Lips meet teeth and tongue
My heart skips eight beats at once
If we were meant to be, we would’ve been by now
See what you wanna see, but all I see is him right now
Go ahead and watch my heart burn
With the fire that you started in me
But I’ll never let you back to put it out
~Billie Eilish, Watch
Everything is okay.
Until it isn’t.
Really, Rachel whole-heartedly blames Quinn for this.
She had finally decided on marrying Finn, because he loves her, and when you love someone, you want to be with them in every way.
It’s only right.
But it’s not.
Rachel ignores the nagging voice that’s always there, telling her that she’s making the biggest mistake of her life, and continues to prepare dinner for when Finn’s going to come over later.
They’re going to have a romantic date, curl up on the couch to watch a movie, and then she’s going to be assured that her choice is the correct one, and with it, agree to marry him.
Rachel Berry is going to marry Finn Hudson.
Until Quinn Fabray comes knocking, and then she isn’t.
This is all Quinn’s fault.
Her doorbell rings at five, which is odd, because Finn’s supposed to come over at seven, but she chalks it up to him wanting to spend more time together, or, if she were to put it less eloquently, make out with her.
The thought doesn’t elicit as much happiness in her as it should.
Shaking her head to clear her raging thoughts, she opens the door, only to find Quinn, standing on her doorstep with a pensive look on her face, hands nervously wrung.
She almost wants to close the door like she didn’t see anyone, because fuck, she doesn’t need Quinn Fabray and all her truths and drama right now, just when she’s convinced herself that marrying Finn is what she needs.
A few seconds pass, and the blonde still doesn’t speak. Rachel really should just politely send her on her way by slamming the door shut in Quinn’s face, but for some unforeseeable reason (her brain totally doesn’t call her out at this), she still cares for the girl, and she steps out to her front porch, prompting, “Quinn?”
“Don’t marry Finn.”
Quinn blurts it out in a rush, as if she’s afraid that she won’t be able to finish her sentence. A beat passes, and she exhales, her trademark poker face flickering back on, and she finally meets Rachel’s eyes, breathing out, “Please.”
Rachel crosses her arms over her chest, and she forces herself to look away from those captivating pools of hazel, always expressive and passionate. She knows that she’ll adhere to Quinn’s wishes in a heartbeat if she does.
“Quinn, I understand that you do not approve of my decision to marry Finn, but he loves me, and I’m going to marry him. Please don’t try to change my mind.”
I’m afraid that I’ll do end up changing it if you do.
She forces herself to deliver her words firmly, but it’s no use – hell, even she’s having a hard time trying to convince herself, and she did never could cover up her emotions when she needed to, acting skills be damned.
Quinn sees right through her.
She always does.
If anything, Rachel’s words only spur her on. Undeterred, Quinn gains a bit more bravado and stands straighter, determined to make her point. “Rachel, I’m not going to stand by and watch you throw your life away on Finn Hudson of all things!”
“Look, I- I know that you’re only doing this because you want him back, but he proposed to me, okay?” the diva tries her best not to sound like she’s stammering, “And I’m going to accept, and- and there’s nothing you can do about it, you might as well go to his doorstep instead!”
It turns out that that was exactly the wrong thing to say, because the next second, Quinn’s jaw is clenching and her eyes flare to life, a bitter scorn enwrapped in hazel. “You…You never understand, do you?” She shakes her head ruefully. “Even after so long, it’s always about Finn. Don’t you get it? I never wanted him!”
“Then make me understand then!” A sudden anger fuels her words, and Rachel just wants to unleash it all at something. Anger at what, she doesn’t know, but Quinn is there, and Rachel is so, so tired of just wanting someone love her, to appreciate her even with all her faults, to hold her when she’s breaking down.
Finn says that he loves her, and Rachel will believe it.
She’ll break if it doesn’t.
“He’s not good enough for you!” Quinn’s knuckles turn white, and for a second, the singer is afraid that she’ll punch her, but then, an array of emotions flicker across the blonde’s sculpted features, too fast for her to identify, and her fists relax, if only slightly.
Rachel deems it safe enough to scoff, “Yes, because there’s just a line of people waiting for me!”
That seems to light the fire in Quinn once more, and the diva almost breathes a sigh of relief, because this is familiar, the dance that they’ve long since perfected, unlike when she has no iota of an idea as to what’s happening in Quinn Fabray’s beautiful blonde head.
