And all that I've seen means nothing to me

Without you

-Half Light

Quinn had somehow pictured the scene from Love Actually. You know, when Hugh Grant's sexy voice was narrating things about Christmas, September 11 and love while showing moments of reunions in Heathrow Airport and all that emotional crap? Yeah. That one. She expected that. But Emily simply took fast strides from the baggage pick up to customs and before Quinn knew it, they were hailing a cab. No welcome hugs from relatives or friends waiting at the arrival section. Quinn stood still and tried to reorient herself with the right hand-left hand difference of American and UK when Emily poked her head out of the cab, "Hey, get in. We haven't got all day", the brunette laughed. The younger girl grinned and faintly blushed as she was caught with her mouth open and brows furrowed while her eyes where darting everywhere.

"Where to miss?"

"Langham Hotel", Emily said casually as she picked up her phone and wallet. Quinn immediately took out her Lonely Planet Guide to England and searched for the hotel. Holy mother of everything good and true. The blonde's eyes widened then twitched while staring at the photo of a 19th century Victorian building that became temporary homes to Oscar Wilde, Mark Twain and Charles de Gaulle. She's staying in a freaking historic five-star hotel. For free. Emily studied Quinn for a moment while waiting for her father to pick up the call. There was something really adorable about Quinn's wide-eyed naivety— when she thinks she's not being observed— that made her want to keep the blonde, feed her and carry in her pocket. "Hoo ye gannin, Da? …Aye, champion. …. Aye Da, I love me some kidney pie, but …Aye, sir. Ye she's a bonny… Is the witch hyem?"

The blonde looked up and eyed the brunette with curiosity. They've only set foot in English soil for less than a couple of hours and Emily seemed to have transformed into an entirely different person. For one, her accent is in full swing (When Emily tapped her shoulder and told her to look at a particular building, it sounded more like booldin than anything else) but more importantly, she seemed to be speaking an entirely different language. The truth was, Quinn was just lucky that night she met Emily. She had no idea how to distinguish English regional accents. Mentioning Newcastle-upon-Tyne made her sound intelligent; so she went for it. Call it kismet if you want.

Emily was the model of coolth, so at that moment when there was a hint of tenderness and warmth in Emily's voice, everything was foreign to Quinn. She couldn't decide if she liked this side of the older woman better. She had always regarded the woman from a distance. That was easier. Quinn supposed that being home made the brunette more…human without even realizing it.

"Quinn". Emily pulled her lower lip between her teeth and squinted. "Why are you staring at me?'

"Oh. Uh, nothing. Just..trying to figure out if you're speaking Martian.", the blonde mumbled and shifted awkwardly.

The cab driver stifled a laugh then apologized. Emily glanced at the man and smiled. "From the other side of the pond, sir."

"Ah", the cab driver grinned. "Welcome to England, miss"

"Thanks", she responded shyly.

Emily and the cab driver ended up having a friendly conversation while on the way to the hotel. God, this woman is a walking PR. She knows how to make people comfortable, find a common interest and let them fall into a sense of familiarity in five minutes flat.

When they were near the hotel, Emily shoved some money into Quinn's hand and told her to pay the cab while she checked them in. Before the man went back to his car after placing their luggage on the porter's trolley, the driver adjusted his cap and gave a sympathetic look to the blonde, "to be fair, no one really understands the way they talk. Good luck and have a great Christmas." That earned him an extra shilling from Quinn on top of Emily's already generous tip.

Quinn stood next to Emily at the hotel reception and impatiently tapped her fingers on the counter. "Quinn, stop that."

"Stop what?"

"That. That tapping thing you're doing."

"I want to smoke."

"Then step outside and smoke."

"It's too cold."

"Then wait till we get to our room."

"And that's why I'm tapping my fingers. Why's is taking so long?"

"We haven't been here for less than fifteen—Damon, how are you?" Emily smiled widely and hugged a very smooth looking, clean-cut man. "Em! Good God, how long has it been?"

"Quite awhile" She nodded then turned around. "Damon, I'd like you to meet Quinn Fabray. Quinn, this is Damon Paxton, the Marketing Communications Manager of Langham and an old classmate at Cobham."

"Colleagues?", Damon asked while shaking Quinn's hand.

"Something like that", Emily interjected. Quinn raised a questioning brow but Emily gave her a "later" expression.

"I appreciate you arranging our accommodation. I know it's crazy around here at this time."

