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All Through the Night

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ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT 

 

Senior Year - High School

 

You feel out of place. You always feel like that when it comes to high school parties, even if you’re supposed to be better than the “Glee captain”. You’re supposed to be higher on the social ladder, thanks to Finn and his football achievements - even if he never won a game with the Titans. You went up, but you’ll never compete with her. Not with the girl who still manages to part the crowd, with a single glare. The same girl fallen from grace so many times, she could write a book about it and Hollywood could make a movie or a TV Show on it. The same girl who is standing in the corner, drinking from her glass without engaging anyone and, surprisingly, being ignored by most of the party attendants.

 

“Babe, can you give me some space? I cannot play beer pong with the guys, if you hold onto me.” It was supposed to be a simple remark, but it sort of hurts you. You nod and immediately loosen your grip around his bicep. You look down to hide your moist eyes and just leave the kitchen, not wanting to distract him with a ‘scene’.

 

You don’t see where you go, so you just stumble in one of the many anonymous cheerleaders that, of course, drops the contents of her glass on the front of your dress. She doesn’t apologize. She doesn’t care and you wonder if she even noticed her glass being empty. But you do and you can smell the cheap vodka on yourself, making you want to retch.

 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, Berry.” Her familiar voice fills your ears and her gentle hands steer you up the staircase, toward the main bathroom. She makes sure to kick whomever was in there out, so you two can slip in and lock yourselves inside.

 

“You didn’t have to come with me, Quinn.” You stand in front of the mirror, splashing water on the dress but it is not helping.

 

“It’s not like I had better things to do.” She shrugs and gets behind you, reaching for the zip of your dress.

 

“What…” You gulp. You feel her breath on the base of your neck, left exposed by your high ponytail. “What are you doing?”

 

“I’m helping you.” She lowers the zip and slowly pushes the dress off you, grabbing it before it pooled unceremoniously onto the floor. She is kneeling behind you, raising your feet one at a time, so she can pull the dress off and run it under the warm water. “We can only hope it’s not ruined. Vodka is a bitch.”

 

“Speaking of experience?” You can’t help yourself. She smirks at you through the mirror.

 

“I am a tequila girl.” She smirks even more and keeps washing your dress into the sink, bringing it to her nose to ensure the smell is fading away. “Almost done.” She runs it under the faucet once more and then stretches it above the sink, letting the water in excess drip from it.

 

“It’s gonna take ages to dry, now.” You rub your arms. You’re in your underdress and underwear and the bathroom is not warm enough.

 

“There’s a dryer. We can try.” She puts it inside and turns it on, running the ‘fast’ program. “Here, take this.” She pulls her jacket off and drapes it over your bare shoulders, closing it around your neck. “Better?”

 

“Yes.” You can’t help yourself. You bury your nose in the collar of her jacket and just take in a deep breath. She smells like you’ve always thought of. She smells of lavender and vanilla, with a hint of tobacco. She hasn’t stopped smoking, obviously.

 

“These parties get lamer and lamer. I shouldn’t bother anymore, but Satan and Britt keep dragging me to it.” She shrugs and leans casually against the sink. Her ankles are crossed and her arms are at her sides, in a casual and relaxed pose. “It used to be funnier, but guess alcohol does that trick for you.”

 

“I’m not a fan.” You have slipped your arms into the sleeves of her jacket, that goes a little longer on you. You feel better already, with her warmth and scent surrounding you. “Where’s Puck?”

 

“Why should I know? Hopefully, not impregnating some other insecure girl with low self-esteem.” She is bitter about it and you know why. Her wounds were still open and you can’t blame her for it. You’d be feeling the same, if Finn had done it with you. Surely, your first time with him was nothing but awkward but, in the end, he loved you and that’s all that mattered in that moment. “Finn was getting his ass kicked at the beer pong table, you sure you want to go home with him?”

 

“I can walk, it’s not that far.” You shrug. It’s 5 minutes walk and it’s not that cold. You can manage it.

 

“I’ll ask Dave to drop you both, it’s on his way home.” She pushes herself off the sink to check the dryer. She pulls the dress from the machine and stretches it, to try and fix all the wrinkles. “There you go.”