She should’ve known that her wistful thinking wouldn’t last.
Because a realization shows itself on Quinn’s face, and the taller girl’s next words are so much worse than Rachel could’ve imagined.
“You’re settling, aren’t you?” Quinn laughs in disbelief, before her voice turns piercing and accusatory. “You’re settling for Finn and his mediocrity, because you’re afraid that no one else will have you!”
It really ought to be a warning sign that her first thought isn’t to defend her boyfriend/fiancé, but rather, to come up with excuses as to why she isn’t settling.
She loves Finn, and that’s why she’s marrying him.
She isn’t settling.
(The voice in her head calls her a big fat liar.)
“You’re settling because you haven’t got your NYADA letter yet, and you’re scared of going to New York alone, so you’re clinging onto Finn ‘Small-town boy’ Hudson like a fucking lifeline,” Quinn continues, seemingly unable to stop now that she’s going. “You’ve built yourself a perfect fantasy of taking Broadway by storm with your leading man, and now that it might be jeopardized, you’re holding on to what jagged pieces you can get!”
An inferno rages within Rachel, thoughts a jumbled incoherent mess, and she curses Quinn for making so much sense. What right did she have, coming over here with her first-class ticket to Yale, while Rachel can barely keep it together?
“So maybe I am!” she spits, “Finn’s the only one who will love someone like me, so I’m going to hang onto him with all I have! If I don’t marry him, he’s going to leave, and then I’ll be all alone, like I always am!”
All the fight seems to deflate from the brunette, and she whispers brokenly into the chilly night air, “I just want someone to love me. Is that so wrong?”
With those words, Quinn freezes in her place, and the blonde softens, a conflicted expression on her face.
“I don’t need your pity Quinn,” Rachel wraps her arms around herself protectively, trying to make herself as small as she can. “Go ahead. Laugh at me. It must feel good knowing that you were right, that the loud-mouthed diva can’t even make it to New York, let alone get someone to love her.”
Quinn doesn’t speak for a long time, and the singer can only stare at her slipper-clad feet with stinging eyes, fighting to keep her tears in.
The last thing Rachel expects is a pair of warm arms encircling her body.
Actually, scratch that, the last thing Rachel expects is what Quinn says next.
“You deserve so much more than that.”
It’s deathly quiet, so softly spoken that it might have been stolen away by the gentle breeze of the wind, if the blonde hadn’t whispered it right against Rachel’s ear, sending shivers down her spine.
She doesn’t know how to respond, because no one has ever said something quite like that to her so sincerely, not even Finn, and really, that should’ve been another red flag long ago.
Rachel knows that she should pull away, now, before she shatters completely, but she can’t move. It’s entirely too comfortable and warm, and she feels safe, cherished even, a feeling that has long eluded her.
Somehow, it doesn’t scare the shit out of her that she wouldn’t mind shattering in these strong arms.
It’s all the implications of that that do.
Because her mind starts drawing up comparisons between Quinn’s embrace and Finn’s, and it’s a dangerous road, she knows as much, but with her heart racing and beating with a warmth she hasn’t felt in ages, maybe even forever, she can’t stop her train of thought.
Finn is tall and lanky, and it would be like being crushed under a giant rock whenever he would sling an arm around her. Hell, her neck would be sore after kissing him, even when she would stand on her tippy-toes.
It’s not like that with Quinn.
(The fact that she might be thinking of how it would feel to kiss Quinn is promptly compartmentalized and ignored.)
Quinn’s arms are gentle around her, deliberate instead of careless. It’s almost like she’s choosing to protect the brunette, even though she could crush her in an instant. Her hands rub soothingly in patterns on her sides, unlike when Finn would just awkwardly pat her down in an attempt to make her feel better.
Rachel’s head rests right on the other girl’s shoulder perfectly, whereas she would be uncomfortably smothered in Finn’s chest, practically suffocating, and she fights the immense urge to snuggle into Quinn’s neck and inhale her scent, to consume and explore every part of her.
Their curves press into each other in all the right ways, and Quinn is just so soft, even though with each flex of her muscles, the diva can feel the raw power coursing through them.
Suddenly, she feels a pleasant pressure against her head, and that’s when she realizes that Quinn had pressed a kiss there.
Rachel can’t tell if her racing heart is from terror or warmth, or even both.
