Finding Her {Glee: Faberry}

Chapter 7

The women reached the house and Rachel still hadn't let go of Quinn's hand. Quinn had been trying to memorize the feeling so that when she finally let go she would be able to remember. To remember how delicately her hand fit with Quinn's, and how every once in awhile Rachel would squeeze her hand softly, almost as a reminder that she was still there, but Quinn wasn't too sure. The way Rachel's thumb would fleetingly brush along Quinn's. The blonde wanted to make the feeling last, as Rachel's hand seemed to warm her entire body.

"Quinn, about my apartment.. it's not much but, it's warm and it's my home," Rachel smiled and her hand pulled away. Quinn kept a giggle in while Rachel apologized for her apartment before the door even opened. She unlocked the door and they went inside.

Immediately Quinn's senses were overwhelmed by the feeling of Rachel. Quinn had assumed Rachel had perfume of vanilla and cinnamon, but her house was just as nice. The pictures all over the high, loft style apartment made Quinn remember Rachel in high school. She could spend forever here if she was able to do so.

"Take off your sweater. It's cold outside but never in here, and that's a Rachel Berry promise." Rachel said with amusement as she stood waiting, watching the blonde.

"It's fine, really. I wore it in the coffee shop, it doesn't really bother me." Quinn offered a small smile.

Rachel shrugged and offered her hand. Deciding that although the blonde seemed to have too many layers, it wasn't a big deal by any means.

Quinn was led to the couch and sat down. Despite Quinn's hopeful thinking, Rachel didn't sit down next to her, instead she walked to the kitchen area and pulled out two wine glasses.

"I usually have a glass at night. It's supposed to be good for your heart or something, but I just like it," Rachel laughed, "want to share a glass?" She also pulled out a bottle of wine and Quinn studied it quickly. She recognized the name and her eyes went wide. It was the wine she had wanted to buy often, but could never afford it. It was imported and well aged.

"You drink that wine often?" Quinn asked and smiled. Trying to hide how impressive Rachel's lifestyle was to her. Simple, but she still enjoyed her bonus luxuries.

"It's my favourite. Here, I'll bring it and you can pour it yourself." Rachel set the glasses and wine on the coffee table in front of Quinn before sitting sideways on the chair ahead of her.

Quinn poured two glasses slowly. She looked at Rachel and took a sip. The brunette had taken a sip of her own and rested back against the chair.

"I've missed you, Quinn. You kind of just fell off my radar. I couldn't find a way to reach you.. you just never replied or answered so I assumed you changed all your contact information." Rachel's face dropped.

Quinn was now looking down at her hands in her lap. She hesitated before answering. "Yeah. Something like that." Isolation was Quinn's only form of self help.

"I thought you had wanted to stay in touch. By now we could've been.. so close. But you just.. left."

Quinn felt guilt rise up within her. Rachel thought she left. She sighed quietly and sunk into the couch. Her hands trembled slightly as she took another drink, less of a sip this time. "I didn't want to leave you, Rachel. It wasn't really my choice." Quinn's cheeks were again reddening that day, now this time from frustration and embarrassment. The last thing she needed right now was for their conversation to continue down this road.

"I was so happy that by the end of it all, you were finally my friend. All I wanted was your friendship and then you shut me out." Before in the coffee shop, Rachel had been all love, now she was letting everything out.

"You just don't understand my reasons. I didn't want to ever leave our friendship." Quinn said over the lump in her throat. She was willing herself not to cry, not to break down the perfect walls she had built up around herself, but Rachel was the ocean. Eventually, she would break them down. "I can't tell you, Rachel." She couldn't tell Rachel about the nights she spent awake with a soup of thoughts on real love and self hate. Those two types somehow always drawing a line back to Rachel.

"Whatever it is.. I won't let you leave again."