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Heart Skipped A Beat

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A/N: for the first time, I wrote a fic from a 2nd person POV. If you don’t like it, don’t read it.


The POV Alternates between Quinn & Rachel, as their relationship progresses. I took the liberty to rewrite some of the Glee scenes…Flashbacks are in italics




“Finn…Finn, asked me to marry him…” Her voice is no more audible than a soft whisper, but it feels like she has stabbed you with a long cold knife. You can feel your blood freeze in your veins and your hand tremble against your eyes. If you move a little too low, you’ll end up blinding yourself with the eyeliner. Maybe it’d be better than seeing this wreck happening in front of you.


“What did you say?” You turn to face her. You’re trying to keep your cool, without shouting in her face or showing her your emotions. It’s not what a Fabray does. It’s not how they raised you to be.


“I said I needed to think about it…” She looks down at her feet. Gone are those Penny Loafers that used to make “her” what she was. She wore pristine designer boots, accompanied by a more stylish look that still makes her justice but that turned into one of ‘those crowds’. The same crowd you’ve always belonged to. The one you used to rule before you gave up on your HBIC title.


“Well, you can’t…” You hold onto your eyeliner a little too tight and it breaks in your palm. You curse under your breath because you had stolen it from your mother’s precious make-up box and the damn thing was too expensive than worthy.


“Why not?” Rachel takes a napkin and runs it under the cold water, before grabbing your palm to dab it with the wet cloth. She wipes the remaining stains out and throws the napkin aside, still holding onto your palm.


“You know why, Rach.” You look down at her, taking advantage of those few inches you have on her. Your height difference is perfect for your purposes and habits. She is short enough to tuck herself under your chin and you’re not too tall to overcome her or crowd her.


“I want you to say it, Quinn.” She is waiting for you to say it. To finally say those three words that took you where you are, in that moment. She is dying to hear those words coming out of your mouth, to complete the picture you’ve been drawing together for so long.


“You have an amazing life ahead of yourself, Rachel. You can’t let him hold you back…you’re destined to be more than just Mrs. Hudson.” You are a coward. You bite your tongue and take the easy route out of it. You look away as she drops your hand and crosses her arms over her chest.


“You’re such a coward, Quinn Fabray.” She says through gritted teeth. She is biting onto her lower lip, fighting the tears back. She hates crying in front of you. She hates crying for you.


“You’re meant to be on Broadway, why are you wasting your time building a future in Lima?” You don’t deserve her, nor Finn does. You’d be holding her back from the great things she’s meant for. “You don’t need Finn…you don’t need me.” You feel your heart break a little, because part of you selfishly wants her to need you like you need her.


“You’re wrong. Broadway doesn’t want me…I’ve been building these dreams for nothing. They couldn’t even send me a formal rejection. No letter, Quinn. Nothing in two months and Graduation is around the corner.” She is yelling at your face, openly crying.


“You know how fucked up is NY mail system, Rach. You can’t give up like that.” You step up into her, wiping her face with the pads of your thumb. “You’ll get in. There’s no one else who deserves that spot more than you.” You’re tempted to lean down and kiss her lips, tasting her again. You settle for her forehead, pressing a lingering kiss there…where her hair starts.


“Say it, Quinn.” She whispers softly, but you just pull her into your arms and keep quiet. It’s not your choice to make, even if your heart is breaking in thousand pieces at the thought that it may be your last hug. That it may be your last chance to have her.




“You shouldn’t be here…” You open the door expecting a much taller figure standing on your porch, maybe not drenched from head to toes. “What are you doing here, Quinn?” You lean against the doorway, blocking her path inside your house.


“I overheard your conversation with Tina and Mercedes. Rach, you can’t be seriously thinking of giving your virginity to Finn Hudson.” She pushes her wet hair back and takes a step closer, drenching your doormat.


“What if I want to? I don’t see why this concerns you, Quinn.” You turn around and are ready to slam your door in her face, but she slips in after you and locks the door behind herself. “You need to leave, now. Finn will be here soon.”


“No, he won’t.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Is he pressuring you? Because I’ll ask Dave to have little chat with him, he needs to respect your wishes to wait!”