Because she just had Quinn Fabray’s lips on her.
And it felt so, so good.
Million times better than Finn’s sloppy kisses.
The sense of reason in her screams at her to let go, right fucking now, but she can’t bring herself to listen. It doesn’t take much for her to realize that she’d do anything to feel those soft lips against her again, and she has no idea what to do with that information.
Especially when Quinn starts to speak again, words like Plato in its eloquence.
“Rachel,” the blonde starts, voice filled with so much emotion that the diva can hardly believe it’s being used on her name. “You- You deserve everything. You deserve someone who’ll take all your flaws and quirks and turn them into endearments instead, someone who’ll never take you for granted and love you with all their heart.
“You deserve someone who can’t go to sleep without texting you goodnight, and will bring you flowers randomly just because, wanting to show how much they appreciate and love you, to thank you for giving them a chance to make you happy, without any selfish or ulterior motives.
“You deserve the world, Rachel, and Finn Hudson can’t and won’t be able to give you that. You shouldn’t be with a guy that can barely remember you’re vegan, let alone the little factoids that he tunes out when you ramble, like how you’ve been the undefeated Scrabble champion at your family’s weekly Berryfest for six years, or how you attend Pride Parades over at the next town every year during pride month.”
It looks like Quinn is going to continue, but Rachel just can’t stay silent anymore, because she’s only brought up those facts once, years ago, and somehow, the ex-Cheerio remembered. Pulling away slightly to meet hazel eyes compassionately staring back, still unwilling to leave her warmth just yet, the singer breathes out, breathless, “You remembered?”
Quinn colors, eyes darting away, and she seems almost bashful for a few seconds, sending warm flutters to Rachel’s stomach. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Rachel swoons. There’s no way around it. The brunette’s heart starts racing a mile a minute, she feels pleasantly light-headed, and her breath catches, throat suddenly dry.
This is the point where Rachel admits to herself that she’s in deep, and the panic finally makes itself known, kicking in at full-force.
Because what Quinn had said were probably the sweetest and most heartfelt words the diva’s ever heard, and when she feels that shift in her heart, she knows that this is going to end horribly, most likely with tears.
She’s going to marry Finn.
She’s going to be Mrs. Hudson.
There’s only that, and nothing else.
But there is.
“No one like that will ever want me,” she frantically tries to reason – anything that will keep her from thinking about her decision to marry Finn, “I’m self-centered, verbose, clingy-”
“You’re ambitious, cute when you ramble, and who said being clingy was a bad thing?” Quinn cuts her off, “Being with you 24/7 sounds good to me, and Finn’s an idiot if he says otherwise.”
It’s clear the blonde didn’t mean to let the last part slip, what with her eyes slightly widening, but Rachel really doesn’t want to unpack all of that right now, knowing that she’ll go crazy thinking about it. “Who said that Finn was the one who called me those things?” she says instead, though it’s not at all convincing.
In response, Quinn merely looks at her dryly with a perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised, and the brunette is unable to stop her head ducking sheepishly. “Okay, Finn was the one who said that,” she mumbles, “But it’s true.”
The taller girl huddles even closer, forcing Rachel to look at her. “That’s exactly why he doesn’t deserve a fraction of your time,” she scowls, narrowing her eyes. “He should be telling you that he loves how attached you get when you love with all your heart, and not make you feel less for what you are.”
“And what am I?” the singer can’t help but ask, voice incredibly small.
“You’re Rachel Barbra Berry,” Quinn smiles as if that explains everything, before she freezes in thought for a few seconds, and it seems like she reaches a resolution, continuing, “You’re smart, gorgeous, talented, caring, kind – who wouldn’t want you?”
Rachel huffs bitterly, “The entire state, maybe?”
“Rachel, you’re so much bigger than Lima, and you know it,” the taller girl expresses with her eyes shining, looking so convicted in it that Rachel can barely breathe. “You’re bigger than Finn, me, and all of us. One day in New York, you’ll find someone who can appreciate all of you and all of your perfect imperfections, not someone who can barely make out for ten minutes without thinking of the fucking mailman, and you’ll finally get what you deserve.”
The diva shouldn’t ask what she wants to.
It’ll only end in heartbreak.
But damn Quinn and her beautifully crafted words for giving her hope.
“Someone like you?”