Damon chuckled. "It's not a problem, Em. Just glad to see you're back home. Had enough of the world?"

"No, not really. Just making a pit-stop for the holidays."

"Ah", he nodded. "Well, let me know if you need anything. I'll try to join you guys later for lunch. Quinn. Nice meeting you."

"What was that all about?", the blonde asked as they make their way to the elevator.

"Damon is the sweetest guy you'll ever meet. But also the biggest gossip. I wouldn't want him to interrogating you all day. And we are not joining him for lunch."

"Duly noted."

Quinn was already stressed out upon realizing they never talked about sleeping arrangements. She was hell bent in controlling herself with Emily but sleeping in one bed won't help her convictions. She's Quinn Fabray, not Jesus Christ. She furrowed her brows—she seemed to be doing that a lot, lately—and…"holy crap..", Quinn gasped at the sight of the suite which consisted of two bedrooms and a separate living room.

"Suites are the only ones left available. Everything else is booked.", the brunette explained as she removed her coat and boots. Quinn looked at her guiltily. "I'm sorry it took me awhile to decide."

"Nonsense. Even if I hadn't thought of including you, I probably would have ended up here. It's the season. So don't fret about it."

"So you don't have a place in London?", Quinn asked in a muffled voice as she scrutinized one of the two marble bathrooms then turned on the exhaust so she can smoke.

"No, never. I used to own one in Surrey." The brunette followed her inside, closed the door and sat at the edge of the bathtub. Lighting her own stick, she continued, "I sold it when I left for New York."

"Em, can I ask you something very personal?"

"Sure. I just can't promise I'll answer.", the older woman chuckled.

"How is it, that you can afford a Park Avenue apartment, pay for this room, while being a full-time student?"

"Well, I think I answered that question. I sold my home before I left. I use that money."

"Okay, but I assume your place in Surrey was, well, pricey if you can sustain this lifestyle. So how did you.." Quinn felt embarrassed for asking those questions, however, the thought always lingered in her mind and she had to get it out of her system.

"Ah", Emily nodded and smiled. "Granda's favorite. Inheritance money."

"You're everyone's favorite, aren't you?"

"Something like that", the brunette shrugged.

"I used to be", Quinn chewed her lip. "Everyone's favorite. When I reached high school, I mean. I made everyone proud."

"Grade school?"

"Invisible"

"So what caused the 180 degree turn?"

"I became…pretty and head cheerleader. Among other things."

"And the remaining 180?"

"I got pregnant", the blonde muttered then looked at Emily.

"Oh.", the older woman's lips twitched upwards. "Where is he? She?"

"She…Beth..she was adopted by Rachel's biological mother."

It was the first time Quinn saw Emily's face contort comically. "Come again?"

"Rachel's—"

"Rachel, as in Rachel Berry, your ex-fiancee Rachel?", Emily asked, dragging every word clearly as possible.

Quinn pursed her lip and nodded with every word. "The one and only."

"So Rachel herself was adopted."

"Yeah, her fathers—"

"Fathers. Oh this gets better." The British woman's mouth gaped amusedly, rested her arms on her thighs and hunched over. "Okay, one more time. Rachel was adopted by a gay couple from a woman who eventually adopted your child", she clarified with her pointer finger jumping from one invisible point to another.

"Correct", the blonde nodded slowly several times.

"And you and Rachel dated."

"Yes."

"Which means you got engaged to a girl who is—in a way— your daughter's sister."

"Well, if you put it that way.."

"You live an interesting life, Quinn Fabray", Emily shook her head in amazement. "You're just giving me the tip of the iceberg, aren't you?", the brunette followed up when Quinn smiled coyly. "So who's the father?"

"My then boyfriend's best friend."

Emily guffawed and clapped her hands. "This is absolutely priceless. Quinn! God. You make me look so tame!"

"Hey! I'm not a wild child."

"Oh, please. Who are you kidding? So who's the real Quinn Fabray? The immaculately clean cheer leader, the one who tied me up in bed or this petulant person standing in front of me? Or she's still hiding?"

Quinn took a long drag from her cigarette and thought about her answer. "I don't know. I guess I'm a little bit of everything. I don't know."

"I think you do", the British woman said with a meaningful expression while pointing a finger at the blonde girl. "I think you're scared of her."

Quinn gave her a soft smile. "I'm scared of a lot of things"

"You know what your problem is? You're such a control freak."

"There's nothing wrong with—"

"Oh, no, no, no. Just no. There's something fundamentally wrong with wanting to control everything, Quinn. Simply because you can't . And at a certain point, you would simply have to accept that."