 

“Thanks, Quinn.” You slip her jacket off. You wonder if it’s normal that you miss her scent already. It’s still faint in your nose, but it’s fading and it’s being replaced by the scent of the soap she used for your dress. You let her help you, slowly zipping you up.

 

“You’re welcome.” It’s just a whisper, but you feel it. You watch her through the mirror, as she inches close enough to brush the tip of her nose against the base of your neck. You watch her trace the collar of your dress with her fingertips. You feel her touch and it sends shivers up and down your spine. You wish you were bold enough to take a step back and take it from there, but you’d end up ruining the moment for the two of you. “You’re so beautiful, Rachel. Happy New Year.” She whispers in your ear and then slips away from you and out of the bathroom, leaving her jacket behind. You stand there, frozen in the spot, not even realizing a single tear is trailing down your cheek until you look up and you see yourself into the mirror.

 

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Freshman - College (Yale / NYADA) 

 

You end up at another party. You’re back from New Haven for the winter break and, of course, you’re dragged to a sort of reunion party by Dave, who is now dating Kurt. You’d have never imagined connecting with someone like him, but you two had so many things in common and a fresh start was exactly what you both needed.

 

“Here, take this.” Dave hands you a red cup and from the strong smell, you can tell it’s cheap vodka. You chuckle and look through the crowd, hoping to spot her but she is nowhere to be found. “She is coming, with Kurt.”

 

“Who?” You feign ignorance but he knows how to read you. He knows about your feelings, not only because you confessed them when you got drunk at Mr. Schue’s wedding, upon seeing her with him again.

 

“Don’t play dumb, Fabray. Your IQ tells otherwise.” He nudges you and you take a sip. Your head drops against the wall behind you, eyeing the door with a predatory look. You’re on the edge and you shouldn’t. She is not yours. She probably will never be.

 

“Try not to drool too much.” He smirks and walks to the door as soon as he spots his better half. His affection is endearing and you can only hope to be half lucky, one day. Maybe with her or maybe with someone else, who will manage to wipe her memory off your mind and her name from your heart. You spot her through the crowd. She is taller than usual, due to the heels she is wearing, but it is still a challenge to maintain eye contact. You stretch your neck and keep on following her, until a too familiar silhouette stands in your way and takes her away. Again.

 

It takes you almost two hours and 4 cigarettes to finally see her again. You wonder what has occurred in that timeframe and your mind goes places that make your heart clench. You can’t help but wonder if they’ve rekindled their flames in the bedroom up the stairs or in his dirty van, parked just around the corner. It’s an image you wish to erase with the umpteenth cigarette and the last glass, but it’s still there and it only worsens.

 

“It’s the 4th one of the night?” She startles you. You turn around to face her. You had caught a glimpse of her, with Finn right behind her, and your choice was to run the opposite way - to the backyard.

 

“Past two hours.” You offer her one and she walks up to you, gripping your other wrist - the one holding the burning cigarette - to move the deathly stick to her lips and take a long drag. “Didn’t know you smoke. It’s bad for your voice.”

 

“It’s bad for yours too.” She blows the smoke in your face, Her fingers take the cigarette from you and just drop it to the ground, killing it with the heel of her stiletto. “All good, now.”

 

“I could still get a new one.” You challenge her with your eyebrow raise. Her fingers lock around yours, closing them into a loose fist.

 

“I’ll throw the whole package into the pool, if you want.” She smiles and lets your hand go, but hovers around it, brushing your knuckles together.

 

“You look good, I like the bangs.” You nod to her new haircut. She looks more mature. She looks hotter. She looks like a NYC girl but you miss the girl you’ve fallen in love with. The one with argyle sweaters and high knee socks.

 

“You never returned my calls.” She drops the smile. “You never texted me back. I know about you through Kurt and I know you know about me.”

 

“I’ve been busy, so have you.” You shrug and stuff your hands in the back pocket of your dark jeans. “Congratulations, by the way…”

 

“For what?” She raises her eyebrow, puzzled.

 

“You and Finn. Back together, right?” You catch a glimpse of him through the crowd, obviously looking for the brunette in front of you.

 

“I called things off and told him again, tonight. What happened at Mr. Schue’s wedding was just a mistake...I should’ve never gone with him, but I was just so overwhelmed.” She looks away from you.