Rachel hopes that the blonde will mock her. Revert to her old HBIC self, call her manhands, hit her – anything – to shut down her insistent heart that dared to dream.
But Quinn doesn’t say anything.
Her body stiffens, face contorting in terror, and right at that moment, Rachel knows.
Forcing herself to pull away from the ever-encompassing pool of warmth, she shakes her head in denial, breathing getting heavier. “No.”
“No!” she cuts the ex-cheerleader off, “Tell me it isn’t true. Tell me-Tell me that this is just a prank, one last attempt to humiliate me. Tell me that you don’t have- you don’t have feelings for me.”
Quinn can only stare at her with something akin to pleading eyes.
No. There’s no way.
“You-You hate me, dammit!”
An absolutely anguished look on her face, Quinn shrinks into herself. “I’m sorry,” she mummers, “I’m-I’m so sorry Rachel.”
They both know that the apology means a lot more than it should, and Rachel feels her heart shatter, tearing itself apart at the seams. “Stop,” she croaks, voice cracking. “Please stop.”
Quinn looks halfway to tears as well, and the image sends even more pangs of intangible pain to Rachel’s chest. She doesn’t know which is worse – knowing that Quinn had- has feelings for her, or that she couldn’t quite bury her own.
Fuck, she’s supposed to be marrying Finn!
They’re going to get married, and then they’ll go to New York, and then they’ll live happily ever after. He loves her, and she loves him.
But not in love, the voice in her brain haunts her.
Rachel can’t focus, and she can’t think, and she can’t breathe, because everything is clicking together and blurring set lines, and she just can’t-
A pair of steady arms come to snap her out of her incoming panic attack, and the brunette sucks in rapid breaths, throat clawing for air.
“I won’t come to talk to you again,” Quinn softly speaks, an expression on her face that can only be described as pure heartbreak, that of one who had gambled everything and lost. “Just…Just don’t settle for Finn Hudson and his small-town dreams. You’re worth so much more than that, so don’t think that he’s the best that you can do…No one is. Please.”
Rachel can’t say anything, throat tight.
She can only watch as Quinn walks away, head hung.
Even after the blonde’s back long disappears, she still stands on her front porch, looking into the dark night with her eyes wet.
When Rachel will look back at this, years from now, she’ll know that this is the moment she knows that she will never marry Finn Hudson.
The date is an utter disaster.
It’s a complete, total, sheer clusterfuck of epic proportions, and there’s no other way to say it.
After Quinn leaves, Rachel tries her best to keep it together, make herself presentable, and finish preparing dinner for her and Finn.
She cries straight for an hour into her pillow.
But alas, she forces herself out of bed, because she had chosen Finn, and she’s going to have to keep him.
(She ignores the voice that tells her she’d never have to work to keep Quinn.)
She somewhat covers her puffy red eyes, finishes baking her pie, and she tries to convince herself that she chose correctly.
Quinn’s just saying those things. She can’t back them up. It’s impossible for someone to love Rachel the way the ex-cheerleader described.
At least Finn is familiar, and she knows him. She can keep him around by marrying him, and she won’t be alone.
Everything will be fine.
It doesn’t turn out fine.
“I hate you,” Rachel rasps the moment she hears the call go through, struggling to keep in her sobs.
There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the line, and she instantly feels bad, making her cry even harder.
“I’m sorry- I just- I-” She takes in a large breath. “…I broke it off with Finn.”
There’s silence for a few seconds, and Rachel’s afraid that Quinn’s hung up, that the blonde had finally decided that she isn’t worth the time and effort. The singer is fully aware of how unfair she’s being, calling the other girl just when she had already chosen, but it’s not like Quinn hadn’t done anything wrong either.
Thinking of it like they’re supposed to be even on some sort of balancing scale makes her feel even guiltier, but for once, she’s just going with the flow, no schemes or machinates in place. Quinn told her that she deserved everything, so she’s going to see if she deserves happiness.
And right now, her gut is telling her that happiness equates to Quinn.
“I’m coming in five,” the voice from her phone rings out, and Rachel doesn’t know if the swell in her chest is hope and relief or dread and despair.
The call disconnects, and she tries her best to stop her hysteric mix of sobs and sniffles, to drown out the endless replays of Finn’s voice throwing cruel words at her like blades.
