a/n: Remember how I always say that I couldn't write angst if my life depended on it. Well, I tried again. I wanted to prove to myself that I could write this, and then prove to the many doubters that I've earned over the years that I could write this too. With much encouragement from the incredibly talented (and my idol/friend) GoingVintage, I wrote this one-shot. I'm still nervous about it but I'm proud of it at the same time. If that makes sense. I hope you enjoy it and please review. This my first real attempt at angst, so let me know how I've done. I don't own Glee.
He ducked out of the way just before a vase that was as expensive as it was ugly flew through the air aimed for his head. Her aim had gotten better over the years so ducking was actually necessary now.
She couldn't even remember what they were fighting about anymore. It seemed like all they ever did anymore was fight so much that every argument just blended into the next one. A snide comment about his shoes or her TV shows would escalate to screaming and throwing so fast, it would give you whiplash to watch.
Noah watched her feet carry her down the hall of their apartment and he knew exactly where she was going. She was quick and by the time he got back to his music room, she was in the process of lifting his favorite Eric Johnson Strat out of its velvet-lined case with the intent of smashing it against the hardwood floor.
"You crazy bitch," he bellowed at her, rushing forward and wrenching the instrument from her hands.
"You insufferable asshole," she screamed right back at him. "You care more about these damned guitars than me. I should just leave you with them!" Before the sentence was fully out of her mouth, she was out of the room again with him chasing after her.
"Oh sure, go ahead and leave Rachel. You're getting pretty fucking good at it lately. I swear the bellhop at the Hilton sees you more than I do anymore. Why don't you just tell me what the fucking problem is anyway? Or do you even know anymore? Because I know my guitars didn't do a goddamn thing to you." He stood in the doorway of their bedroom and watched her purposely kick some of his stuff around in the closet before she finally pulled her Louis Vuitton out and sat it on the bed.
"Just shut up Noah. You know very well what the problem is. I just can't do this anymore." Noah threw his arms up in the air with a frustrated yell and banged his fist against the wall beside him.
"Then let's stop fucking fighting over everything. Quit screeching at me and then slamming the door on your way out. Why don't you drop the boxing gloves and be my wife again." Rachel paused her shoving of random items of clothing into her bag and stared at him from across the room.
"That's what I can't do anymore Noah. This marriage just doesn't work, and I was a fool to think it would. We're too different, we always have been. I thought that if I loved you enough, it wouldn't matter but it does. It matters so much. And I just can't do it." Rachel looked down at her bag, haphazardly packed with clothes she probably didn't even wear anymore, and choked back the tears that threatened to fall. "Would you call me a cab please?" Noah sneered at her and picked her phone up from the dresser beside him. With a flick of his wrist, it landed neatly on top of the bedspread in front of her.
"Call your own fucking cab." She stood there for just a second after he left the room. When she dialed the familiar number for the cab company, her chest tightened but she steeled herself so she would be able to say the address without her voice breaking. Rachel zipped the bag closed and shouldered it. A sneer crossed her features when she looked down at the ring on her finger. If she had her way, it wouldn't be there much longer. She took it off and sat it on the dresser as she walked out into the hallway. She heard the television going and almost growled when she saw that her husband was sitting on the couch, practically unfazed. He didn't care. The man wanted to bitch at her about sleeping in a hotel and not acting like his wife while he sat there not so much as lifting a damn finger to fight for their relationship which he supposedly believed in? Well fuck that.
"Goodbye Noah." To her credit, Rachel waited until the elevator doors closed before she broke down in tears.
He waited. Waited for her to get over her little hissy fit and come home. He knew what they were fighting about. It was a different version of the same fight they always had. She wasn't supportive enough, he was too self-centered, same old shit just a different day.
It was past midnight when he walked into the bedroom, still angry and hurt that she'd left again. She wasn't the same girl he'd married a year ago. But she was still the woman he loved. Rachel was right on a few things. They were too different, but that made them better not worse. She conveniently forgot that sometimes.
After checking his phone a couple more times, he gave up and threw it against the wall. Wasn't the first phone he'd lost to anger, wouldn't be the last. Noah had just sat down on their bed, the cold duvet shifting under his weight, when something on the dresser caught his eye. When his gaze zeroed in on Rachel's wedding ring sitting there, he saw red. She left her ring. She left her damn ring.
Rachel nursed the rum and coke she'd made herself as soon as she'd walked into her room. She flipped through the photos on her phone, practically all of them of her and Noah at various points during their marriage, the happy fleeting moments making her throat clench up. When she closed out the photo section of her phone, seeing that her husband hadn't bothered to call her yet to try and get her back, she resigned that their marriage was indeed over. He used to fight for her, beside her. But now, day after day, it felt like he was against her more than anything. Rachel loved him, god knows she tried to stop, but she'd had unhealthy relationships in the past and it always started with the fighting. It would only get worse and she just couldn't deal with that. She had to get out before it got worse.