"At what point did you?"

Maybe it was the early flight and the lack of sleep, but Quinn swore she saw Emily's eyes flash with melancholy. "That's for another time. Right now, I'm in the mood to act as tour guide and that doesn't happen often. "

"Evasive much?"

"I did say I will talk about it some other time. Quinn, I'm not like you. We just really have a tight schedule in London."

"Yeah, we're going to Newcastle after, right?"

"How did you know?"

"Phone, earlier."

"Ah", Emily smiled. "Yes, well, my father will disown me if I don't come home. But you're free to go explore somewhere else if you want and then we'll just meet up again here."

"Nah, I think I'll go with you. I'm very curious how you act in front of your family."

The older woman laughed. "Okay, if that's your thrill."

The next few days were indeed busy. Emily took hospitality seriously; they got around in a chauffeur-driven Jaguar courtesy of the hotel and went around exploring obligatory tourist attractions such as the Royal Albert Hall, Buckingham Palace and Westminster Abby. The next day was more of Quinn's liking, with Emily taking her to unusual spots like the Camden Catacombs and the Wallace Collection. They attended the SOAS function in the evening and as promised, Quinn was in academic nirvana—being able to meet some of the people she actually read left her dumbstruck.

Emily was dead tired. She never really liked playing host. So she got up from her bed and went to the living room with a glass and bottle of brandy in hand. She noticed a faint light coming from Quinn's room so she decided to invite Quinn for a drink. Before she could knock, she heard Quinn murmuring.

"So how's Lima?...Yeah I went to a lot of places…Yeah, it's very cold here…I miss you, too…no, it's alright. I couldn't sleep anyway. I'm glad you called, Rach…no…she's in the other room…yeah, separate rooms, separate beds, separate everything, stop being jealous…it's not cute on you…what's cute? It's cute when you crinkle your nose or when you bite your lip…Yeah, and your eyes. You know that…I told you we're not talking about that…because. Stop that…why are you taking sex advice from Santana? Don't listen to her…no, she's been celibate since they broke up, that's why…I'm serious, she's not slept with anyone since Britt, so she wouldn't know what she's talking about…yeah, tell her I said that. I'm not scared of her."

Emily pursed her lips and smiled. Another side of Quinn Fabray was currently talking to Rachel on the phone—The one that had an unguarded, affectionate tone and giggling at every other sentence. She made up her mind not to disturb the moment and tease Quinn about the conversation tomorrow morning instead.

"I do not have a girlfriend voice." Quinn scowled. "What does that mean, anyway?"

"See, you're reacting and you don't even know what that means", the older woman laughed. Quinn wasn't in a good mood. She barely had any sleep. After an hour, they decided to end their conversation but not without Rachel dropping hints of her being naked under the covers. That kept the blonde's mind working. So being made fun of by a smug-looking British woman about having a girlfriend voice at 6 in the morning was something Quinn didn't find acceptable.

"It doesn't sound good.", Quinn growled before taking a sip from her espresso.

"It simply means you have a particular tone used for your significant other. You were literally cooing. You don't talk that way to other people."

"Considering how annoying you are right now, being sweet with you is the furthest thing on my mind. I'm not even making an issue yet about eavesdropping."

"Point is, you never used that on anyone else, except Rachel. Therefore, girlfriend voice."

"She's not my girlfriend."

"I say to-may-to, you say to-mah-to. Please, you're only deluding yourself into believing you're not in a relationship with her again. When was the last time we had sex?"

"Jesus, use a megaphone will you?", Quinn breathed out while surveying the breakfast buffet area.

"Nobody cares, Quinn. Answer my question."

"Since…well, ever since Rachel and I kissed at the auction."

"Have you kissed or had sex with anyone else?"

"No…"

"I call that being exclusive."

"So, Rach and I are exclusively dating."

"Whatever terminology you're comfortable in describing it, Quinn.", Emily ended, taking a bite from her bacon with a taunting smile. "I'd still say you have a girlfriend voice."

The train trip to Newcastle was relaxing. At least Quinn thought it was since she slept through the whole three hours. Newcastle had an extremely different vibe and felt oddly familiar with it. Maybe it reminded her of Lima. "That's our home", Emily pointed to a huge Victorian house. They didn't bother to go inside with Emily merely transferring their bags from the cab to a Range Rover. "We're not staying here, I'm driving us to Falstone. It should just take an hour or so."