Her pillow is practically flooded with her tears at this point, and she’s sure she looks like a zombie under her covers, but she can’t bring herself to stop.
Her head is filled with Finn’s accusations and actions, and her heart aches at a loss that she’s not sure is good or bad, because she might have Quinn now.
She’d chosen once and lost; she can only hope that she didn’t just make that mistake again.
She doesn’t know how much time passes, but she hears the front door she left unlocked open and close, and soon enough, her body shaking with silent sobs is enwrapped by a warm and soft one, slipping under the covers to meet her.
Turning over to bury her head into Quinn’s neck, she’s unable to keep in a strangled cry, and the blonde presses into her even closer, hands moving up and down her sides.
“What do you need?” the ex-Cheerio asks gently, fingers slowly running through her hair.
For you to tell me that everything will be fine, that I’m okay.
For you to love me.
But she doesn’t- she can’t voice those thoughts out, so she tries to move even closer, if that’s even possible, and it seems like Quinn gets the message, the other girl shifting to allow maximum amount of contact, hip to hip and chest to chest.
It seems almost surreal, that a few days ago, they weren’t even talking on a regular basis, and now, the ex-cheerleader is holding her, with things like feelings floating through the air.
Somehow, it doesn’t seem rushed or forced – rather, it’s like all the pieces had finally fell into place, them finally getting the chance to start at the starting line without tripping.
Rachel cries into Quinn’s neck for god knows how long, trying her best to muffle her sniffles as the blonde soothingly whispers quiet assurances to her.
Pulling herself together enough to draw back, just a slight bit, the shorter girl finally brings herself to choke out, “He…He brought me chocolate.”
“What?” Quinn furrows her brow, confused. “…Isn’t that a good thing?”
Rachel lets out a half-sob half-laugh. “It was non-vegan. And then when I reminded him that, he tried to get me to eat it anyway, saying that I shouldn’t waste his money.”
She feels rather than hears the blonde’s answering growl, and her heart gets a little less pained with the knowledge that someone cares. “And then- And then he forgot to bring the ring, and when I said that I needed more time to think, he- he got angry, and he just- he did so many other things, and I couldn’t- I just couldn’t do it anymore, and-”
A choked sob makes its way out of her throat with a sharp intake of breath, and Quinn moves to cover even more of Rachel’s petite form, cradling her as if she’s trying to protect her. “He’s a dickhead, forget about him.”
The blonde presses a kiss to her forehead, and the singer’s breath stops, because fuck, skin to skin contact felt so good, and she so very wanted to feel it again.
The taller girl seems to interpret it as a sign of uncomfortableness though, and she pulls away immediately, leaving Rachel missing her warm touch at once, craving it again.
Unsatisfied, the brunette plops over to drape herself over Quinn, and she with a breathless tilt to her voice, she says, “Do it again.”
This time, the ex-Cheerio kisses her on the cheek, near the corner of her mouth, and it makes her feel delirious, high on the addictive drug that is Quinn Fabray.
“Is…Is this okay?” Quinn questions, almost shyly, and Rachel’s can’t contain the fluttering in her stomach at the picture.
“More than,” Rachel tentatively shoots the taller girl a smile, with Finn pretty much now off her mind. Seeing the big wet stain she left on the other girl’s shirt, she winces. “I’m sorry for ruining your shirt…god, I must look like such a mess right now.”
“I think you look absolutely drop-dead beautiful.” Quinn counters, in that sincere and earnest way of hers, and the diva’s heart seems to fly out of her chest, warmth spreading to every inch of her tiny body. “And you know that you can always count on me to give you a ‘straightforward and thoughtful’ answer.”
The callback to their conversation before triggers Rachel to recall Finn and his actions, and she grimaces. The taller girl holding her notices, and her face twists in guilt. “I’m sorry…Too soon?”
“It’s okay,” Rachel’s throat bobs tightly, and she snuggles further into Quinn’s embrace in search for comfort. “I have to process and deal with the breaku- it eventually…and frankly, I’d much rather have you to help me face it.”
She admits the last part timidly, still not quite believing that Quinn Fabray is in her bed right now, but the delighted small grin on the blonde’s face is all worth it.
Slowly, Quinn untangles herself from their mess of limbs, and Rachel frowns, “Where are you going?”
There’s a secretive look to the ex-cheerleader’s face as she walks out of the door. “You’ll see.”
