(LONG-ASS AUTHOR'S NOTE! Feel free to skip ahead to the actual chapter, of course. You may want to at least read the bolded recap I post right before it starts though, to refresh your memories!)

Hi, friends. :) It's been a long time. Like…over five years, to be exact!

I will say this to defend my honor (haha): I made sure not to leave you guys without the big-reveal happening first. That is, when Quinn told Rachel how she feels, and they finally kiss and get together. I did at least make sure that I had those chapters written and posted before I fell away from this, so I hope that softened the blow that you guys got the epic, giant-sized-chapter prom scene and kissing to hold you over for five years! Haha.

I stopped updating this story for a few reasons. One is that I struggled with debilitating mental health issues. Years later, after therapy, medication, and meditation, and actively working to rewire my brain to positive thinking, I am much better. I feel like a whole new person, in the best possible way.

Another reason I haven't worked on fanfiction in a while is because I've been writing original-character fiction, and it is a timely endeavor indeed. My ultimate dream is to be a published author. So, I have to devote most of my writing time to those works. All other writing works of mine fell by the wayside.

The third reason is this: Glee became a hot mess of trash in its later seasons. I started becoming disillusioned in season three (although I cherish that season three has some of the best Faberry moments!), completely gave up on it halfway through season four, and to this day have not watched any episodes from the second half of season four through the end of season six.

And there's the behind-the-scenes of it all – things that devastated me or made my stomach turn, things that made me distance myself even further from Glee…how Cory, whom I cherished as if he were my own friend, tragically died. And Mark Salling – the horrible things that came out about him, things I 100% am against and am disgusted/infuriated by…and how those horrors resulted in even more tragedy in the end with his suicide, yet another member of the cast gone to tragic ends. A reminder that Finn and Puck are NOT Cory and Mark. Writing positively about Puck is not an endorsement for the illegalities and perversions of Mark Salling. And although I want Finn to be layered in this story, to have his good and bad moments, those bad moments are of course not at all an indicator of my feelings of the actor who portrayed him.

However, even though my obsession and love of Glee faded, my love of two of its characters has not. Faberry is very important to me. I may go months without thinking about them, but every once in a while, they'll pop into my head, and I'll be overcome with the urge to dive into fanfiction about them, to watch scenes of the show with them in it, to try and re-immerse myself in their fandom. Because of Faberry, I was able to accept my own sexuality. I've since come out to most people in my life as bisexual (and it's thankfully gone very well!). I've found a special love in my own heart time and time again, just by reading or writing about these two loveable dorks falling in love with each other. These girls really mean a lot to me. :') And I know they mean a lot to you, too!

I fell away from this story. I always thought I would continue it, but then I also thought I wouldn't, because it seemed such a large task. But then I realized…even if there is just one of you out there who connected with this story, who loved it as much as I loved some stories I've read on here…even if just one of you has been waiting all this time, hoping I'll update, not forgetting that this story even exists in the first place… Well, then taking the time to write this all out, to finish the story, will be worth it: to do it for you. And to do it for me, for that part of me that fell in love with Faberry and still does love them all these years later.

So, this is to you, whoever has stuck with this for years: thank you. *hugs and hearts galore!*

And this is to you, any new readers who found this because I updated it now. Congrats! You get to binge and don't have to wait a ridiculously long time between chapters. Some people waited YEARS for this shit. LOL

Also, I started writing this story SIX YEARS AGO (can you believe it?! *cries*). So, there are some parts of this that I look back on now and I'm kind of like…*criiiinnngggeeee* x'D hahahaha! But I think there's something special about the imperfection of it all, with fanfiction in general…you guys got to see my story be posted as I wrote it. I didn't write multiple versions of each chapter, for most of them. I would write it, and then after editing it a few times for grammatical errors, I would post it. And you guys would read it. And we would connect over the relationship between a tiny dramatic brunette and an angsty blonde with a heart of gold. And we still do connect over them. We connect over their laughter, their misunderstandings, their pining, their drama, and their love. Always, their love.