"Why there?"

"Because my father's brilliant idea of holidays with the family is to rent a cottage without servants, and very little house space to avoid each other. Oh and sheep and nature galore so there's nowhere to run and hide."

"It's winter. Everything's frozen and white."

"So pretend we're in the Swiss Alps, hmm? Just the cheaper variety."

"I didn't bring anything for your family."

"So did I", Emily laughed. "That's alright, Quinn. Just, I don't know, charm them with your impeccable manners. Lord knows my parents will be impressed."

"But you have impeccable manners."

"You just wait and see", the brunette chuckled.

They arrived at a two-storey detached stone house surrounded by nothing but a lake and yeah, sheep. Lots of them. Like, if they decided to go and attack Quinn, she would certainly die. The fact that they can stealthily camouflage themselves with snow made it all the more disconcerting. It's a good thing they're nice. But she had seen enough episodes of Pets Gone Wild to have wisdom not to go near them. One of them kept eye contact with the blonde. Oh, you want a staring contest? Bring it on.

"EEEEEM! YA'AALREET?"

That voice certainly disturbed the sheep's peace and lost their contest. Quinn turned around and saw Emily being tackled on the snow-covered ground by a man that looked slightly older than her. Must be the brother. One of them. Emily mentioned once she had two older brothers and a younger sister.

"Yee are fucking evil, Duncan!", Emily screamed. "Ma! Duncan's trying te kill me!"

A tall and lean woman, perhaps in her early to mid-60s stepped outside and chastised Duncan. "You're going to give your sister pneumonia, get her up, Duncan", she said calmly while walking towards Quinn. "You must be Quinn. Come in, lass.", she smiled then ushered the blonde inside. "Let them die in the cold. Those two, always roughhousing. Some things don't change." Emily's mother, Elena, was grace personified and sounded (and looked) a lot like New York-mode Emily. Because the one wrestling her six-foot two brother certainly wasn't that Emily she knew.

Hot chocolate near the fireplace. This is the meaning of heaven. Elena absolutely knew how to pamper her. Quinn wanted to be adopted already. Until something tackled her head. A ragdoll. She heard a small giggle. Turning around, she saw a little girl about five years old standing a few steps behind her. "Hello there", the blonde grinned. "What's your name?"

"Lucie. It's with an I and an E. I always need to say that because I get gifts that spell it with a Y. You know, like Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. But that's okay, I guess, because Daddy—the one Aunt Em is currently punching—loves the Beatles. How about you? What's your name?"

Quinn quirked her eyebrows. Why hello there, Rachel Berry Junior. "Quinn, my name's Quinn. But my full name is Lucy Quinn. With a Y."

"Oh, that makes us namesakes. But it's good that you use Quinn. We won't get confused."

Quinn nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. Do you want hot chocolate?", she offered and pointed at the thermos on the table.

"Did grandma put marshmallows in it? I don't like it with marshmallows."

Quinn examined her mug. "Uh, I don't think so."

"Okay, I'll go get my mug then.", Lucie nodded then ran to the kitchen then sat next to Quinn and dutifully waited for the blonde to pour enough chocolate on her mug. "Thank you"

"How do you like it?"

"Grandma's hot chocolate is always good.", Lucie noted then stared at Quinn. "You have pretty eyes."

"You have beautiful eyes, too", the blonde grinned.

"But not as pretty as yours. It's got brown dots. Mine's plain denim blue"

"Just like your Aunt Emily"

With this, Lucie beamed. "Everyone says I look like her. I like that. She's perfect."

"Is she?"

"Yes. She gives me loads of gifts and always smiles and she dresses really nice" Well, someone's fangirling. It's nice to know it's not just her, Quinn thought as Lucie listed several more attributes she liked in Emily.

"Luce, baby, where did you— Oh, hi. You must be Quinn. Liz, Lucie's mum"

"Hi, nice to—"

"So my daughter's already bonded with you. Duncan here."

"Hel—"

"Oh, and Quinn, this is Ollie, our oldest brother, his wife Sadie and their three boys Zachary, Tobias and Jacob. Yes, they picked them all in the Bible. Still little monsters though."

"That's—"

"Quinn, this is our Da, Matthew"

"Good Mor—"

"Quinn Fabray, yeah? Is that a British surname?"

"It's I—"

"No, sounds Irish to me."

"Yes, my dad's fam—"

"Sadie, your son is drooling over Em's friend."

