We Fall in Love
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from glee
AN: A series of one-shots, varying in length, which mark the progress of a relationship. Emma Pillsbury doesn't exist in this universe. There is only one line and a few themes from 'Britney/Brittany' in this chapter, the rest is AU.
"…Let them come to you"
What did he mean by that? Besides the other inspirational 'easy-listening' speech he was giving. He had directed this at her, his eyes soft and open and she recognised something in that expression that caused her heart to skip a beat and her mouth to run dry.
He must have meant it to suggest something else.
She completely lost track of what was going on after that, she was in a daze, and was reliving every feather-light trace of his fingertips across her skin, which was overly sensitive to his touch, as though she was gifted with a sense dedicated just to him.
But it was just one chance meeting in the park on a warm summers evening. A mutual appreciation of the winking stars and the calm stillness had led to sitting on a bench together, their carefree laughter as they invented different constellations making everything seem so simple.
It was simple that when she shivered slightly, his arm reached around her and pulled her close up against him. It was simple the way his fingers stroked at her hair that tumbled over her shoulder.
The light faded quickly once it started, and he seemed loathe to let go of her, and she couldn't bring herself to move her head from his shoulder, comforted by the rising and falling of his chest, and excited by the way he would every now and again curve his neck to look into her eyes, and with each brief glance the wonderment that filled them seemed to expand.
She had been the first to move, mumbling something about it getting late, and her mum expecting her back, but equally as desperate to not break the spell that had been cast over their embrace.
She made no move to pull away from him, and he made no move to let her go. The conversation petered out, the birds returning to roost being the only noises in the park.
But actions spoke so much more loudly. Her hands, that had been sitting quietly in her lap, now reached around his waist, tentatively, slowly, but meeting no rejection.
He rested his chin on the top of her head, his breaths warm in her hair, and his other hand now moving to rest on her thigh, his fingertips playing at the embroidered patterns on her skirt.
And something rustled in the bushes, and their heads whipped round before turning back to each other. Their eyes met in the half-light, and they swallowed simultaneously.
"Don't go just yet", he had supplied, and she had taken a sharp intake of breath.
His lips pressed to her forehead once, a mere second of contact, that sent a wave of peace through her body, accompanied by a pleasant warmth.
They rested there again, lingering this time, and she shifted closer still to him on the bench.
That had been more of a question, and she knew the answer she would give before he had even asked it.
So she unwrapped her arms from around him, instead slipping them to loop round his neck and their lips met half way, colliding with an expressive gentleness that released a soft whimper from Quinn.
When they drew apart, they both needed more.
"You can have too much of a good thing", Quinn whispered, just before he claimed her lips once more.
"I feel like I'm dreaming", he responded, instead nuzzling her nose with his, and dropping a chaste kiss between her eyes.
"I'll leave so that I'm gone before you wake up", she murmured.
And she hadn't seen him again for the whole of summer.
It meant so much to her that Finn didn't still have feelings for her. She jumped at the chance to test him when Rachel Berry approached her at her locker.
She looked surprised that she was so keen to help her out, but Quinn couldn't risk Rachel noticing anything unusual between her and…Will. So let her be too busy focussing on Finn.
Rachel Berry noticed things, a good example being the fact that she had worked out that Puck was the father of her child.
She was just covering her tracks before they had even been made.
She didn't know if he meant anything by it. But she would sit on the edge of the stage in the auditorium and let him come to her.
He glanced at the clock above the door for the 12th time that lesson. Time seemed to drag so slowly when he was waiting for it to pass.
"Eyes on your own papers", he called out, "this is supposed to be a practise for a real exam… and in a real exam you cannot flick balls of paper with a ruler, Josh, thank you".
He rolled up his sleeves pointlessly, just for something to do, something to distract him, something to stop him trying to plan what he was going to say when he knew all he had to do was tell the truth and say exactly what he felt.
He tapped his pen against the desk, and Freya in the first row glared daggers at him.
He had appreciated time seemingly standing still on that bench in the park. It had given him longer to bask in the idyllic pleasure of holding someone who wanted to be held. It had given him longer to realise that the bubble they seemed to have created that held them both would eventually burst, and realise that he didn't want it to; at least not for a while.
His fingers now were tracing patterns across the desk in front of him, following the grain of the wood. He imagined that they were actually tracing patterns across Quinn's soft skin of her thigh, remembering how silky smooth it had felt, and remembering the flicker of unadulterated appreciation across her face.
The bell rang, and he shook himself from his thoughts to organise the class, but his mind was still elsewhere.
"How did you know where to find me?" She looked up from the stage, a stunning vision with the side spotlights illuminating her, throwing shadows across her beautiful face.
He shrugged, slowing his steps as he approached her. His fingers stretched out of their own accord to brush a few stray hairs from her cheek, and he heard her bite back a gasp.
He dropped his hand to his side, and they just stood there looking at each other, questioning eyes meeting questioning eyes, and neither holding any answers.
Finally Quinn spoke, unable to bear the uncertainty any longer.
"What do we do about that?"
"About what?" He asked, just as quietly, but he hoped he knew the answer.
She didn't answer directly, running her forefinger up the line of buttons on his shirt, and there was that jumping electricity again, there was that rush that reminded him of when he only just made it in time before the train doors closed.
"Tell me it isn't just because it's new and exciting and dangerous".
"It is new and exciting", he replied, "But it's not because it's dangerous. That just makes it more difficult for me to tell you that I think you're beautiful and if the park bench counts, I would like more than anything to take you on a second date".
She bit her lip, and his eyes smouldered.
Her finger hooked around the collar of his shirt, and teased the sensitive skin of his chest.
"What do we do now?"
"We dance", he said simply, stepping up onto the stage and holding out his hand to her.
"There isn't any music", she pointed out, taking his hand and joining him on the stage.
She placed a hand on his shoulder and a hand in his hand in a ballroom dancing pose.
They moved slowly across the stage, stepping carefully.
"We can't just dance", she said, after a while, lifting her head from his chest to look back into those warm eyes that melted her fears away.
He brushed his lips over her temple, then the top of her ear.
"Are you saying you don't want me to book this very auditorium after hours for private lessons?" He murmured, and she instinctively gripped tighter to him.
"I could make a picnic", she replied, and in her mind, head cheerleader Quinn scoffed at the lameness of her suggestion, but her heart flipped a somersault at the wideness of his grin.
As a gesture of his approval, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her tenderly. She moaned on contact, and he hesitated only for a second before deepening the kiss, pressing his tongue gently against her eager open lips.
Their breath mingled.
"Tell me this isn't just some high school crush that you will have got over in mere days", he said.
She kissed him hotly, for a few seconds, to dispel that look of anxiety on his face.
"It's already been over a month", she began, "and the… electricity has only increased in voltage".
"So we dance", he concluded, briefly nipping at her bottom lip.
"We dance", she repeated, to confirm, claiming his lips again.
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