A note: I mentioned previously that I would maybe write a companion fic to this, all in Rachel's POV. I don't think I'll do that anymore, because it would just be such a big undertaking…this story already has almost 50 chapters and isn't even done yet, haha. But I do want to write some chapters of this story in Rachel's POV; I hope you guys will like that! And I may write a long one-shot companion piece to this, all in Rachel's POV, of her take on the biggest things to happen here. Realistically, I dunno if I'll ever get around to that. But, we'll see! For now, I have this story to finish first. And there's still quite a bit left.

So, here we go! Chapter Forty-Seven. It's been a long time coming. I hope you guys enjoy! :D Please leave reviews to let me know what you think. I've missed you guys! *hugs* :)

Here's a recap of the main plot-points that are relevant to this chapter, if you don't want to go back through this entire story and have to reread it first: Quinn lives with Rachel after being kicked out by her parents for being gay (they found out by her dad finding Quinn's diary). While living with Rachel, Quinn's friendship with her strengthens, until it is impossible for Quinn to deny her feelings: she's in love with the girl. In the last few chapters proceeding this one, Quinn pines for Rachel extra-hard…she feels utterly and hopelessly head-over-heels for her. Rachel tells Quinn that her relationship with Finn has been rocky lately, and that Finn has bought a hotel room for the two of them – he thinks that sex is what they need to reconnect. Quinn, of course, does not approve of this idea. During the prom, the girls share tender moments, especially while slow-dancing together. After talks with Santana and Puck, Quinn decides that she has to tell Rachel how she feels. She runs to the hotel room to find Rachel, professes her love, and – receives a profession of love right back. Quinn and Rachel kiss, and kiss…and kiss some more. Quinn finally got her 'prince charming!' :D *winks at the title*. lol

Then, the next chapter is in Rachel's POV. Quinn tells Rachel that she wants her to break-up with Finn as soon as possible so that she doesn't feel like Rachel is cheating on him, and Rachel agrees. Rachel reminisces to herself about the history of her relationship with Quinn, and how her own feelings of love grew over time for the blonde, from admiration to friendship to True Love. After much kissing, they finally pry their happy mouths apart and head to the prom after-party in the hotel, filled only with their fellow Glee Clubbers. Quinn dances with Puck and watches as Finn approaches Rachel and asks if they can talk in private. Finn and Rachel go into the private room adjoining with the suite they're all dancing in.

This chapter picks up with Finn and Rachel going into that private room together, and the conversation that follows…plus, probably, maybe more Faberry kissing…you'll just have to read to find out. ;)

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

RACHEL

I watch Finn's hand as he pushes the door closed behind us.

I feel as if those big, long fingers are pushing down on my chest, too, hard enough to cut off my next breath and make my heart thump painfully upwards, as if struggling against his grip.

We're officially alone.

I can't look at Finn, my eyes darting all over the place, and already a swarm of guilt festers in my stomach.

Just behind that door, all of our friends are dancing and having a great time. My girlfriend (the very word itself gives me a thrill in all the right places) is out there, twirling around in her pretty pink dress.

And I'm in here, in this tackily decorated hotel room with the boy who is, by technicality, still my boyfriend, but by my heart and mind, just someone who used to be important to me. He still is important, I mean. He always will be. But it's already in a nostalgic way, already scribbling out the 'boy' from that word until only – hopefully – the word 'friend' remains.

But who knows? Maybe after I break up with him, Finn won't even want to be that. Not that I could blame him. Who wants to be pals with the person who dumps you and breaks your heart? Or perhaps it's arrogant of me to assume that breaking up with Finn would cause that much emotional damage to make him –

"Rachel."

The way he says my name is hard and snappish, catching my attention and making my eyes jerk to his face – which is just the opposite of his tone: filled with a raw kind of worry and sadness that makes it hard for me to breathe again.

