By: Elitemassacre6

ship: Pezberry

Disclaimer: don't own it

A/N: Haven't written/published anything in so long. Cannot remember what I was listening to when I started this, but it stuck a hook in me and I couldn't really put it down for more than a week at a time without writing more for it. This is, yea. I kind of really dig any very good/great g!p fics involving Santana, but I think there's so much of that with Santana or Quinn equipped instead of Rachel or Britt and not enough of the reverse, so this very barely features Rachel with a g!p at least in reference. enjoy, or don't.

I hate you. You know I used to close my eyes and whisper that shit every time you walked away from me? You would say something like how you knew there was someone different, someone not as fucking "hostile" inside me, and that you couldn't wait until I decided to show you that one day. That you knew I would. Who says shit like that? You were too nice to me. Too fucking nice, too honest, too forgiving, and too beautiful to ever look at me like I was worth...fuck...anything.

But I had to hate someone, or I'd have completely hated myself. So I chose you. Not sure why. It was the most dumb-ass decision I'd ever made. You were a moving target, and I was a shit shot.

Sometimes, when I was by myself, I would let the bullshit go and find the faults in who I was. I'd hate myself, and through that, love you. Only for an hour a week, on those lovely Sundays I hated before you. I would watch your videos, and If I was desperate enough to, call your phone and hang up after you'd said a few words, the third time that hour, lecturing who you thought was a stranger on the edicate of calling wrong numbers. I'd get to hear that annoyingly perfect voice for twenty minutes, and you'd get to practice your love for teaching anyone how to do anything right. It was perfect. It wasn't until we graduated and you called me on that same number that I had never given you that I realized you'd known it was me almost the entire time.

It took me until senior year to realize that hating myself wasn't so bad if I got to stand next to you and sing and smile and be happy for that few hours a day that was glee. It was so lame and so fucking awesome to put up that picture of you in my locker and then open it a few times a day and see you smiling at me like i mattered to you. Like i was him. That fucking loser single-handedly caused those lonely Sundays to become more like lonely months.

Losing my parents wasn't that bad, I guess. You told me that my family never deserved me to begin with. Like I was someone that had to be deserved. Someone to be loved. You told me I was beautiful, and I can still remember the way your eyes widened and you smiled at me a little when I yelled at you, told you to stop lying to me. I didn't understand completely what that meant at the time. Didn't know that you felt just as broken, ugly, and unloved as I did.

I can remember first moving to new york after I'd finally nagged that civil engineering degree I told you about, and the architecture degree that I didn't, my eye on planning and designing stupid roof-top gardens and green skyscrapers that I hoped you could be proud of.

You accepted me with open arms and that smile It had taken my dumb ass years to realize was reserved for me. Our two years of friendship was fraught with conflict based completely on my fucking idiocy. My need to feel like I wasn't hopelessly in love with you apparently fell on deaf ears as far as god was concerned. Every time I turned around, you were smiling, or in a perfect dress, or just being you. It was hard, but eventually I gave up. Letting myself fall over the edge you resided under with my eyes clenched tight.

I know you're probably wondering when this happened hobbit, because I never approached you about it, never gave you any purposeful clues. It's funny to think that it took until three years after I'd decided to just let go for us to go on our first date. When you asked me, frustration visible behind that beautiful mask of you remember the smile that curved my lips? The way I kissed you, gave you all of me in those few moments. You took control, and it was so satisfying to feel like maybe you finally knew that I had been yours from the beginning.

The life we'd already built around us evolved into something I know now we always wanted for each other, from each other. Do you remember when I graduated from grad school, the way you waited for Q, Britt, Tina, Kurt, and Puck to congratulate me before you pulled me close, saving those few amazing seconds for our memories. They all gasped when I leaned down and connected our lips like they'd only been three times before.

I remember, months later, falling into our bed with you, clothes covering the floor...the way you felt inside me, the words you whispered onto the skin above my heart. The I love you I'd already felt from you but never heard. I searched for a few moments for the words that would make you understand that I loved you too, that I had always loved you. All of you. They didn't come, so I repeated your words back, hoping you could see it in my eyes.

Right now, baby, I'm hoping you can hear it in my voice when I say that I love you. That somewhere inside that magnificent mind of yours you'll hear me crying out for you and try to climb out.

They say you might not wake up, but they don't know you. Don't know that you've had to fight for everything good you have in your life. I know that you'll wake up, and in the meantime, love, me and Lex are right here, waiting for you.