Have a good day.