I can't speak.

I just stare.

He stares back, and then sighs, lifting his hands to cover his face and drag down as if trying to physically scrub away his stress. His shoulders hunch, and his hands drop, revealing tiredness in his eyes.

"What's going on?" He licks his lips, shakes his head. "Why didn't you come to my hotel room? It's not like I smell bad… Do I?" He raises an arm, sniffs at his pit. "No, I smell fine. And I brushed my teeth twice! So, why have you been acting so grossed-out by me?"

"I haven't!" I burst out, maybe too quickly, my eyes widening and head shaking a few times too many.

"Really?" He crosses his arms, nostrils flaring. "Then why did I have to practically drag you away from Quinn to get you in here to talk to me?" When I'm silent in response, his eyes flash with indignity. "I don't get it, Rachel! What the hell?! I'm your boyfriend. I'm the one you're in love with, last I checked! She's just your friend! I get that you feel sorry for her and have to always be at her side or whatever, but – "

"That's not it," I say, quietly, having to fight to keep from nibbling at my mouth, where I can still the imprint of her mouth from all the times we kissed earlier. I thrust my shoulders back, trying to affect an air of confidence, but my hands are jumping together, fingers squeezing out a beat of anxiety.

"Huh?" He blinks into focus at my interruption, confused, as if with his vehement rant, so enthralled with his own tirade of emotions, he forgot that I'm actually here, right in front of him.

"I'm not always around Quinn because I feel sorry for her. That's not why," I'm almost mumbling, but my eyes are braver, not breaking from Finn's squinting ones.

Finn's voice is hushed, emotion crackling beneath, the most heartbreaking hint of tears: "I know she's, like, your best buddy, okay? You don't have to rub it in. Her becoming gay has been one of the worst things to happen to me, because it made you guys all BFFs and stuff, and it made you want to spend way less time with me and way more time with her!" Just the way he says 'her' is an insult, an accusation, and he's gesticulating wildly, jabbing a finger at his chest, in the air, at me – all over the place. "How do you think that makes me feel, Rachel?" His voice cracks on the word 'me.'

My throat tightens and eyes sting with tears. Without my permission, I feel words beginning to rise from my depths, leaving a tremble through my body on their path to my lips.

"Okay, first of all, she didn't just 'become' gay" I throw nasty finger-quotes around the word, defensiveness flaring up amidst so many other feelings "and her being gay is the worst thing to happen to you? That's such a selfish thing to say, Finn! Quinn has been through so many hard situations, none of which are your problem! And 'worst thing'? There is nothing wrong with her being gay! People can't help who they're attracted to, or who they fall in love with."

For the life of me, I can't stop talking. "A-and, you know, even if they could help it, why should they have to pick being with the opposite gender, when maybe the same gender is more appealing to them at the time? Why does it have to be so 'either-or' in this society? Why can't you just be with who you love? Huh? Why?!"

My chest is heaving and my breaths are shallow and my eyes are fiery as they bore into his. I feel my face growing hot and red and my heart pounding hard against my chest.

Finn makes stuttering noises, his expression floundering. "That's not even what this is about, okay?!" he yells it, so loudly and furiously that we both flinch, and then he drops his voice to a more moderate, and more earnest, volume.

"I don't care about Quinn right now," he says, with so much seriousness in his eyes that my stomach plummets. He moves toward me; I'm frozen to the spot. Gulping, I let him take my hands in his. "I don't mean that rudely, so don't start yelling at me again. I just mean that, right now, all that is important is us, Rachel." His voice and eyes soften; his fingers start rubbing against mine, calloused and dwarfing mine.

I remember how much I used to love that. A part of me still does: the way just one of his hands is the size of both of mine. But Quinn…her hands…they fit mine perfectly. Not too big, not too small. Like they were made for me.

The tears return to my eyes, warmer and swifter; I blink rapidly to keep them at bay.