With her glass drained of its contents, she looked out at the Los Angeles skyline and felt the tears trickling down her cheeks. She wasn't even close to being drunk enough for the memory lane stroll her brain was certainly going to drag her down. Rachel got up and closed the curtains on the floor to ceiling windows, sick of the view that never changed. As she stepped over to the mini-bar to fix another rum and coke, she heard the distinct sound of a key-card being slid into the lock, on the door to her room. Rachel looked up in time to see Noah walking into her hotel room. The only way to describe the look on his face was positively livid.
"Noah what are you doing here? How did you get in here?"
"Oh I just told the fucktard at the front desk that I was meeting my wife but I'd forgotten my key to our room. Care to explain what the fucking hell this is?" Noah was holding her wedding ring up between them, almost shoving it at her accusingly.
"That's my wedding ring Noah. I shouldn't be needing it for much longer anyway so I thought it would be proper to give it back. I called my lawyer this morning and set up a meeting for tomorrow. I wasn't lying when I told you I couldn't do this anymore." He stuck the ring into his shirt pocket and shook his head.
"You're so full of bullshit and you know it Rachel. I'm not gonna give you a divorce. I don't care. I'll fight it the whole fucking way. I'm not gonna let you take everything we have, everything we've built together, and throw it away." Rachel released a derisive laugh as she continued to make her drink, letting the ice chips plink into the glass one by one.
"So what is this Noah? You fighting for our marriage or just against me? Because it's too late for the first choice and I'm sick of the second one. It's just not worth the heartache anymore." Rachel lifted the glass to her lips and tried to ignore the way her hand shook, rattling the ice within.
"You're just gonna give up? I'm not gonna let you pretend that we don't love each other anymore just because it'll make it easier on you. You say we're too different, but that's a bullshit excuse and you know it. Our differences are why we're perfect for each other. The only reason I will accept as to why you want out of our marriage is if you don't love me!" Noah's chest heaved as he breathed harshly through his hose. His nostrils were flared and his jaw set in obstinate anger. Rachel turned so that her body was fully facing him and Noah noticed that she was wearing one of his button down shirts. She must have thrown it into her bag without paying attention.
"I don't love you Noah." She lifted her glass to her lips once more, forcing her stare to be as defiant as his stance. He waited until she swallowed before he took the glass from her hands and drained it so that only the ice cubes remained. When he threw it against the wall, it seemed to explode into a thousand shards of rum-laced glass. Rachel gasped as he did it, feeling her skin ignite in goosebumps.
"Liar," he spat harshly. Rachel refused to back down even as he stepped closer to her invading her space. She narrowed her gaze at him and jutted her chin out.
"I don't love you," she repeated slowly, emphasizing each word with venom. The words had barely passed her lips before his hands dug into her shoulders through the fabric of the shirt and he pushed her up against the wall. She felt her feet scrape against the glass covering the carpet before he lifted her up, bracketing his hips to hers and holding her to the solid surface. Her legs wrapped around him out of instinct, an instinct she wanted to fight, and she dug her fingers into his shoulders. Rachel stared down at him, glaring daggers at him as best she could while feeling him pressed against her center. "I hate you," she whispered. Noah's stoic appearance suddenly relaxed just slightly and he had the nerve to smirk at her.
"You're changing your tune already baby. Hating me isn't the same as not loving me. Hate I can handle. Hate is passion and heat, so is love. Face it Princess." Noah pushed his hips a little harder against her, making her wince, and pulled the collar of her (his) shirt away from her neck. He kissed a short trail from her collarbone up her neck and stopped at her ear. "You still love me, and I will never stop loving you." Rachel whimpered and swallowed, attempting to stifle the sob that threatened to wrack her body.
He pressed his mouth against hers roughly, gripping the hair at the back of her head to hold her lips to his. Her tiny fists balled up at his shoulders, hitting, punching, pushing, anything to put space between their bodies. But then his tongue slipped across her lips and her hand faltered for a split second. The next blow that landed on his shoulder wasn't as strong as she'd meant it to be. Her lips started to mold to his before she knew what was happening. Noah pulled away for a breath but that tiniest pause made her open her eyes. She got her bearings suddenly and found her strength.
She started pushing on his shoulders again with more force than necessary, shaking her head to keep him from kissing her again and making her forget everything. Rachel dropped her legs from around his waist and kept pushing at his chest until he released her from the wall. Once her feet were back on the ground, she shoved at him and skirted around behind him before he could slip his hand back into her hair like she knew he would do.
"Okay fine Noah!" Her scream caught him by surprise but she pointed her finger at him and continued with her voice raised. "I still love you! Is that what you want to hear? There! I said it." He walked towards her but she put her open palm up between them to stop his advance. "No, you stop. It doesn't matter. I want you to leave." His fists clenched but he breathed out evenly.