“And you need to respect my wish to be intimate with someone else who is not you!” You grip the lapels of her jacket hard and pin her against the door, looking up into her pained hazel eyes. Her hair is dripping on your face, but you cannot care less. “We broke up and I have every right to move on, at any pace I wish to go with my boyfriend…”


“Fine. Tell me why you want to do it tonight, of every night you could’ve picked…” She fixes you with her best HBIC glare, reading you like an open book. “Is it because those OSU guys didn’t pick him? Is it because you want to make him feel special? Tell me, Rachel…Tell me why something that should be about ‘you’ turned into something about him!” She grips your wrists with her hands. She is not holding you too tight, but strong enough not to let you go.


“He needs that…” You look away. You know she is right. You are ready to give up on something you had held onto, for so long, just to make him feel better. You know he wouldn’t have come over just to hang out, without an ulterior motive. He was not like her. He cared about you in a totally different way, that made you feel like you owed it to him, to reward his best efforts. To compensate his sacrifices.


“If you want to give it to him, go ahead but let it happen on your terms. You owe yourself that…” She drops your hands and presses a soft kiss against the crown of your head.


You stand still, frozen in the spot. You know that if you dared to move, you’d end up falling into a familiar embrace, that you could no longer afford to lose yourself into. She had let you go, without a fight and you were too tired to wait for her. To wait to hear those simple words that kept you awake at night, as you watched her sleep beside you. To wait to see her fight for your love in the light and not just in the dark, behind closed doors and curtains.


“I should go.” Quinn pulls back from you and smiles down at you. A secret smile that she had for you, only you. “You look so beautiful, Rachel, and Finn is a lucky guy to have you.” She turns toward the door and opens it slowly.


“Why didn’t you fight for me? For us?” You had to ask. It’s been a little more than three months since you had walked out on her, after the umpteenth fight over her closed off stance. Over her high walls that she couldn’t break through, not even for you.


“You know why, Rachel. I wasn’t ready for what you were asking me to…I wish I was like you.” Quinn looks at you over her shoulder. She is wearing a sad smile, now. She is aware of the mess she made. If she hadn’t let you go, maybe it’d be you and her talking about your first time. Maybe you would be already in your bed, taking advantage of your parents being away for the weekend.


“But you were ready to let me go?” You can’t fight the tears falling. Quinn Fabray will always be your most intense love, even years from now. With her broken smile and wounded soul, she had stolen your heart the first time you kissed and, since then, she has been carrying it with her. 


“I made you unhappy, Rachel, and that’s not what love is supposed to make you feel like. I walked on cloud nine, but I saw you needed more than I could give you…I had to let you go, to find the happiness I couldn’t provide you with.” She leans into the doorway, watching you over her shoulder. “When I see you with him, my heart aches because I wish I were brave enough to be the one standing by your side…But I’m not.” With that said, she ran her way back to her red Volkswagen Beetle and sped away into the rain.




“I got into Yale.” You stay behind after Glee. You’ve just heard the news about the wedding date and the letter in your bag started weighing even more. You needed an escape from the ghosts of your insecurities and New Haven was exactly what you needed. It was not Lima. It was not New York.


“What?” She looks up from the music sheets, that she was pretending look through.


“I got into Yale.” You stand in front of her. The piano scene is familiar, but this time you’re not sitting on the bench, thinking about the right words to use to break up with her. You’re not fighting your instincts to have your way with her, on the piano. “I got a full scholarship for my grades and academic achievements. I think Coach Sylvester put a few good words in for me.”


“Congratulations are in order, then.” She looks up from the sheets. Her smile is forced and her posture is tense.


“Same could be said for you and Finn.” It’s your turn to hold the snarl back. A wedding in high school? What was she running from? She was wasting her life away with someone who had always dreamt too little, for her own liking.


“Yeah, it sounded like it was the appropriate moment for us. After everything we’ve been through...” She sounds off and not fully convinced, but you cannot really be convinced this is the right choice for her. It’s just a huge mistake. “You’ll receive your RSVP card pretty soon.”


“Are you kidding me? You can’t really think I’ll attend this fucking joke.” You chuckle sarcastically. You’re pretty close to slap the stupidity of this idea off her, but you refrain yourself. She is doing it on purpose, just to earn a reaction from you. Some grand gesture, maybe.