He bends down a few inches, lowers his eyes to meet mine head-on.

He's so much taller than my shortness; Quinn has only a few inches on me, the perfect height difference.

His eyes are so brown, with such short lashes; Quinn's are so green, with splashes of hazel-gold, and eyelashes so long and girlie.

Finn's face is so chiseled and boyish and handsome; Quinn's is so soft and delicate and beautiful.

There is a lump in my throat; the tears overwhelm my vision. I blink, and they spill over.

"Hey," Finn's eyebrows pucker together. He drops one of my hands to lift a gentle, oh-so-gentle, tip of a finger to brush away the moisture on my cheeks. My eyes close against his touch as my next breath shudders out. "Don't cry. We're going to be okay." I open my eyes; his face has traveled even closer to mine, his lips just a few inches away now. His words pepper his warm breath against my face as he says, "I love you, Rachel. But do you…" His eyes turn scared. "Do you still love me?"

Not knowing what to say, my mouth stutters out "I – "

But I'm interrupted by his lips driving into mine, sliding into place against my half-open mouth, both his arms dropping to my waist to wrap around and pull me flush against him.

He's kissing me, with more passion and depth than I think he ever has before; my eyes are wide-open, staring at his closed ones, at how they squeeze at the corners with passion. I let my eyes close, but they want to open immediately. I place on hand on his chest…but I can't bring myself to push him away. I feel nothing at his kiss, no butterflies or racing pulse or even the softest shimmer of fireworks. But I do feel like I owe it to him, to all that we had in our relationship, to give him this last one.

I bring my other hand up to his face and touch the scratchy stubble just barely sprouting at his jaw. He feels nothing like Quinn, smells and tastes and kisses nothing like her. I wish I were kissing her instead. I wish I were in her arms, my mouth on her lips, and her softness and curves and scent of girlish sweetness all against me.

I kiss Finn back, going through the motions, but it's too scratchy, too wet, too hot-breathed from him… And I feel nothing.

Nothing but sadness: at knowing that he is already my past, when I once thought he was my future.

And guilt: toward Finn, for not being in love with him anymore; toward Quinn, for kissing someone else, anyone else, other than her; and toward myself, for forcing myself to stay in a relationship with Finn for so long and denying myself my true feelings elsewhere because I was too afraid of so many things.

And another feeling, wrapping everything together: just wanting to be anywhere but here right now.

After a few seconds that feel longer than they probably are, I drop my hand from his face to cover my other hand on his chest and use both to push him away from me in a way that is both gentle and firm. My head pulling back and turning slightly to the side to break my lips apart from his, I take a much-needed pull of fresh air into my lungs.

After stepping backward once, twice, I turn my neck back to face him, my eyes taking in his as they blink open, his mouth still half-puckered.

Having to resist the urge to wipe at my mouth with the back of my hand, I start to speak, just a barely-there sound escaping, but Finn cuts me off.

"I thought you still loved me," his voice crackles with accusation, with misery. "But the kiss…it was different. You didn't kiss me like you used to. You kissed me like, you…like you didn't even want to."

"Finn – "

"Do you still love me? Please, just…answer me."

"Finn, you will always be very important to me, okay? And – "

"Please, Rachel. Just yes or no… Do you still love me?"

I hang my head, breaking eye-contact, for just a second, to take a deep, steadying breath. When my eyes meet his again, I say, with a great amount of effort, my chest squeezing tight and my eyes burning with fresh tears: "No."

Finn's head yanks back as if slapped, and his face squinches up, and I can hear his heart shattering in the silence. And with it, the future I'd planned for us for so long breaks along with it.

That one word – "no" – hushed but firm, hangs between us for what seems like a long time. A countless amount of time. And then – Finn shakes his head, the utter despair that was twisted upon it just a second ago now going hard and cold and blank, and he whips around toward the door.

