(Rachel)

I once heard Tia Maria say that it took her 25 years to discover all of Tio Pedro's faults. Or at least that's what she said at the party they threw to celebrate the date. This happened two years ago, when I was still living in Lima, at the time Santana was studying for the test at Stuyvesant. My father was still in a bitter state because of Dad's death and all the family arguments, I was still dating Finn, Quinn was still with Sam, and Santana... I never really knew what her status was with Brittany or Noah. At the party in question, Tia Maria, in one of her rare moments of joking and relaxation, said that after the faults, it would take her another 25 years to discover the advantages and disadvantages of each of them. Because in her view, there was a good side even to certain deviations of character.

I don't know about character deviations, but I certainly started making a list of Quinn's faults, especially after the apartment story. She was right about it being impossible to find a bigger and better apartment than ours in Manhattan for less than 3 thousand. Prices are really abusive on the island and it's no wonder that New York is one of the most expensive cities in the world. Prices get cheaper as you move away from the center, but this almost always involves trade-offs. Those who live in Manhattan, like us, need to consider the cost-benefit ratio of living away from the center. On the other hand, this is the reality for most people.

The apartment in Astoria, Queens, doesn't make things difficult for us when it comes to transportation. The location is good. Not to mention that the property itself is good and the building offers services to the residents. On the other hand, I could have had the same thing in Manhattan, which was my dream. I didn't move to the island because of Quinn, who made a point of splitting the expenses equally and had a spending cap. She said that if she didn't, then our deal wouldn't work and she'd rather stay where she was or even live on her own.

That served as the starting point for my list. Quinn was:

1 - proud;

2 - jealous;

3 - possessive;

4 - manipulative when it suited her;

5 - had an aggressive attitude towards certain things;

6 – she hates my sister;

7 – her family is horrible;

8 - was very concerned about her weight, to the point of counting calories and closing her mouth when she thought she had put on a bit of weight;

9 - was less sociable than she wanted to appear;

10 - hated cats, although she was incapable of mistreating any animal;

11 - eat pork;

12 - was a closet hipster;

13 - she rarely wore jeans because she had a thick leg complex (which, for me, was no fault at all);

14 - she was a terrible cook;

15 - she was jealous and obsessed with her camera (it was true that the camera was a very important working tool, and she was going to major on cinematography at university);

16 - had an annoying habit of disconnecting from the world when she started reading;

17 - didn't like Barbra Streisand! She said she liked her, but I caught her rolling her eyes twice every time I put on a record by my inspirational muse.

Even so, I loved her with all my being, my soul. How could that be?

For me, I would have spent another month looking for a new apartment. For Quinn, I signed a one-year lease. I think this was an example of what my parents, grandparents and uncles talk about so much, the need to give in a little bit when you're in a long-term relationship.

We bought a queen-size bed for ourselves and a full-size bed for Santana. We went to a refurbished second-hand furniture store and bought a sofa (a real one) that was nice and at the same time comfortable for watching TV shows, Netflix and videos. We also bought stools for the kitchen counter, and the rake with the TV panel that matched the rest of the furniture.

Since we signed the lease, we've been cleaning and tidying up the new apartment little by little. Quinn used her money to enlarge some photographs for us to use as a frame. I have to admit that it was cute and modern because the pictures Quinn chose were really beautiful. It was nice to finally have a tidy house where I wouldn't feel embarrassed about bringing people over for dinner or a small reception. What's more, the building's function room was really good for hosting larger parties, and with the advantage that nothing would be destroyed or messed up in the apartment.

As we'd opted first to do as much as possible before moving in for good, and as it was just Quinn and me working on it (because my sister was studying), we took the opportunity to inaugurate every room in the house. We even had sex on top of Santana's new bed: something I was reluctant to do, but apparently Quinn said it would be hilarious. I didn't think it was a good idea, but I didn't say no either. And it was great. The bed was approved.

The days passed quickly, until the moment came when we prepared to move once and for all. Most of my things were already in the new apartment, but Santana, for reasons of time and also unwillingness, was still packing up her things. That's what held us up. I think she did it on purpose, because she knew it would force me to help her. In my almost ex-bedroom, Santana and I boxed up her things and the last of my belongings. There were other boxes in the living room with books, records, photos, clothes and small objects that we had acquired over time. Mike would still be living in the apartment for a week to take advantage of the rent he had already paid. In the meantime, we would sell everything inside at a garage sale, except the sofa: it came free, it goes free.

"It's amazing how much garbage and paper can fit into a single drawer." Santana complained. There were two garbage bags next to her full of paper and other things that would be thrown away.