"Tobias, stop staring at Quinn, that's rude."

"Can I take Quinn to my room, mum?"

"Later sweet cheeks, we'll have lunch first"

"But I just had—"

"Alright, everyone. You're suffocating Quinn already. All of you, dining room. Now."

Finally. Saved by Elena. And where was Emily in all of this? Leaning against the fucking door, laughing quietly and mouthed "impeccable manners" at her.

She mouthed back an "I hate you" before heading to the dining room. Well, they were certainly a rowdy bunch, but Quinn was able to tune out the chaos because of two things; one is Elena's orgasmic beef stew and, two, Lucie sat next to her. They whispered to each other with Lucie complaining about not having a girl playmate in the family and Quinn promising to play with her later.

"I love my cousins. Especially Jacob. Jacob's really nice. But he refuses to play with my dolls. So instead, we dress up and pretend to be in Hogwarts."

"I'll play with you and your dolls later"

"Promise?"

"Promise"

The day went by quickly with Quinn cooped up in Lucie's room all afternoon. If it's possible to fall in love with someone else's kid that fast, the blonde would be the first to provide a testimonial that it could happen. They were in the middle of dressing up Barbie when they were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Quinn? Still alive?"

"Hey, Em", she chuckled. "Very much. Lucie and I are having a blast."

"That's good.", Emily grinned while hugging Lucie. "Well, we're going out in a few minutes to get some beer. Want to go?"

Lucie looked at her and shrugged. "You can go and have some fun with the adults, but please come back later."

"Are you calling me old, Luce?", Emily laughed.

The little girl giggled. "Maybe. But you're a fun old person."

"And Quinn's not old?"

"No", Lucie shook her head.

It was Quinn's turn to shrug.

"Well, I should get you out of here fast before you brainwash my niece completely." Emily kissed the top of Lucie's head. "I promise to bring back Quinn later."

They came back a few hours later right in time for dinner. It was the same chaos until they heard a car pull over. "Oh, here we go.", Emily drawled out.

"Em, do try and be patient.", Elena noted.

"Ma, I've always been—"

"Hello, everyone, sorry I'm late"

This must be the sister. Crap, what's her name again? Layla. There you go. She was Emily's exact opposite. Blonde, like their father, stern looking and had a roughness in her gaze.

There was a drop in temperature as soon as Layla's eyes met Emily's. "Oh. You're here."

"Happy Holidays to you, too, Lay", Emily chuckled then winked at a smirking Duncan whom in return was nudged by his wife.

Layla sat in front of Quinn, and those cold steely eyes made the former HBIC look down on her food. Ollie cleared his throat. "Layla, this is Quinn Fabray, Emily's friend."

"Friend, huh?", Layla smirked. "Emily's never brought home a friend before. You must be special."

"That's because I avoid letting my friends know the defective side of my family.", Emily countered.

"Excuse me?"

"Alright, enough of this, yous. We'll have a nice dinner.", Matthew interjected.

"Kidney pie. How lovely. Em's favorite", Layla sneered. "I hate kidney pie. Of course, Da, Ma, you'd only consider Em's choice."

"I love kidney pie, too", Zachary mumbled then was effectively shushed by Sadie.

Layla was undeterred. In fact, Quinn felt she was on a roll. God, Santana would look like an angel next to this bitch. "Are you planning to drop by Dublin, Em? It's been years since Eoin spent Christmas with you."

It was a human table tennis. Similar to Quinn's earlier encounter but obviously a hundred times less friendly.

"Don't you bring my son—"

"Oh, you actually consider him your son. How enlightening for all of us."

"Lay, that's enough"

"Of course Duncan would come to your rescue. As expected."

"Hey, don't fight in front of us children"

"Zachary, lead your brothers and Lucie inside. Get your plates and finish your dinner in the living room. Now."

"Quinn, maybe you should go with them."

"No, Quinn stays. She's my guest. It's not my fault someone can't check her rudeness out of the door."

"Is it too much for a father to ask for one Christmas without all of this?"

"Considering how unfair you have been, Da. Yes, it's too much."

"Me? Unfair?"

"Da, don't listen to her rubbish."

"It's not rubbish when we all have to work hard and live decent lives while your prodigal daughter comes and goes as she pleases, leave all responsibilities behind and still be the apple of your eye. Do you know Ma's been suffering from highblood?"

"Ma? Is that true? Why haven't you told me?"

"Em, it's not a big deal."

"Of course Ma would say it's not a big deal. She knows you value your lifestyle more."