"Wait!" I spring forward, yanking at his arm, pulling him back – and quickly dropping my grip from him and stepping back again, my teeth sinking into my lower lip as I blink up at him.

"What?" he snaps.

"Wait, Finn, we, we…we have to talk about this, okay?!" I'm frantic, bouncing on my toes, wringing my hands together. "Please don't just storm out! Please, at least…let me explain."

Finn folds his arms across his chest and squares off against me, his expression now both cool and stormy, one eyebrow quirking up. "You just told me you don't love me anymore; that sounds like enough of an explanation for me. Unless you're going to tell me this is all one big mean joke, then I don't want to hear it!"

My tears are falling at a thick, rapid pace; I can feel my eyelashes smearing against my cheeks with mascara, leaving behind tiny wet clumps. "I still love you." My hands are trembling as they grasp each other; my mouth sounds like it's full of marbles. "I'm just not in love with you. C-can't that be enough? For us to still be friends?"

Memories and emotions fill my mind until I'm swimming in them:

Finn's smile: how it's dopey when he's being sweet with me and dopily self-satisfied when he thinks he's said something clever. And how he doesn't smile at all, but rather looks away bashfully, when he's actually said something clever. All the butterflies in my stomach during our first date. All the times he opened the car door for me, or called me 'beautiful,' or tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. The scent of his cologne, always comforting, so familiar. The way his mere presence beside me used to make me feel so protected, and even now, despite the tension in the air, is – at the base of his being – comforting.

I don't want to lose him.

The times – few and far between, but still so very special – when we made each other really laugh, loud and true and filling up the space between us with warmth and all the things we couldn't say, or didn't know how to, not mattering in that moment, replaced with a simple joy instead. And how, long before we were together, I once filled a page of my diary with 'Mrs. Rachel Hudson' until my hand cramped and the ink bled together. And how, when I'd showed it to him after we'd been dating for a few months, his face had lit up and he'd kissed me so hard that I'd forgotten my own name, Berry or Hudson or whatever it was.

I can't lose him.

But he's looking at me in a way that makes me very, excruciatingly aware of my shortness and his tallness, and then there is so much pain on his face and he says, "Maybe someday. But not when I'm still in love with you. So…maybe never."

I hug myself around my waist, hands gripping tightly at my elbows.

He shakes his head, not looking at me anymore, and gives a dry, rough chuckle. "Dumped on fucking prom night; as if my life couldn't be more of a cliché."

And then he's turning the doorknob, leaving the room, closing the door behind him with a quiet click – and I back up, one foot behind the other, still staring at the door, until I fall onto the bed and just sit there, still staring, hands clenching together.

And tears keep falling down my face as I think of him saying "I love you."

The first time, over a year ago, and how I had thought of nothing but him and our future together.

And the last time, minutes ago, and how I had thought of nothing but Quinn and our future together.

There's a little bathroom connected to this bedroom; I head for the sink and sigh at the damage of my reflection. Mascara stains running to my chin; eyes, reddened and puffy.

I splash my face with cold water and use a towel to wipe myself clean until all of my makeup is gone and I look kind of tired, kind of younger, but no longer like a melting oil painting.

I think of Quinn and feel like I'm betraying her to be this upset over ending things with Finn. A new wave of guilt crashes through my stomach; I groan.

Bracing my hands against the sink's countertop, I lean forward to the mirror, stare myself in the eyes, and say, "Pull yourself together, Berry! Come on!"

"Rachel?" That beautiful, soft, musical voice calls out. "Are you in here?"

I jerk away from the mirror, relief already easing into me. "I'm in the bathroom."

Quinn steps inside a few seconds later; my heart flutters, stomach loosens, and a smile pulls up my lips. She's like a miraculous cure to all ailments, that one.

"Hey, you," I say with an ever-growing smile, but to my annoyance, have to sniffle a little.

"Hey," Quinn walks over, her head tilting and lips pursing in concern. "Is everything okay?"