You see, Rachel isn’t a patient person. Yes, she can be with some things, but all in all, she doesn’t like not having an itinerary to guide her.
Which is why she spends the next three minutes pouting like tomorrow.
It’s honestly unnerving how quickly Quinn could get her mood up – the last time Rachel had broken up with Finn, she had spent an entire weekend bawling her eyes out, her dads’ attempt to comfort her futile, but just a while with the pale Fabray had the brunette almost back to normal.
It doesn’t scare her like it should.
Thankfully, before Rachel can overanalyze that fact, Quinn comes back in, a DVD tucked under her arm, with her hands occupied with two giant pints of ice-cream.
The singer looks on curiously as Quinn puts the disc on, and settles next to her to set up some pillows. “What are you doing?”
The ex-cheerleader arches an eyebrow at her, and as the menu of Mean Girls comes to life and Rachel’s handed one of the pints of ice-cream, she finally understands, mouth parting in a silent ‘ohh’.
“Mean Girls always cheers me up so I’d thought you’d like it,” Quinn shrugs. “And the reason why I was a few minutes late here was because I had to find a place still open that sold vegan ice-cream.”
Looking at the vegan pint that the blonde was holding, Rachel frowns, “You know you don’t have to cater to my food preferences, Quinn.”
“It’s cool,” Quinn brushes it off, “Though I did put non-vegan ice-cream in the fridge if you need it.”
Floored by how sweet and thoughtful the other girl’s being, Rachel can only stare at Quinn with awe-struck eyes. Finn would never-
She stops her line of thought immediately, but the insistent pain that follows with her still fresh memories strikes hard at her chest, and she instinctively shrinks into herself.
Quinn notices, and she nudges the brunette’s side with a concerned, “You okay?”
Rachel draws out a breath, and she gives a stiff nod.
Seeming to understand that she just needed to forget everything for a little bit, the ex-cheerleader says nothing, only moving to play the movie before curling against the diva’s body in a comforting gesture.
Reveling in the warmth that Quinn radiates, Rachel lets out a small sigh, and as Lindsay Lohan begins to narrate the start of the film, the small singer starts to dig into her ice-cream, pushing her painful thoughts of Finn away for now.
She has no doubt that the blonde girl next to her is going to force her to talk about the breakup the next morning, but for now, she’s thankful for the short reprieve that she’s being granted, and she burrows herself even closer to Quinn, needing even more contact.
She doesn’t know what exactly is happening between them right now, but for once, she feels settled and grounded, simply content to let everything play out. She’s starting to come to terms with her own feelings for Quinn, and in turn, said girl’s feelings too.
(This is the part where her heart skips multiple beats, because holy fuck Quinn Fabray – the prettiest girl she’s ever met – has feelings for her, and even thinking the thought makes her feel invincible, as if she’s floating on helium.)
She’s realized that her breakup with Finn was long-coming at this point, and suddenly, she’s grateful that Quinn stopped it from being a divorce in the future.
Quinn chose her.
The thought sends a delicious hum through Rachel’s body, and she shifts, unable to keep her energy in.
Seeing the wide smile on the singer’s face, Quinn’s unable to keep her lips from quirking up, and the image is just so adorable that Rachel’s hit with the immense urge to kiss the girl and never let go.
Eyes locked with the other’s, the moment suddenly becomes charged with electricity, and the diva finds herself unable to breathe, Quinn’s stunning beauty blinding her. She can’t help but drag her tongue over her bottom lip, mouth dry, and when the ex-cheerleader facing her hones in on the action, eyes darkening, Rachel is sure she won’t be able to resist.
“What would you do if I said that I wanted to kiss you right now?” she lowly asks, mind and body hyperaware of every move Quinn makes.
The blonde swallows, and she closes her eyes in a show of restraint. “I’d tell you that you just broke up with Finn, who you were consider marrying only a few hours ago.”
“You’re not a rebound Quinn,” Rachel feels the need to reassure the other girl, reaching out a hand to interlace with hers. “You’re a pretty face, but you’re so much more than that.”
“God…You’re really testing my self-control here, aren’t you?” Quinn’s voice is husky, in that breathy alto of hers, and she exhales, before she smiles coyly. “But I’m planning to woo you, Rachel Berry, so I’ll be chivalrous…for now, at least.”
The brunette’s breath catches, “You…You want to woo me?”