“And what are you exactly doing by running away to Connecticut? You think that 80 miles away from New York will make you forget about me? About us?” She raises her voice and walks around the piano, to stand in front of you.


“For someone who is planning to marry the love of her life, you’re pretty informed about the distance between Yale and New York.” You scoff loudly. “You’re accusing me of running, while you’re using that dumb giant to replace me? Do you think that you’ll find happiness in a white picket fence and an entry level job in Lima? Did you ask Mr. Schue about coming back, next year, to coach these kids not to become a Lima loser?” The slap is hard. Your face aches where Rachel’s palm collided with your cheek and you’re pretty sure her engagement ring left a mark on your skin.


You stare at her, panting heavily.


You don’t even cup your own face because her palms do it for you as she lowers your lips to hers, for an equally hard kiss.


You kiss hard and hungrily, in the middle of the choir room. Your hands slide behind her thighs, lifting her off the floor to deposit her on the piano behind you and stand between her parted legs. Her hands slide down your neck to the collar of your shirt, pulling you into her as your mouths never part, exchanging hot and wet kisses that involve teeth and tongues.


“I’m sorry I slapped you…” She kisses your reddened cheek. Her hand massages the back of your head, while the other finds your left hand, playing with the ring on your thumb.


“I deserved that.” You chuckle, dropping your forehead on your shoulder. You pull her closer with your free arm, circling your waist softly. “You can’t marry him, Rachel.” You whisper and hold her a little tighter, feeling her desire to escape from you.


“He loves me. He isn’t afraid to show that he loves me…” She rests her forehead against your slumped shoulder. It’s your fault, in the end. “He will be there when Broadway won’t…when you’ll be in New Haven, to make your dreams come true.”


“Broadway will happen, it’s just being delayed.” You look at her. “You can have more auditions, if you won’t give up…Don’t give up.” You whisper in her ear, as she pulls you closer for one last time.




You can’t believe how this day went from being – supposedly – one of the happiest in your life to one of the worst ones. One moment you stood there, in your wedding dress, waiting to go in front of the judge to marry him and, then, the following moment you were running through the Lima General hallway, to get news about Quinn.


She wasn’t supposed to come. She was supposed to stay home and drink her sorrow away, because you were no longer hers. Because you had chosen him over her. She was supposed to keep away from your travesty of a wedding, letting you make a mistake without getting into the way and making that choice for you. But she was there, with you. She was there when you let him see you wearing that wedding dress, welcoming ‘the bad luck’ like a Godsend gift. She was there when you kept on staring at your phone, hoping to see her name pop up to call to stop you. She was there when you chose to wait, upon seeing her text.


She was ‘on her way’ to you. She was coming to see you walk away from her. She was coming to see you walk down the aisle, but not towards her. She was coming to say goodbye.


“Miss Berry?” You look up from the floor. You had never met Russel Fabray, but you had heard many things that made you want to run the opposite way, towards the nearest exit. He was towering you with his taller figure and his tight stance.


“Mr. Fabray.” You greet him politely. You’ve heard stories about him from Quinn, but also from Finn. During their short romance, he had never been understanding of the orphan boy who was too ‘simple’ to be worthy of a Fabray’s girl. Quinn deserved more than that…maybe some Christian boy who came from an equally wealthy family, that could match their good name and reputation. Some pompous Ivy League boy, too worried about getting a trophy wife to care about going through Quinn’s walls.


“Are you a believer, Miss Berry?” He walks with you, down the hallway that led you away from Quinn’s room. She was still undergoing a series of complicated surgeries, given the precarious conditions she had been brought in.


“I am half Jewish, Mr. Fabray, and my Daddies raised me to believe in a higher power that protects us, from above.” You wince, expecting a disgusted expression on his face at the mentions of your Dads. “So yes, I’m a believer.”


“I pray every night, Miss Berry. I pray for my family and for the life the Lord has blessed me with. I pray for my elder daughter, who just gave birth to my first grandson. I pray for my beautiful wife, who has loved me throughout the years.” He takes a deep breath and looks down at you, with moist eyes. “I pray for my Lucy, who doesn’t know how to love without hurting herself. I begged the Lord so hard to make her fall out of love with you, Miss Berry.” He is breathing hard, holding onto the wall for support.