 

“Overwhelmed? It seemed you had a lot of fun, Berry.” You chuckle. You’re not entertained, quite the opposite. You’re bitter because seeing her with him still enrages you. It enraged you that night as well. That’s why you ended up fucking Santana.

 

“Back to surnames, huh? God, Quinn…” She stares up at you with a fierce look. “How long do we need to play this game for? When will we have a damn clean start?”

 

“I don’t know, when will you finally let go of your past and start living your life outside Lima?” You realize you’re shouting. “If you keep on looking for that happy ending with Finn, you’ll never get it right!”

 

“You’re a fucking idiot, Quinn Fabray.” She shakes her head and turns around on her heels. As she walks away, with the sound of the fireworks in the background, you realize she is wearing your jacket over her dress.

 

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Sophomore Year - College (Yale / NYADA)

 

“Rachel, you were fabulous out there!” Kurt hugs you tightly. You were supposed to go back to Lima, as usual, but being casted in a local production with the debut night on the 31st of December was worthy enough to stay in NY. Your Fathers are standing right in front of you, crying their eyes out for your first real performance on stage. It’s a dream come true.

 

“Thanks Kurt, but aren’t you supposed to be with Dave back in Lima?” You smile at him. You can tell they’re in love and you can’t be happier for them. It’s like they’re two faces of the same coin.

 

“Actually, he’s at the loft. He surprised me and booked a hotel for 3 nights, so we can celebrate here.” He blushes. You know what you’re all thinking. Your fathers wear a knowing smile and so do you.

 

“So, what are you waiting for? Go and have fun!” You push him toward the door of your dressing room. “Tell him I say hi and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” You wink at him, as he blushes even more.

 

“Stop it!” He stumbles on his feet, in his rush. “Goodbye Leroy and Hiram, have a safe trip back.” He disappears and shuts the door behind himself, leaving you alone with your fathers.

 

“We’re so proud of you, Rachel.” Your Daddy kisses your forehead. You know he’s shed few tears and you can only imagine the feeling. You’re too young to understand it completely, but you get it.

 

“Thank you, Daddy.” You bury your head into his chest, feeling his arms tighten around your waist.

 

“We’ll be waiting by the main entrance, baby girl. Take your time.” Your Dad pats your head and tugs on your Daddy’s arm, leaving you alone in your dressing room. You’re in your robe and still wearing your makeup. You can’t help the grin on your face. It’s only a small local production, but they chose you as their leading woman. It’s all you’ve always dreamt of. It’s a step closer to Broadway.

 

“Is it too late for congratulations?” You could recognize that husky tone anywhere. You turn around in your chair, to see Quinn Fabray stand in your dressing room with a bouquet of Gardenias, in her hands.

 

“Quinn…” You are frozen in the spot. She is so beautiful, she takes your breath away. Her nose is a little red and her hands are mostly frozen, but you wouldn’t change a thing about her.

 

“You were amazing, Berry.” She smirks, knowing the surname thing still irks you up. She uses it playfully, this time. “You managed to exceed my expectations and they were pretty high, star.”

 

“Say it again.” You wonder how a simple nickname can make your heart flutter and stomach fill with imaginary butterflies.

 

“You’re a star.” She takes a tentative step closer and hands you the flowers. “I know they match my eyes, but they mean more than that and well...you know, metaphors are just as important.”

 

“You’re still an idiot.” You take her flowers and smell them. They smell exactly the way a love like yours should do. Simple, genuine and fresh. They smell like freedom.

 

“I’ve been told, a couple of times.” She cups your face with her cold hands, brushing her thumbs along your cheekbones. “But I’m here to stay, if it’s not too late.”

 

“It’s not.” You step up into her and bury your face into the crook of her neck. She holds you tightly, like a precious artwork that needs to be preserved. “Is it a dream?” You tilt your head upwards, searching her eyes with yours.

 

“If it’s a dream, I wish to never wake up then.” She leans down to cover your lips with hers and you can only abandon yourself into her arms.

 

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Senior Year - College (Yale / NYADA)

 

“God bless Ivy Leagues and their comfortably private single dorm rooms.” She moans in your ear, scratching along your back with her short nails.