At this, the corners of the ex-cheerleader’s smile turn slightly embarrassed, but she sits up straighter, putting away their ice-cream for now. “Look Rachel, I know I don’t deserve you or your attention after all I’ve done,” She meets the singer’s eyes evenly, squeezing the hand in hers to quell Rachel’s protests. “But…I want to be better. I didn’t fight for you before because I thought I would never be good enough for you, but now I will. I want to be better, for you, and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get my shit together and realize that. You deserve everything, and I hope that I can be the person that can give it to you.”
A few beats pass, with Rachel still at a loss as to how to operate her gaping mouth, and she looks at Quinn with something akin to wonder and delighted happiness. How did she ever pick Finn when she could’ve had Quinn?
Her heart pangs less than it should when she thinks of the awkward boy, and it’s with that knowledge that she’s able to move forward and mummer to Quinn, “I really, really, want to kiss you right now.”
A visible shiver passes through the pale girl, and she growls, a low rumble in her throat.
Feeling a shockwave of heat erupt through her every pore and fiber at the sound, Rachel can’t help the tiny whimper that comes out, and at that, Quinn’s eyes dilate even more, if it’s even possible.
“Kiss me,” the brunette almost begs, tone pleading.
Quinn closes her eyes for a brief second, as if she’s trying to contain herself, but Rachel can tell the moment she fails, her face shifting in an almost imperceptible change.
The next thing she knows, soft lips are pressed against hers, and she instantly has to swallow a moan, the feeling of Quinn’s demanding kisses simply divine.
Her hands situate themselves at the taller girl’s hips, and they kiss with a fevered urgency, though Quinn is taking care not to let it deepen, her hands placed at Rachel’s hip and neck, thumb rubbing the underside of her jaw.
She remembers asking Finn what it was like to kiss her.
It’s not just fireworks.
Even with their closed-mouth kiss, Quinn still works her lips and hands with deliberate movements, working the brunette up a storm. It’s like she’s the embodiment of Aphrodite, having mastered the art of kissing to a science.
Abruptly, Rachel feels an irrational jealousy of all those who got to experience these beautiful lips before her, and her tongue snakes out to trace the blonde’s lip, sending bursts of pleasure through her.
Quinn groans, throaty and dark, and reluctantly, she pulls away, unable to keep her smile at bay. “You’re ruining all my plans of courting you, Berry.”
“Guess you’ll have to work extra hard then.” The brunette kittenishly smirks.
A low-pitched whine fills her ears, and Quinn presses their lips together, savoring it for a second before pulling away.
Utterly unsatisfied, Rachel tries to capture the ex-cheerleader’s lips again, but Quinn evades her pursuits with her lips quirked. “I was serious when I said that I fully intend to do this the old-fashioned way, Rach,” she whispers in the diva’s ear with a devilish gleam in her hazel eyes, “And when I’m done with you, you’ll be begging on your knees for more.”
Rachel’s unable to keep in her moan, throwing her head back slightly at the sensation of Quinn’s lips ghosting over her ear, and she turns her head to seize the blonde’s lips with her own.
Quinn lets her have it for a minute or two, mouths sliding against each other leisurely, but the second the singer tilts her head to deepen the kiss, she pulls away with a coy smile. “I know you said that I’m not a rebound, but I still want to prove my worth to you, and as hard as it’s going to be, I’m going to take this slowly.”
At the taller girl’s words, Rachel pouts, turning on her ‘doe eyes’, and Quinn mumbles “Okay, maybe one more.” and places a quick peck on the brunette’s lips before moving away.
“You better make this up to me, Fabray,” Rachel grumbles.
The blonde laughs, free and light in a way that sends fluttering butterflies to the singer’s stomach, and Quinn drawls, “Oh, I will.” The flirtatious tone to her voice gives Rachel a major head rush, but then Quinn lets the moment turn tender, eyes shining with sincerity. “I’ll be better than Finn, Rachel. I promise.”
The petite girl feels her heart fill with fuzzy adoration, and she beams, “You already are.”
Rachel Berry was going to marry Finn Hudson.
But now she thinks that maybe, one day she’ll marry Quinn Fabray instead.
When you call my name
do you think I’ll come running?
You never did the same
So good at giving me nothing
When you close your eyes, do you picture me?
When you fantasize, am I your fantasy?
Now you know, now I’m free