“You knew?” You can’t believe that. How could he know without saying anything? Quinn had been so scared to come out to her parents, given their firm beliefs and strict Christian education. She had been so scared that you had ended up in multiple fights over it, leading to your ultimate breakup. “How long?”


“Since you two broke up. She came home devastated and I knew it was because of you. You’ve always had her eating from your palms. You always held such a strong power over her, that you ended up breaking her in thousand pieces.” He looks down at you, anguished and angry. “My Lucy has never loved anyone the way she loves you, Miss Berry. She had found the courage to come to the wedding and stop it, when that truck came out of nowhere…”


“She…she was coming to stop it?” You drop in the nearest chair. You feel your heart tighten in your chest and your lungs fail you. You cannot breathe nor see. The walls are closing on you or is the room spinning? Maybe it’s both.


“We fought about it. I told her to give up on you and think about her future. She didn’t want to hear me out…” He wipes his cheeks with his silk handkerchief. You’ve never seen Russell Fabray so lost and broken, before. 


“She was coming to stop the wedding…” You whisper one last time, before everything turns black and you drop against the wall behind your back.




Physical therapy has been a nightmare.


You’ve been given the worst news regarding your ability to walk again, let alone running and cheerleading. Those years feel like a good distant memory, when you try to sit up on your own, without doubling in pain because your spinal cord has been broken in 7 different places and they rebuilt you like a robot, made of titanium.


You make progresses. Each day, you become stronger and get closer to your ultimate goal: Yale. With your mind set there, you ignore all the stares in the school hallway. The high and mighty Head Cheerleader is carrying herself around on a wheelchair, struggling to get the books from the locker and taking too many trips to the nurse office, for everyone’s liking. You hate feeling powerless. You hate being scrutinized like a basket case, waiting to explode and wreak havoc.


But, above everything else, you cannot tolerate how she looks at you. You haven’t talked since the car accident. Since you woke up, the first time, groggily and under the influence of too many medicines to focus on her, sitting by your side with your hand in hers. You remember blurred scenes from that evening. You don’t know what was said nor how long she had been there. You can only remember the warmth in your chest and her tender touch, that easily lulled you back to sleep. The following afternoon, she was gone and didn’t come back.


You have crossed her path in school, but not long enough to really talk about where you two stood. She’s avoiding you, when she is not looking at you with regret and pity and you, on the other hand, are not searching for her or seeking her attention. You hate showing her how much she still affects you. How much she renders you powerless.


“Still nothing?” Dave stands by your side, handing you a fresh Slushy. Grape, your favorite. Her favorite.


“If you figure something out, come find me.” You grit your teeth, slamming the locker shut. Some students turn around to stare at you, but you fix them with your best HBIC glare.


“Oh, scary Quinn.” He laughs and gets behind your chair, pushing you toward the main exit. You take the ramp down to his car, knowing he’ll give you a lift home since both your parents are not available to pick you up.


“Bite me, Dave.” You give him the finger, faking a smile that still hides some playfulness behind it. You turn to settle in the passenger seat, when your eyes catch a familiar couple standing meters away from your parking spot.


“What are you looking at?” Dave looks your way, catching the familiar quarterback standing in front of the captain of the Glee club, at a relatively modest distance.


You watch him talk animatedly, almost too much for your liking, but it feels like she is not really paying that much of attention. She is standing there, with her arms crossed, looking far off in the distance without even sparing him a glance.


You hold your breath when he cups her face, almost wanting to kiss her, but she takes a step back and pushes him away, as much as her strength allows her to.


You probably forget how to breathe some air in, when she slips her engagement ring off and inside the front pocket of his letterman jacket. She wipes at her eyes and leans up to kiss his cheek, softly, before turning on her heels and walking away to her Prius.




Nationals are held in Chicago, this year. Last year in New York had been almost perfect, hadn’t it been for the kiss on-stage that had sent your chances to win to hell and had put more distance between you and her, consolidating a breakup that was not wanted from either of you. It was necessary, though. You had hoped for a sign, anything that could have sent you back in her arms, but she had kept her cool distance and just let you shine, on the stage where you belonged.


Chicago is beautiful, but she is more than that. You’ve kept your distance as she recovered from the accident, that almost had taken her away from you. You’ve watched her from afar, with a vigilant eye and an even better friend standing by her side, the way she needed to. You and Dave had a silent pact. You had agreed not to disagree, for her.