"Am I a total bitch?" I blurt out, the words loud and hysterical and cracking apart as I start crying again.

Quinn's eyes widen and lips part open, and then she's pulling me into her embrace, cradling my head above her breasts, which is both very comforting and very distracting because, hello, breasts.

"No!" she says fiercely. "Don't ever say that! Why would you ever say that?" Her words are too honeyed to be a real scolding, and her arms around me are warm and firm. Against my ear, I feel the steady thump of her heartbeat; I focus on its solid pattern to calm me down.

I breathe until some of my messy emotions have cleared away, then release a shuddering sigh and can finally speak. My voice is just a little stuffy.

"I broke up with Finn. He still loves me, and I dumped him. On prom night, Quinn." I peel my face away from her chest and pull back just enough where I can lock my emphatically miserable eyes onto her sweetly worried ones. "On prom night!"

She smiles like she's trying not to and presses a quick, tender kiss to my forehead. Her eyes are twinkling, kind of sad but also kind of laughing.

"It's not funny!" I shriek.

"I know it's not," she says, her calmness only stoking my anger – though I'm not sure whom I'm really angry with. "I feel bad for Finn, I really do, but it's just… You're so cute. Especially when you're all serious."

"I'm glad my misery amuses you," I snap.

She does this little tsk thing at me that makes me narrow my eyes at her and want to kiss her so she can't make any damned condescending sounds again. Also because, ugh, those stupid perfect lips are just made for kissing… Especially in that way where she kind of nibbles at my lower lip and – focus, Berry!

Quinn is the only person I want to ever kiss again…and yet, just minutes ago, I let Finn kiss me and even returned the motions. My stomach sickens, and suddenly, it's a struggle to keep looking at her.

"Rach," she says, "Come on. I'm here for you." She squeezes her arms tighter around me, bores her eyes further into mine, which, against my will, are slowly softening. "I'm right here, okay? So don't try to push me away. Don't act like I can't take it."

I can't tell her; she'll break up with me, and we haven't even gone on an official date yet!

But I have to tell her, or the guilt will literally eat me alive. And yes, I know the definition of the word 'literally.'

I shake my head and drop my hands to where her arms circle my waist, pushing down on them firmly enough that she, with a frown that breaks my heart, breaks her hold. I step back from her.

"I did something bad." My voice is trembling again, nerves and leftover tears. "And I have to tell you, but I'm afraid you'll never forgive me."

Quinn bites on her lower lip as her brow furrows. "What happened?"

I take a deep breath, close my eyes for a moment, and decide that it's best to just rip off the Band-Aid. When I speak, it's a rush of words, fast and regretful. And though my tone gets more and more panicked, Quinn's face stays mostly neutral, a small mix of emotions flickering across but none strong enough for me to name.

"Finn kissed me, and I kind of kissed him back, but just because I felt like I owed it to him, okay? It wasn't like I actually liked it, and I was thinking of you the whole time, and it was just a kiss, but I shouldn't have done it, and I'm so sorry, honestly, Quinn, I am so sorry, I never should have done it, not even just as a goodbye kiss, you must really hate me and, and – "

Impossibly, a small smile pulls at her lips, and her eyes glow with emotion. Shaking her head, she steps forward and takes my hands within hers, pressing our palms together. Her eyes seize mine, and almost instantly my babbling stops.

"When you kissed him," she says, "did you feel anything? Anything for him at all?"

"No! Of course not."

"Not even one little butterfly?" She quirks one perfect eyebrow in that somehow-both-adorable-and-sexy way she has.

"No, not even one; I promise."

Her smile appears again, wider this time, but still simple, and her eyes turn even more tender as she cocks her head to the side and shrugs. Just like that: a gracious, blasé shrug. "Then, okay."

