Get It Right
Faberry (oh yea)
Summary: Rachel and Quinn get to talking about their futures in New York. Rachel is tired of hiding behind
A/N:I meant to write something completely different, so there will likely be another Faberry fic coming up if i can get it out. This fic is inspired by "Until We Bleed" by Kleerup with Lykke Li had the song on repeat for days.
"You were right you know...partially."
"What - Rachel." Realization dawned on her features.
Rachel Berry said nothing, instead setting down her empty glass of what was formally some Puck - invented concoction, setting her eyes back to Quinn's.
"Right about what?"
"What you said about you, Finn, and I before regionals last year. I've recieved a letter from Juliard. I'm going to New York."
"Oh. Look Rachel, I already apologized about that. But know what you mean. And I don't care about Finn."
A smiled graced the singer's features before she spoke. "I know."
"Then what did you mean? Partially right?" Quinn asked, delicate brow raised above her left eye. She set her own drink aside.
"Only that I heard you were accepted by Columbia. Is that true?"
The wide, luminous smile that dominated her facial features made it all but impossible for Quinn not to smile; so she did, allowing the joy to reach her eyes. She wasn't particularly sure why Rachel was so interested in her future, or why she'd even brought up the conversation they'd had last year. But after all of that, she supposed there was no harm in talking to Rachel about their dual futures in the city, far away from Lima, Ohio.
"Yes. I was accepted."
"Oh! How wonderful! Have you decided to attend as of yet? And have you decided what to study, and what to do for boarding? Or -"
Quinn found herself utterly amused and laughed out loud as proof of it. But she had to cut the overzealous girl off.
"God, Rachel...calm down. Ask me one question at a time, and I'll try to answer it okay?"
Rachel slowly let a playful frown appear on pouty lips before nodding and smiling again.
"Ok. I believe I can do that. So have you decided to attend Columbia, Quinn?"
Quinn brushed blonde locks behind her ear and nodded affirmatively.
"So have you decided what to study?"
"I was thinking about studying something really creative. Like art history, or...architecture, or..." She cut herself off. The last thing she needed was Rachel Berry laughing at her about something as silly as what she almost said.
Rachel's eyebrows scrunched together over coffee eyes as she tilted her head to the right a bit. "Or what?"
"Or nothing. Art history...or architechture. Though those are just maybes"
"You were going to say something else. Just tell me, Quinn. I'm genuinely curious." They were sitting at Noah's bar now, drinking nothing, and Rachel placed her hand slowly on top of Quinn's to encourage her to speak.
The blonde in question flicked her right eye over to the small, soft, hand on top of her own. She wasn't really sure, knowing what she did now, why she had ever called Rachel manhands.
"I was...maybe interested...in majoring in drama." Quinn bit her bottom lip as she finished speaking.
Rachel tore her gaze away for a second, closing her eyes and thinking of what to say before she looked back, slightly pensive, before speaking.
"If you are truly interested in drama, Julliard would be a better school selection. More than 80 percent of Juilliard's drama alumni actively work in theater, film, and television."
"You totally read that off of the Julliard website or something, didn't you?"
Rachel nodded, smiling again, though it had yet to reach her eyes, Quinn noticed.
"I guess, I was a little worried at how stupid you'd think I was for suggesting that you'd ever want to go to school with me again."
The brunette spoke not a word, head down.
Quinn placed her slim hand on said girl's chin and lifted slowly, their eye's connecting quickly.
"I'll only be 15 minutes away at Columbia, okay? You won't be alone there, have to start all over."
Quinn wasn't sure when this conversation had turned from talking about school in New York to what it was now, but she didn't fight it when Rachel placed her small hand over hers on the brunette's chin, moving it up to cup the soft blush of her cheek.
"12. If you drive."
"Rachel..." she didn't want to tell the girl that no one drove in Manhattan.
"What is this about?" she flicked her eyes to her hand and Rachel's, still cupping the latter's cheek.
"I...I don't want to talk about it here. Take me home?"
"Yea. Let me go tell San and Britt we're going." She stood to go, but Rachel still hadn't let go of her hand. So she pulled both hands down slowly, linking her's with Rachel's and walking up to Santana and Brittany.
"Hey, guys, I'm going, okay? I'm gonna drive Rachel home."
Santana dislodged her face from B's to talk. "You're not drunk right?"
"Ok. Bye." Santana watched for a second as they walked away, reminding herself to ask Quinn about the hand holding the next day.
Quinn watched quietly as Rachel unlocked her front door. This was all becoming a bit strange. Rachel had held Quinn's hand almost the whole way to her house, waiting with her palm up when Quinn had to put the car in drive, park, or reverse, and get out of the car. If she was honest, it was nice to hold a hand that wasn't clammy and caloused, but soft and slim.
Rachel locked the door behind them, putting her keys on the ring and pulled Quinn behind her, and the blonde didn't resist ,following her up to her room and onto the brunette's bed; both of them with their legs tugged under them.
Finally, her patience nearly burned away, Quinn asked her again.
"What is this about, hm?"
Rachel layed back against her pillows, sitting straight up, and pulling Quinn to sit right next to her, their hands held intertwined between them.
"I finally realized something. After all this time, Quinn. Why I kept being so stupid. Chasing after Finn, kissing Noah, going out with Sam last summer...I-"
"You wen't out with Sam?"
"I know. My point is. I dated all of them and Jesse, and even Blaine, once. None of them made me happy. And I thought, after Sam...If i'd just stop ignoring myself, and think about it, that maybe I'd figure out what was wrong with me..."
Quinn squeezed Rachel's hand in her's. "There's nothing wrong with you, Rachel. You're beautiful. You just need to find the right g-"
"Girl Quinn. The right girl." Rachel pulled away her hand, going back to sit indian style in front of Quinn, a few feet away on her bed. She tried to control herself as she watched emotions flying through the blonde's eyes.
The right guy. That was what Quinn was saying. Before Rachel had interrupted her. Dropped a bomb of information on her. But she atleast knew why Rachel had dragged her all the way to her house. But why did Rachel come up to her that night. Why did the diminuative girl hold her hand all night? Why was she looking at her like that. Okay. She was waiting for Quinn to put 2 + 2 together. Figure it out. Figure out that Rachel liked girls. Rachel was gay. Ok. Rachel liked girls...
"You...you like me. You like me?" First Finn, then Puck, then Sam. Quinn wasn't really sure how she hadn't seen it coming before.
"Stop looking at me like that Rachel. I'm not going to freak out, ok?"
But what was she going to do?