For Quinn.


She deserved more than you two bickering about what was the best for her. She needed love and support. She needed someone to take strength from. Someone to rely on. Someone that wouldn’t hurt her even more and, for now, that person wasn’t you.


The memory of Russel Fabray crumbling in thousand pieces is in front of your eyes. He fell to pieces for the broken girl that you had put in a hospital bed, fighting for her life. For the girl you had broken, because of your love.


Wasn’t love supposed to heal and not to break?


You hurt her. You hurt him. You hurt yourself.


So, you’ve kept your distance even when you got your acceptance letter from NYADA. You’ve kept your distance when you saw her raise herself from the wheelchair, stumbling in Dave’s ready arms. You’ve kept your distance when you saw Figgins congratulate her for being the youngest and most brilliant Valedictorian of McKinley High. You’ve kept your distance, fighting your own instincts to show up on her doorstep and rewind your history from the starting point, to rewrite the bad moments and relive the good ones.


You’re still keeping your distance now, hidden behind a curtain as you are waiting for the National title to be assigned. You did a great job out there. You were almost too good to be true.


“Nervous?” Her familiar husky tone startles you. You’ve been spacing out long enough not to see her approach you, having found you despite your hiding place. “I wanted to thank you, Rachel, for having led us throughout the years. You led us here.”


“We all did that, Quinn. It was teamwork.” You look up into her eyes. The heels you’re wearing keep your height difference in place and it’s so good to look up at her, instead of seeing her in that wheelchair.


“You were a great Captain.” She smiles, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. “I heard congratulations are in order, you got into NYADA right?” She wears a knowing smile. One that means ‘I told you so’. She has always believed in you, more than you have.


“I…yeah, I got my letter last week.” You look away from her. Your hands ball at your sides, refraining yourself from reaching out and hold onto hers, playing with her long fingers.


“I knew you’d make it.” She steps closer, brushing the back of her hands against yours. “I don’t know what’s going to happen but…well, I just want you to know I’m proud of being here, with you.” She squeezes your hand quickly and then turns around to walk away, but you grip her wrist.


“Thanks, it means a lot to me.” You hold onto your hand, with both of yours. Your fingers lock around hers, forcing her to look back at you. There are so many unspoken words between you two. So many things left unsaid, that you could write a whole book about it. You’re about to spill them out, when Mr. Schue comes up to you and ushers you onto the stage…It’s time to know the verdict.  




It’s been too long since the last party you attended. With the accident and the desire to avoid ‘Finchel’ at all costs, you had barely showed up at any party thrown in the past 1 year and half. You don’t fear that any longer. He moved on, with one of the junior cheerleaders of your ex-squad, proving you that he had never deserved her in the first place. Their epic love story turned out to be another obvious high school romance that didn’t go anywhere.


You escape from the crowded room and the sight of Finn drunkenly groping the blonde Cheerio in front of everyone. You grab a cigarette from your purse and light it up, blowing the smoke up towards the night sky. It’s clear enough to see the stars and the moon shining bright above your head. It’s warm enough not to get your light cardigan and throw it over your sundress.


“Smoking will kill you.” You don’t get startled by her voice. You’ve felt her behind you since the moment you slipped out of the back door to take a cigarette break. You’ve felt her eyes on you, for a while now.


“I met Death but got turned down, it wasn’t our moment yet.” You chuckle and take another long drag from the ‘murderous stick’. You can only imagine all the good points she’d make, in order to make you quit. But that smelly thing between your fingers helped taking your mind off things. Things like her.


“When did you become so cynic?” She stands by your side, arms wrapped around herself in a protective stance.


“When a fucking truck came out of nowhere and almost killed me.” You throw the cigarette aside, mimicking her pose. “If you’re here to lecture me about my lifestyle, you’re wasting your time. I get plenty of that from my folks.” You reach for your car keys, clearly having had enough of the whole party.


“You were on your way to my wedding.” She grabs onto your hand, keeping you rooted in the spot. “Why?”


“You know why. I wanted to support you and Finn. I wanted to see you happy.” You blurt out a blatant lie. You know that. She knows that, too.


“Bullshit.” She steps in front of you. “Why were you on your way to my wedding, Quinn?”


