Title: Fire
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Rachel /
Quinn Rating: R
Words: 726
Disclaimer: I do not own the show nor any of these characters. If they were mine, I'd be rich first, and second, surely there would be a conspiracy in place to prevent them ever closer to each other! (Which is a damn shame, because Lea Michele and Dianna Agron have a great chemistry!)
Warnings: Femslash in all its majestic power (no lol oh well, no hot lesbian sex, there is too galvanized)
Spoilers: Sectionals, perhaps? It is not stating anything about that anyway.
Author's Notes: This happens when Glee faberry without end and when I read an obscene amount of faberry fanfictions. The song that I was inspired by the crime is: Fire Bruce Springsteen originally, sung by Kristin Chenoweth in Glee and Matthew Morrison.
Summary: "I say I do not like it, But you know I'ma liar Cases When we kiss, oooh fire. "
I hate what I do.
I hate the feelings aroused in me. Feelings that should not exist.
Damn, I'm Quinn Fabray, the Queen of this stupid school.
[Or at least it was a few months ago.]
And now? Who am I now? What am I doing in the car most annoying person on the planet?
Rachel Berry, with his horrid hand-made sweaters, his fake smiles,
[there is so much sadness behind those smiles]
Stakhanovism his suicide, enthusiasm and inappropriate chatter that they do come probably wants to 99.9% of people put a sock in his mouth. not really know what I take. I must be crazy. Test output. The hormones of pregnancy to be fully taken possession of my body. Maybe the aliens abducted me while I slept.
[or maybe you just can not find it so unbearable]
There is no explanation otherwise. There is no explanation for the fact that for a month now I let it take me home.
But when she lowers the radio (some stupid showtune), the machine stopped in the parking lot a few miles from my home, and kisses me, drawing her to him, I do not protest.
I hate Rachel Berry, really. But when she kisses me, everything is fire. My body burning and tingling of pure energy. And I can not help it. It is impossible to stop.
And she knows it. You know that, no matter how insulting every day of his school life, everything I say is a lie. Everything I try to convince me is a lie.
But I can not live otherwise. I have always lived in a lie.
is read as if after all the layers of steel that I built to defend myself. And he knows
chin when I say I want to stay alone in a cold house and an enemy in every respect. He knows that behind my detached façade, my skin, my muscles, my whole body quivers painfully, almost tending towards his touch.
I always hated so much by surprise to many people. What had I done? But was her own exist, to make me get excited. That
his way to sneak under the skin almost unnoticed.
It started when I heard her singing for the first time. Since then, I could not put out the fire that burned inside me whenever Nanetta
[not so low now that I think]
had the indecency to open his mouth. I attacked the fire with buckets and buckets of cold water, not giving importance to the flame that was getting higher. I invented the epithets most unlikely to buckle. I humiliated in every way known to man. But the flame still flickering, almost mocking. against my will, my mind compare our story to all those that came before. It could almost be a story to Romeo and Juliet, except that a) I hate it b) I have no intention of being Romeo c) Juliet was an idiot, and there is absolutely no way that I can identify with she
[c) we would not finish as they ever].
But when he kisses me, holy God. There's nothing left. Romeo and Juliet are nothing in comparison. No comparison with any stupid stupid natural event can never describe what I feel when that subspecies of Streisand wannabe-kiss me. Burn my hands on her hips, her cheeks. My lips are burned permanently.
And after every kiss, I feel the fire, instead of fading, increases its momentum, but moves, deeper and deeper. Lower and lower.
After each kiss, I feel as if I had one thousand km journey on their knees, as if I climbed Everest, as if I just left a session of ECT.
And it's really stupid to think of it, but it is as if the fire had consumed everything. All the lies and falsehoods. All gone. And I would really give me a slap on the forehead for having exchanged the fire of hatred. Because I never loved so much sunburn in my life.
And I would not ever stop, and I want the fire to overwhelm me to consume every bit of me, except my lips.
her, she has always been aware of this. And he laughs when I try to describe the effect that makes me. But I can not help a meno. Non posso fare a meno del fuoco.
Perché quando mi bacia, io brucio.
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