"Like hell I'm leaving," he said simply. Her face was moist from the tears that had started flowing freely again, her lips were swollen and red from his kiss, and the shirt was still hanging off one of her shoulders from where he'd popped one of the buttons off before. His gaze drifted down her long legs to her bare feet as she shifted awkwardly under his stare.
"Stop looking at me like that!" Rachel rushed forward with her hand still out and he knew she was about to slap him. When she reared back, he caught her wrist with ease and pulled her closer. Noah tightened his hold only slightly when she tried to jerk out of his grasp. He couldn't get over how vulnerable she looked, so much like herself again. She was a strong woman, he knew that, but beneath the surface she was still a scared girl. It was the combination that made her great, made him fall in love. This time, when he leaned his head down to kiss her, she met him in the middle.
His fingers were working on the rest of the buttons on the shirt when she bit down on his bottom lip. She was still pissed. Good, because he was still hurt. She pulled at his clothing until he took the hint and removed his own shirt while she took her arms out of her sleeves. Noah lifted her up again, gripping her ass hard and feeling the lace of her panties scratch at his palms. When he didn't lay her out on the bed, she was surprised but gasped when her back hit the wall for a second time. Rachel grabbed on to the wall sconce beside her head and shifted in his arms.
"Pants Noah," she moaned against his neck. His jeans dropped to his ankles instantly and his boxers, as per usual, were nonexistent. Rachel felt the blunt head of his penis pushing at her lace covered entrance. With his hips, he pushed her a little harder against the wall and reached between them. She heard the first tear he made in the lace and the following rip as he pulled the shredded piece of fabric from her body to toss it carelessly behind them. She gripped the sconce a little tighter, lifting herself up and rubbing her folds against him. Noah growled in response and narrowed his eyes at her. With her free hand, Rachel pulled forcibly on the hair at the back of his neck and crashed her lips to his. His mouth was brutal and unforgiving, but so was hers. They fought each other until their lungs screamed for air, took a breath and resumed the battle with their tongues. When he snapped his hips, slipping so effortlessly inside her, he didn't give her time to react before pulling out again.
Rachel dropped her legs but dug her knees into his sides to stay up. She scratched his neck on purpose before directing his mouth back to hers. There was fury behind her lips, and pain behind his. She whimpered when a harsh snap of his hips thrust her into the wall and dropped her hand from the light to wrap around his neck. He could feel her pebbled nipples brushing against his chest each time he drove his hardened cock up into her body. She started to breathe faster, grappling at his sweaty shoulders and rolling her center in time with him. He groaned out loud and looked up at her, breathing out a soft "Rachel" that had her eyes suddenly shining differently.
Noah paused his movements and swallowed as he reached up to brush some of her hair out of her face. Rachel tried to move but he still had her securely against the wall. She could feel his hands moving on her butt. Once he had a secure hold on her, Noah moved back from the wall and walked over to the bed. He bent over and laid her out on the mattress, watching the confusion leave her face when he spread her legs wider. She arched her body with a moan and he used the moment to kiss a trail up her chest. Rachel threaded her fingers through his hair as he did so, making his responding yet muffled grunt vibrate against her skin. He pushed into her, listening to her quiet whispers of "please" and "harder". Her body was reacting fast, so fast he could tangibly feel her reaching that boiling point.
"Stay my wife Rachel," Noah muttered against her lips before plunging deep. She tangled her tongue with his and pulled his body closer. She knew his body well, so it wasn't a surprise when he moaned out loud as her fingertips fluttered a pattern on his left shoulder blade. Rachel could feel the love in his movements, and suddenly it all didn't matter anymore. Their fights and arguments, it was all unimportant compared to the way he was making her feel, the way he would make her feel for as long as she'd let him.
When her orgasm hit, she felt like she was drowning while her body was consumed by fire. Her screams became muted by his mouth on hers and she gave in to everything. The freedom she felt in his arms was greater than anything she'd felt apart from him. Her body continued to pulse around him even after he reached his own peak. He kissed the corner of her mouth before rolling over beside her.
Rachel could feel her husband's stare. She turned to look at him and found she was right. He licked his lips and started to throw his arm across her torso but she moved off of the bed before he had the chance. When she was standing up straight again, he smirked at her and placed his hands behind his head. Rachel walked around the bed and saw all of their clothes strewn all over the floor. Something glittering on the carpet caught her eye. When she bent to pick it up, attempting to ignore the appreciative noise that Noah made behind her, she realized it was her ring. Rachel stared at it for a minute in her hand before turning around to face Noah again. She took a deep breath and looked from the ring to him, then back again.
"I think I need to call my lawyer."