“You already know the answer, Rachel. Hearing it from me won’t change anything.” You try to sidestep her, but she moves with you, holding onto your waist.


“It changes everything, Quinn.” Her hands travel up your sides to cup your cheeks, brushing your flushed skin. “Why?”


“I couldn’t let you marry him without knowing what I felt for you, Rachel. You…I would’ve opposed myself, if given a chance to speak out because…” You look away from her intense orbs and sigh in deeply.


“Because what?” She turns your head back to face her. Your eyes fill with tears and so do hers. She is smiling encouragingly, making sure to brush her thumbs along your cheeks as you find your words.


“Because I love you, Rachel. I’ve been in love with you for so long…” You whisper softly. If she hadn’t stood so close, she might have had troubles hearing you out, but she heard you. And she smiles, so brightly that the night became a bit clearer.




You can’t stop kissing her. She can’t stop kissing you back. You lie in your bed, with only a thin sheet covering your nude frames, shielding you from the cooler breeze coming through the open window. With your parents gone, anyone would have taken an easy opportunity to get you in bed with them, but not her.


You are setting up the pace and she is gladly following you along. She followed you up to your room. She let you get her naked first, baring herself for the first time since the accident, that had scarred her perfect frame like an angry painter ripping through their canvas. You’ve spent long minutes kissing and touching those scars, familiarizing with their textures and mapping them in your mind. You’ve spent long minutes reassuring her of her unwavering beauty. You’ve spent minutes making sure she knew nothing had changed for you, not even in the slightest.


She is still the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen and a lot more than that.


“Say it again.” You claim her lips with yours, settling on top of her.


“I love you, Rach.” She smiles against your lips. Her arms slip around your back, holding you protectively against her. You settle your head in the crook of her neck, sighing softly when she presses her lips against your forehead.


“I love you too, Lucy.” You smile when she groans in frustration. You know she dislikes her first real name, as much as you dislike being called ‘Rachie’.


“Don’t provoke me, Berry.” She tilts your head to her and kisses you softly. Your tongue chases hers in her mouth, battling for a tender dominance that had no winners or losers.


“Will you spend the night?” You don’t want to let her go. You know you’re running out of time, so you want to savor every moment you have until you part ways, heading to your respective colleges.


“Only if you want me to. I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything like that.” Quinn brushes your bangs out of your eyes. Her fingers are delicate against your face. She traces your features with her fingertips, smiling when you scrunch up your nose because her touch is sort of ticklish.


“I don’t feel pressured. I got you naked first.” You grab her wandering hand and kiss her scarred palm. Your lips pepper the damaged skin with soft kisses, that make her pull you closer and more into her.


“And we evened out the score…” She smirks. Her free hand slides dangerously close to your backside, resting mere inches above your curves. “You’re gorgeous, Rachel.” She tells you sincerely. She knows she means every single word, without ulterior motives. She is simply content of lying there, with you, and you feel exactly the same way.


“Quinn…” You crawl up her body, resting your weight on your elbows each side of her head. “I need to confess something…” You drop your forehead on hers, closing your eyes to collect yourself.


“What is it, baby?” She rubs up and down your back. Her hands massage your tensed muscles, helping you relax your body back on hers.


“I…do you remember when you showed up the night I…the night I had chosen to sleep with Finn?” You gulp and look up at her. You watch her nod and drop her smile. She keeps on stroking your back and your sides, slowly. “I didn’t go through it, with him.”


“What do you mean?” Quinn looks down at you, puzzled.


“I didn’t sleep with him that night, nor any other night. I am…I am a virgin.” You hide your face in the crook of her neck, not to see the amused look on her face. You know you’re being ridiculous, but you can’t help it. Quinn had to know the truth.


“There’s nothing to be embarrassed for, Rach.” She kisses your ear, holding you a little tighter. “If you want to wait until you’re 25, it’s gonna be perfectly fine by me. It will be a sweet sacrifice, but I’ll gladly make it for you. I want you to live that experience at your own pace…”


“I love you, Quinn. So much…” You cradle her head in your forearms and kiss her softly, full of love for her.


“I love you too, babe.” She whispers softly and rolls you over, pinning you against the mattress. Just because you want to wait, it doesn’t mean you can’t find other ways to entertain your naked girlfriend in bed.