"Not that I need to defend my lifestyle, but—"

"Yes, let's talk about your lifestyle, Em. How about the fact that you've been constantly bringing shame to this family by having a child at such a young age then—"

"Then what, hmm? Say it, Lay. Say it to my face."

"I have nothing against gay people, Emily. I have something against you dropping everything for—"

"Layla! Enough!"

That sure was forceful. Elena, once again saved the day. "If I hear another word from any of you"

Finally. Détente.

Quinn wanted to go home. Badly. Like take a flight back to Lima and hug her mom. Take a flight back to Lima and tell her father she loved him. She had it good. Really good.

"So, Em.", Ollie spoke in a low and soft voice while drying the plates. "Quinn, huh."

The blonde's ear perked up as she was about to enter the kitchen for a glass of water. Her turn to eavesdrop. It was little over ten and the ceasefire was sustained the whole night filling the house with eerie silence.

"What about her?"

"Newest plaything?"

"She's a lot more than that, Ollie."

The man's eyebrows shot up.

"A little less than that", Emily chuckled.

"So, what, you're.."

"Friends. We're friends."

"Shame. She makes a nice addition to our family. I saw her sneak a scary glare at Layla when she thought no one was looking. I swear, Lay recoiled."

When everyone had retired in their respective rooms, Quinn and Emily stayed in the den drinking beer. Emily felt the need to explain certain things. As to why her mother reacted at a very specific point.

"I was a couple of years older than you. My girlfriend died. Cervical cancer."

There was complete silence for a few minutes until Quinn slowly sat down on the floor and hugged her knees. "H-how old was she.."

"She was 27. It went by so fast. I don't think I even had time to process reality before she was gone."

Quinn calculated the intervals. "So after that, you became a UN volunteer."

Emily nodded as she took a drag. "Yes, I thought, well fuck it. If I'm going to die, I won't die because of some stupid cancer. I would rather be remembered as someone who got killed in crossfire or whatever."

"That's an awful way of remembering how she suffered."

"Evie.", the older woman mumbled.

"Evie", Quinn repeated.

"I was angry at her. Angry for not getting a work up. She hated hospitals and avoided any form of procedures that invade her body.", she chuckled sadly. "I kept thinking if just once. Just once. She listened to me, maybe that would have been..", Emily ended with a sigh.

"What made you change your perspective?"

"Because I got tired of getting angry. Because I realized Evie would have killed me if she knew I was moping around. And mostly because being exposed to poverty and strife made me recognize that I was too damn self-absorbed."

"You still love her?"

"I don't think I'll ever stop loving her."

"Is that..is that why you're just casual with me?"

Emily chuckled. "No"

"Oh. Okay."

"Why? Do you want us to be committed?"

"Uhm, no."

"Thought so. I don't want that, either."

"I know. But why?"

"Don't take this personally, okay?"

"Okay"

"You take yourself…too seriously. You think too much and carry the whole world upon your shoulders."

"How can I not take that personally?"

"Because it simply means you're not my type. Rachel probably thinks that's a major turn on. But not me."

"You had sex with me."

"You're gorgeous. Any person with a pulse would be willing to be in my place. But you aren't my type. I wouldn't think of dating you."

"So, why did you give me your card?"

"Because you were fun that night. I actually thought your sober self would only be slightly different. I was wrong."

"I'm really getting offended by this."

Emily laughed. "No, really. You're not bad. It's just really not the personality I would want to wake up to every morning."

Quinn nodded. That, she understood. She felt oddly relieved to find some clarity in her relationship with Emily.

"Look, Quinn. I was you years ago. Maybe that's why despite my lack of emotional attraction, I decided to keep hanging around. You remind me of myself. Slightly cuter, but yes, very much the same. What I'm trying to say is. Don't wait until it's too late to make that turn to the right. Girls like us, we carry a lot of baggage. And I realized, it's so damn ugly", she laughed dryly. "It makes us so damn ugly and unattractive."

Quinn sat in silence and tried to absorb every word.

"Forget about Rachel for a moment, Quinn. I know she's what fills up your mind. Think about yourself right now. You want to be good to her? Be good to yourself first. Drop your baggage, one by one. Lighten up your load, so when she needs you to carry hers, you'd be able to. You can't expect her to love you when you never really loved her."

"I did."

"No, you were attached to her. Figure out what love really means first."

A/N: Next stop—Lima

You are all so kind. Thank you once again for the comments and reviews.