"What do you mean 'okay'?" I demand, my eyes bulging as I stomp my foot. "How can it be okay? I kissed him, Quinn! I'm a terrible person! You probably want to dump me right now, don't you?" I can feel the hysteria in my throat and the tears rising to my eyes again.

"Rachel, you know that you being a Drama Queen is one of the things about you that I love best," she says, "but seriously, don't be one right now. Tonight is the best night of my life!" Her smile breaks free, jumping full across her face, flashing her beautiful teeth and the shape of her beautiful mouth, and her eyes are so bright and happy and twinkling – I just stare at her, my stomach a full infestation of butterflies, reveling at her beauty.

"You and I are together," still grinning, she links our fingers together; we both squeeze, and now I'm smiling, softly and shyly and never with more joy. "And you and Finn are over for good. So, what if you had to kiss him one more time to make that happen? I don't like that you had to do it… But I'm not going to harp on it either."

And just like that, I can breathe again.

And now I'm crying, the happy, relieved, blubbering kind, and God, if she still finds me attractive in this state, then she really must love me.

"Oh," she coos, "baby," and she releases my hands so she can bring hers to cup my face. Her touch is gentle, warm, and her fingers are slender and so caring as they smooth over my cheeks and chin and beneath my eyes, ridding my tears for me.

She leans in and we share a soft, sweet kiss that makes me feel everything Finn's didn't, and then Finn and break-ups and anything but Quinn is thrown right out of my mind. As she's pulling away from the kiss, her fingertips dancing along my jaw, I release a little whining noise and lift up just-so on tiptoe, my arms flinging around her neck as I thrust up into her, our chests and stomachs pressing together as I kiss her harder, needier.

She releases this little moan that just…does things to me, unraveling me more with a husk of a sound than should be allowed. Our mouths move together, slipping and sliding and locking into place. Her hands drop to my hips, fingers digging into my dress until I can practically feel the skin of them through the fabric.

I wrench my mouth from hers to drop my lips onto her neck instead, where I kiss right at the dip between throat and collarbone – a hot, breathy, tongue-peeking-out kiss that makes her groan. Her hands squeeze up my sides, down to my hips, and back again.

I have half a mind to jump on top of her, ugh. My hands are fisting into her thick, soft blonde hair…hard enough that she kind of yelps, so I move my grip to her shoulders as I move my mouth back to hers.

With her soft, plump lips, she takes mine for all their worth – and then some more – my head spinning and muscles clenching everywhere and this is perfect, everything is perfect, there is nothing wrong in the world ever, not anywhere at all…

Our hands roam over each other, chastely searching, until our fingers find each other's and link together. With a smack, a delicious smack, our mouths pull apart, leaving sweet, matching little smiles behind as our eyes slowly open to find the depths of one another's.

"What about the after-party?" Quinn asks, her voice raw and husky and making me want to kiss her lips right off of her face.

"Forget the after-party." I let my fingers play with hers, stare down at them tangling and untangling, and then pull my gaze up to her lazy grin. "I don't want to be around anyone but you tonight." It would be too exhausting to go back out there and have to mingle with our friends while pretending that Quinn and I are still just friends.

Quinn giggles, her eyes on fire with joy and excitement. "What should we do? Fake a headache?"

"Now that you mention it… My temples are kind of throbbing…" I fold my face into a wince.

"Do you think you can pull it off, baby?"

"Baby," I say with a wink, "It's a role I was born to play."

"The role of 'person with a headache'?" Her intoxicatingly golden-green eyes twinkle with amusement.

"No – the role of getting you back to our room. Alone," I raise my eyebrows and purse my lips for comedic effect, and we both burst out laughing.

"Ahh, okay," Quinn says, smiling very softly. She drops my hands so she can place hers against my hips instead, and tugs me even closer to her. "I like that one much better."

We kiss, sweet and innocent. I sigh, my eyes closing, my toes curling blissfully. "Oh yeah," I whisper, snuggling against her as we hug, holding each other tightly. "Just like Broadway."