The first months of college are not easy. Yale is challenging and hard on you. You get your first dose of reality when your professor calls you out for the mediocre paper you’ve spent a whole week on, grading you with a C-. You’re not used to those letters. You’ve been a “A” grade student for your whole life. It hurts not to be the best in your class. It hurts to see your peers snickering with a knowing smile. You’re just a rich pretty face to them. They don’t know you’re contributing to your tuition with your trust fund, while your parents cover the remaining fees. They don’t know what you’ve been through. They don’t know and they don’t care. The only people who care are not there with you. One is across the country, studying Law at Stanford and, the other, is 80 miles away from you, chasing her own dreams.


80 miles and a not so long train ride away from you. You decide to take advantage of the Metro passes you bought. It’s your 3rd month anniversary and you just want to see her. To feel her. To be with her. You get off at Grand Central Station and just jump on a cab to Bushwick, too tired and unexperienced to take the subway for an hour or so, on your own, so late at night. When you get there, you tip the driver and slip out, taking advantage of another tenant to get into the building and up the stairs to Rachel’s floor. You’re in a rush. You just can’t wait to see her.


You knock loudly and wait on the doormat. You finally understand what she meant by saying the building was not that bad, but it was not one of the finest ones either. It’s not what Yale is like and you’re quite happy about that, given the fees you’re paying on yearly basis. You wait, shifting your weight from one foot to another, with your duffle bag draped over your right shoulder. It’s a light packing, but it still contains something you bought for her. For your anniversary.


“Coming…” You hear her voice from the other side and then, few moments afterwards, the heavy metal door is pushed open to reveal your brunette, in a night attire.


“Surprise…” You smile at her. You smile the way you only do for her. She calls it your ‘secret smile’ and you never noticed, but you trust her word on it.


“Oh God, you’re here!” She literally jumps in your arms and hadn’t it been for your Cheerio practice, you’d have given up under her weight. You steady yourself and lift her higher against you, walking through the door with her wrapped around you.


“I missed you so much.” You have your face buried in her neck, inhaling her scent. She slips out of your arms to lock the door in place, before tugging you against her to claim your lips in a hard and deserving welcome kiss.


“You should’ve called me.” She whispers in your lips, kissing you harder when your body drops against hers, molding your fronts together.


“It was just a cab ride away, it’s too late for you to go out on your own.” You smile and take a look at her. Forgone are the bangs and her full chestnut hair. She trimmed and decolored her roots, making her look even sexier if even possible.


“Same for you…” She burrows herself under your chin, holding onto your Yale shirt with both her firsts. You probably don’t smell so good, but she seems not to care at all. She holds onto you and you just indulge her, holding her close. You’re finally home…




You watch her sleep. She is always so relaxed when she is sleeping. It’s the only moment when all the shields and walls come down. It’s the only moment when she lets her guard down and abandons herself, trusting you with her wellbeing. Your fingers trail up and down her stomach, tracing the shape of her muscles. She is even more toned than when she used to be a Cheerio.


“That tickles, you know…” Her voice is deeper and huskier, first in the morning, and you love the way it caresses your ears. You love the way it sends tingles up and down your spine. You love the way it makes your core throb.


“I know and I don’t care.” You brush your lips behind her ear, making her shiver in your arms. You’re hovering her, rubbing your bare breasts together. You lost your shirts during the heated make-out session that sent you both to sleep; the only garment of clothing you have on is your underwear.


“Naughty girl, someone should teach you a lesson.” She whimpers when your nails scratch her abs and travel lower, to dip in the waistband of her lace panties. She is rubbing your hips and holding onto them, as you keep on moving against her, pinning her down with your weight.


“Someone like you?” You nibble on her lower lip and it is the tipping point. You find yourself on your back, pressed down against your mattress with her face buried between your breasts. She keeps on switching between your hard nipples, making you arch into her and rub your thighs together. There’s a constant ache between them, that you’d need to take care of. That you’d want her to take care of, on your behalf.


“I can smell you from here.” She looks up at you, with darkened orbs. Her knee slips between yours, pressing down against the front of your soaked panties.


“God, I wish we were alone…” You think about Kurt sleeping a thin wall away from you. You’re pretty sure you already scarred him enough with your load moans and obvious sexual sounds. You two have been grunting and moaning for a while, by now.