"It's amazing how you let so much garbage accumulate in a single drawer." I fixed the sentence.

"I don't know why we didn't take that chest of drawers. It's been very useful to us over the years."

"Time to let go."

"It's just..."

"Santy, have you seen the size of your new room? The space? Your new bed? You don't want to take something beat-up and old like that bookcase that takes up almost half of this room in there." I complained. Our bookcase was bought at a garage sale and over time it became a dumping ground for everything imaginable. Even I couldn't keep my half well organized. Santana's half was absolute chaos. "Besides, I'm going to buy you a new desk."

"You can't blame me for being nostalgic."

"Being nostalgic is one thing. Wanting that piece of junk to go with us is quite another."

"I guess I wasn't ready to move so soon."

"It wasn't soon." I put my hand on my sister's shoulder.

"You don't seem so sure." She stared at me defiantly. "You know that things are moving in such a way that you're going to have a married life with Quinn, and my presence in the apartment isn't going to change that."

"Sounds crazy, doesn't it?"

"Are you really sure what you're doing?"

"And when are we sure of something?"

"Right…"

We continued packing. I closed the last box of NYU stuff, but I wasn't sure if I would keep it. I'd hardly be going back to college, and perhaps the destination of that material would be a second-hand bookstore. I still had a list of things to buy for the new house: at least two more sets of sheets for my bed and Santana's, a decent set of plates and cutlery, doing the grocery shop for the new house...

"Tonight/ we are Young." I heard my sister sing softly as she finished cleaning the room. "So let's set the world on the fire/ We can burn brighter/ Than the Sun."

I decided to join the song.

"Now i know that i'm not all that you got." Santana stopped mumbling and paid attention to me. "I guess that i Just thought maybe we could find a ways to fall apart/ but are friends in back/ so let's raise a cup/ cause i found someone to carry me home."

Santana smiled and continued the chorus

"Tonight/ we are Young/ So let's set the world on the fire/ We can burn brighter/ Than the Sun."

I got up and held out my hand to my sister. We started dancing in the room.

"Carry me home tonight/ Just carry me home tonight." I took some of the shredded paper from the garbage bag and threw it on her head like it was confetti. It wasn't adult or appropriate, but what was the problem?

While she was still saying my verses, Santana interceded with the powerful and peculiar voice that she had.

"The moon is my side/ i have no reason to run/ so Will someone come and carry me home tonight/ the angels never arrived/ but i can hear the choir/ so Will someone come and carry me home."

"Mike!" We heard Johnny's voice at the door of our brief ex-room. "Where's the camera we need to record this!"

I turned red with embarrassment. Even though I was an actress ready to take on the stage, these little snaps were still embarrassing. Mike arrived with a huge smile and took a picture of us with his cell phone.

"This is going to be cool." He laughed. "Little souvenir of our moment in New York that I'll love to show everyone."

The problem was that Santana had her hair full of shredded paper with two black garbage bags next to him. Imagine the captions he'd get?

"Delete this shit!" She walked towards Mike pointing her finger. "Delete this shit now!"

Just to tease her, Mike took more pictures. He laughed. Santana jumped on him with her big nails. Startled, Mike threw his cell phone at Johnny and pandemonium broke out.

...

(Quinn)

Mrs. and Mrs. Berry-Lopez Fabray. That's a lot of surnames together, but it doesn't sound so bad. I think I lost track of time in front of the shop window looking at that beautiful sparkly ring. It would be wonderful if I could buy it for my engagement to Rachel. With a little more planning, I'd be able to pay it off in easy installments on my credit card. How torturous it was to walk past the store, look in the window and imagine my married life with her. A real one, without Santana Berry-Lopez living under the same roof.

"Are you looking for something, young lady?" The seller, a middle-aged man, spoke to me on the sidewalk.

"Actually..." An idea crossed my mind. "I'm looking for two simple gold rings."

"We have different types." He said, inviting me in.

There were so many beautiful options for gold rings with stones or white gold. The engagement rings were wonderful. There were also pair rings, worn by people who were in a long-lasting, solid relationship. These were pieces that cost the price of a regular gold ring, and some were even cheaper. I would love to wear a gold ring if Rachel wore the same one, but I had to think about the other side: what if Rachel felt pressured? Finally, following the salesperson's suggestions, I chose a pair of beautiful, discreet silver rings that didn't look like wedding rings because of the detail that made up the infinity symbol.