 

“I’m a Senior, top of my class.” You nibble on her jawline and connect your lips for the umpteenth kiss of the night. Her tongue slips into your mouth, dueling with yours in a battle of dominance with no winners or losers. It’s a win-win. “I deserve some privilege.” You smirk and look down between your bodies, entranced by the way you’re connected in every way.

 

“Brat.” She tilts your head back up to kiss you. Her hands slide down your back to grip the straps of the harness you’re wearing, fastening them high around your thighs and hips.

 

“You love this brat.” You smirk in her mouth, when your hips roll forward and you slam back into her core with the plastic appendage between your legs. It was supposed to be a funny Xmas present, but she seems to be into it as much as you are. “Fuck, Rach...You’re still so wet for me.”

 

“Always, Quinn.” She sobs in your ear as you thrust in and out of her. Her hands grip you from the straps, guiding you inside of her at the pace she wishes to set. You’ve done her on her fours and let her ride you, but this is how you love it the most. You can feel all of her under you. You are one body and two souls.

 

“You’re so beautiful, star.” You know she loves it when you call her like that. She loves it when you say it in her ear, as you read the newspaper over her shoulder. She loves it when you say it at last, as you’re on the phone together. She loves it when you say it in her ear, as you make love to her or you fuck her hard and fast, like you’re doing right now.

 

“Like that, Quinn. Keep fucking me.” Her long legs wrap around your calves. You feel her heels slide up and down your tensed muscles, as you find more strength to slide into her and pound her into the mattress, the way she sometimes needs you to. The headboard keeps on bumping against the wall above your heads and you’re thankful it’s New Year’s Eve, so your neighbor cannot complain about all the loud sex you have with your girlfriend. Not again, at least. People either went home or are attending some party in the main hall, leaving you and her to your private celebrations, under your Egyptian cotton sheets.

 

“I’m so close, baby.” You feel the insert rub deliciously against your nub. With each thrust, it’s a jolt of pleasure to your drenched core. You wish you had a real thing to feel Rachel from the inside, but your vivid imagination is enough to fulfill that desire.

 

“Me too...fuck, me too!” She leads your hand between her legs and you get the hint, without further instructions. Your thumb circles her throbbing clit and she grips the straps harder. She is almost using you to get herself off and you’ve got nothing to complain about. You just let her do it as you up the pace of your thrusts. Your abs are killing you, but it’s worth the prize.

 

“Cum with me, Rach.” You beg into her ear. You see the white behind your closed lids. You feel your hole clench and unclench around nothing, as you drench the harness from the inside. You come hard and keep on fucking her, as she grips you for dear life.

 

“Quinn!!!” She shouts loudly. It’s so loud that even a soundproofed room wouldn’t have been enough to contain it. She scratches your asscheek, trying to grip you by the straps and just bucks her hips up and down, grinding onto the fake dick jutting out from between your hips.

 

“Fuck, I love you…” You don’t say it a lot. You keep it for the special moments and, right now, it feels like one. You take a glimpse at the alarm clock and you smile, knowing you rang into the New Year in the best possible way: fucking each other for hours.

 

“I love you too.” She says it more often than you do. She says it enough times to make you feel loved. She says it because she is not scared to wear her heart on her sleeve. She says it to let you know it’s okay to do so.

 

“I really do.” You kiss her softly. It’s the first soft kiss in hours of intense passion. You stay inside of her as you kiss her again and again. Her lips curl into a smile and she lets you set the pace, now. You always take your time in the aftermath of your lovemaking. You take your time to kiss her lips, slower and softer. You take your time to brush her sweaty hair back, so you can kiss her forehead too. You take your time to look at her, freezing each moment in your mind.

 

“I know, Quinn.” She grabs your hand and kisses it. She nuzzles into your palm and you lean down to kiss her forehead, where the hairline begins.

 

“Happy New Year, star.” You whisper softly, as you lean down to kiss her again. She circles your neck with her arms and holds you in place, breathing the same air.

 

“It will be, as long as I’m with you.” She rolls you over and settles against you, dropping your foreheads together as you remain intimately intertwined. You know she’ll be sore in the morning, but for now, you keep it that way. You wrap her up into your arms and lean up to catch her lips in another kiss. You don’t know what the New Year beholds for you, but you can’t wait to find out with her.

 

All through the night
This precious time when time is new
Oh, all through the night today
Knowing that we feel the same without saying

The End