“Yeah, me too.” She releases your hands and drops on her back, beside you. She is all sweaty and flushed, as if she had a run a marathon. But she hasn’t. It’s been you. Only you.


“We should hop in the shower and get out of here. I want to explore the city with you, Quinn.” You cuddle up in her side and pull her face down, to brush your lips together. “Happy Anniversary, baby.” You smile and feel her arm circle the back of your head, keeping your mouths pressed together.


“Happy Anniversary, Rachel.” She nudges your nose with her and sighs happily, holding you a little closer.




She visits you for your birthday. You’re swamped with papers and mid-terms, you almost forget it’s your birthday until you find her on your doorstep, with her pink suitcase and a ribbon placed on top of her head.


You giggle and twirl her around in the hallway, unable to hide the happiness you feel in that moment.


The moment you let her down, you drag her into your dorm room and pin her against the back of your door, crashing your lips against her and taking her breath away. She palms your cheeks, cupping them as you kiss her hard and fast. You kiss her as if you need to make sure she’s with you, there. You kiss her to claim her as yours. You kiss her as if it’s your last time you’ll do it.


“God, what’s gotten into you…” She pants heavily, dropping her forehead to your chin.


“Sorry, baby. I feel like I’m dreaming, I need to be sure it’s not a dream.” You rub the back of her neck, keeping her to you. “How was the train ride?” You kiss her forehead and temple, sighing when you feel her drop more weight against your front.


“Good. I dozed off for a while and my neck suffered from it.” She chuckles, looking up at you. You dip your head down, kissing her softly.


“I can give you a nice massage, if you want…” You tug her off the door and help her out of her coat. You drape it over the closer armchair, before taking her by the hand and twirling her back into your open arms.


“Quinn…” She squeals, almost embarrassed. There’s no one there, besides you. It’s just you and her, so you can be stupid as much as you want. You want to be yourself.


“Are you hungry? We can order some take out or go to the canteen, there are many vegan options.” You sway to a song in your head and drag her with you. You guide her hips against yours, in a slow dance.


“You’re such a hopeless romantic, you know that?” She turns in your arms, locking her hands behind your neck as you set the pace.


“Only with you, Rachel Berry.” You nuzzle her cheek with your nose and inhale in deeply. She smells like coconut and strawberry, your favorite scents. She’s your favorite of many things, though.


“Happy Birthday, Quinn Fabray.” She stands up on her tiptoes and kisses you sweetly. She kisses you and you lose track of your thoughts or anything else. Your mind is simply clouded by her and you wouldn’t have it any other way.




“I saw you and Finn…” She stands in the hallway, with her heels in her hands and her head tipped upwards, staring into the distance. “He will never give up on you, will he?” She chuckles sadly, almost sure you’re ready to drop her on her ass and run back into his arms.


“I don’t know, but I could give less fucks about it.” You drop your shoes by your hotel door and lean across from her, staring at her. “He thinks we are living in a fairytale and I’m the Princess in distress waiting for him to sweep me off my feet, like a good Prince Charming should do. But this isn’t a fairytale and even if it were, I’m not his Princess…” You smile at her confusion. You see her brow furrow in confusion.


“I don’t…what are you saying, Rachel?” She pushes off the wall and walks toward you. You do the same to meet her halfway, in the deserted hallway.


“When I saw Mr. Schue and Emma and the wedding…when I saw all those couples dancing and being happy, you know what I saw?” You reach up to cup her face and brush your thumb over her cheek. “I saw you. I saw us, standing there exchanging our vows.” You feel her tremble and so you slip your free arm around her waist, keeping her there with you.


“You…you want to marry me?” She gulps loudly. She is inhaling deeply, trying to calm herself.


“I want to build a life together and marriage is one of those milestones I’d want to experience with you, Quinn” You look away, unable to read her silence. “If you want to, of course…” You dreamt of your future with her, many times.


“I’d marry you now, if you wanted.” She turns your head her way and smiles at you. “But you have so much to achieve before that.” She kisses your palms and the ring she gave you.


We have so much to achieve…” You tug her by the hand and slip inside your hotel room, mindful to slide the ‘Do not disturb’ sign over the door handle.


It’s you and her, as it should’ve always been…


The End