I was still in college, I got a raise at the production company because, yes, I am very professional and competent. I'm not modest about these things. Rachel dropped out of NYU because "Across The Universe" was a hit among off-Broadway plays with tickets sold out by the beginning of May. So, with more money at home, and Juan helping with the rent, there was no point in us staying in that tiny space with furniture found on the street. It was a place I'll always remember fondly for the good things that happened in it. But we move forward and it was time to take a leap. Hence the move to a beautiful apartment in Astoria.

From the old apartment, I was basically taking only my personal belongings. Rachel and I bought new beds - queen size for us, full size for Santana - and made installments to furnish the apartment at a second-hand furniture store, a good one, which restored before selling. It wasn't possible to buy everything we wanted, but we had a living room set with pieces that were part of the same set: sofa, rack and TV panel; three high stools for meals on the kitchen worktop. There were still a few things missing, such as bedside tables for the bedrooms, the desk for Santana's room, a dressing table for our room, rugs, ornaments, a four-seater table, a sideboard, a side table to make up the living room, or perhaps a small coffee table. These were pieces of furniture and details that could wait a while until we were able to recover from the initial outlay. What I do know is that our apartment, with the bare minimum, was already beautiful. A good dream!

To keep the walls bare, I made posters of some of my photos and had them framed. Rachel and I spent part of the week arranging everything we could of the new furniture in our new home - and doing our private openings in the process, which included Santana's bed - before moving in with the things we'd be bringing from the old apartment. Most of Rachel's and my clothes were already there, so all that was left to do was pack a few books, objects, the rest of the clothes... and, of course, Santana. She had packed absolutely nothing! Not even a hairpin! Her problem, because I, Quinn Fabray, was ready to get out of that shithole as soon as possible.

But when I went up to the old apartment, what I found was Rachel on Johnny's back trying to strangle him, while Santana was lying on the floor laughing like crazy and Mike... he was slumped on top of one of our boxes with a pained expression on his face.

"What's going on here?" I ran over to help Mike off one of my boxes.

"That demon!" Rachel shouted back, still trying to strangle Johnny.

In one swift movement, Johnny bent down and Rachel, slight as she is, literally flew up, somersaulting in the air and landing exactly on top of Santana. Her sister made an effort to get out of the way, but it was no use. I was dealing with a bunch of crazy people. Johnny started laughing in that way that makes you lose your breath. While I let go of Mike and went to help the two sisters, who were already beating each other on the ground and cursing each other in Spanish. I gave up halfway. I sighed. I'd better check the damage to my box of photographs, college books and ornaments. It was no wonder that Mike was in pain.

On the other hand, not every fight and argument could dampen my mood that day. Nothing. I took a deep breath and started packing our last boxes again. There was nothing else of mine in Mike's room, but I still stopped by to take a look. The place was much emptier and it was even a little sad. I went into the twins' room. It was a mess, with shredded papers scattered all over the floor and two boxes were still there: both full of Santana's things still unsealed. I sighed. One contained clothes. The smaller one I wasn't sure what that pile of folders was, but they must have been important. Santana was a mess for many things, except documents.

"Hey." I went back into the living room. "Is that box of folders to throw away?"

"No, you crazy woman!" Santana's eyes widened and the confusion between the four of us ended there.

Although we didn't get out of the apartment until late afternoon, the move went relatively quickly because of the task force we'd set up to pack Santana's things. In addition to Mike and Johnny, my college friend Santiago got a truck, and the boys took care of loading the boxes in record time. Rachel asked to be excused from the play for a day, but that was the nature of the job, even though she kept thinking that the understudy would be better than her. Nonsense. We all took the day off to dedicate to the move: Mike, Johnny and I took time off work, and Santana didn't go to Columbia. Santiago showed up with the truck after classes at NYU (which I missed too).

The distance between Bedford and Astoria wasn't far. We all arrived (truck and cab) at the same time. I was excited. I looked at Rachel and smiled before unlocking the door for good. I didn't even have time to celebrate because the boys and Santana invaded my new living room like tractors. We unloaded the truck straight away and I ordered Santana's boxes to be put in her room for good: I didn't want anything spoiling the landscape of my living room. Rachel's and my few boxes were put in our room. There were still a few left in the truck of things that were going to be donated.

We left our three boxes stacked in a corner of our room. It was going to be a lot of work over the weekend to tidy up. I offered the boys beer. I didn't drink it myself. I hated the taste, but we need to have bottles in the fridge for the sake of the boys and Santana. Rachel also drank sometimes. When I did drink alcohol, I preferred wine or sparkling wine. One glass and that was it. We toasted the new home, me with a bottle of orange juice (because I intended to open the sparkling wine in private). Johnny, Mike and Santiago said goodbye after the beer. Santana sat on the sofa and stared at her new surroundings. She seemed out of place. I could imagine what was going on in her head: leaving an environment she'd set up with practically nothing in her pocket for one she'd earned mainly from her sister's success. And my money. Rachel sat down next to her and ran her hand over Santana's back.

"Afraid to sleep alone?" Rachel teased.

"It's going to be weird after two years of sharing a room with you."

"Let's get to work. We've got a lot of things to tidy up." I cut off the beginnings of sisterly sentimentality.

I refused to open our remaining boxes that same day; on the other hand, Rachel stayed late to help Santana at least put the clothes in the closet in a clean and fragrant state. Rachel and I had already done this part in advance and divided up our spaces. At the end of the night, the three of us devoured a pizza that was half vegetarian and half tuna, and that was our first official meal in the new house. Not very romantic. The worst thing was that I was dying for a slice of pepperoni, but sometimes it was a pain to live with two Jewish girls and the whole not-eating-meat-from-pigs thing. At least Rachel let go of the whole vegan thing and became a normal vegetarian. That made our lives a lot easier.

"I'll have to get up earlier!" Santana rambled.

"Why?" I asked as I enjoyed my tuna with olives.

"To get from here to Columbia, I'll have to take two lines."

"The ironic thing is that you're closer to your university now than before." I observed.

"Can't you take the bus?" Rachel asked.

"I confess I haven't checked the bus's lines."

"You'll get used to it soon!" I said as I ate the last piece of pizza.

"You're still lucky!" Santana said with that annoying petulant tone. "The subway line that runs through here goes right into NYU and Public!"

"Why do you think this apartment was perfect... for us?" I sneered.

"You're disgusting, Fabray!"

"Will you two stop?" Rachel raised her voice.

"I'm tired and my back hurts." Santana stretched out her arms. "I'm going to take a shower and fix my bed." I almost choked on my laughter and saw Rachel look away to the window. Santana looked at us suspiciously and frowned. "You didn't... not in my bed!"

"I'm not going to confirm or deny that information." Rachel said like the true actress she was.

Santana used her bathroom and Rachel took care of the few dirty dishes. I took advantage of the fact that they were both busy to make my own preparations. I went into my bathroom and Rachel's, filled the bath with very hot water and added salts to scent the water. I ran to the kitchen, grabbed the bottle of champagne, two glasses, took off my clothes and changed into my robe. I put the box with the rings under a washcloth and left it within easy reach. Then I waited for Rachel… for almost 20 minutes. What the hell!

"Three dirty glasses got you that far?" I quipped as soon she got into our bedroom.

"Santana hadn't even put the sheets on her new bed and the pillowcases on the pillows..."

"And you, like a good sister, went to help." I approached seductively. "Did you know we didn't debut the bathtub?" I whispered in her ear. I loved the way the hairs on her neck stood on end.

I led her into the bathroom and undressed her between kisses and caresses. When we finally got into the warm, scented water, I took out the ring box and showed it to her. Rachel's eyes went wide. She was speechless. I took out one of the rings and held it in front of her.

"What's this?"

"I'd like to mark this new stage in our relationship." I smiled. "I went to the jewelry store and bought these rings that are worn when the couple thinks their relationship is solid enough. That's how I see our relationship, Rach: steady as a rock. You're the person who makes me happy, who completes me. You're the reason I get up and fight every day to win. Because I know that this battle is worth it when you're by my side. I love you with all my being, Rachel Berry-Lopez. I hope you'll agree to wear this ring and feel a little more committed to me. Because that's how I feel and it only gives me reason to rejoice."

Rachel smiled and kissed me before holding out her direct hand so that I could put on the silver ring. I kissed her hand. It still wasn't the marriage proposal I was thinking of making, but it was a step forward.

"If this were a marriage proposal, it would be the most erotic in history. The two of us, naked like this." She let out a loud, delicious laugh, capable of making any bad mood go away. "Quinn Fabray, you have no idea what you do to me. You're both my ground, my base, and the one who makes my mind wander off into space, who makes me want to float around with all the happiness I feel here." She put my hand on her heart. "When I do those exercises of imagining myself ten years from now, before I visualize myself as a famous actress, the first thing I think of is you. Of being by your side, because, Quinn Fabray, all the fame and wealth in the world pales before love. And you're the one I really love, with all my heart."

I couldn't help the tears of happiness when Rachel put the ring on the finger of my right hand and then kissed it. We kissed and there we began to celebrate the start of a marriage without a priest, without formalities, without registry papers, without witnesses. A marriage of our own, between our souls and hearts.