Log in

Previous Entry | Next Entry

Something Good Can Work ~ Chapter Four

Title: Something Good Can Work
RatingPG-13 (for language)
Pairing: Faberry
Warnings: some angst, and massive amounts of fluff. Also, major ooc will occur. like, major.
SummaryAURachel, a writer, takes a job at a small NYC coffee shop. There, she encounters Quinn- who works at her grandmother's flower shop just across the street and gives Rachel's life a complete 180 degree turn for the... interesting.
Author's NotesThe title hails from the Two Door Cinema Club song of the same name, and each chapter will be named after a song on my ipod, probably. yeh~
chapter four ~ Everybody Talks

After my alarm woke me on yet another Monday, I laid in bed for a while. Kurt would usually be up around this time making coffee or something, but it was quiet, so I assumed that he'd just stayed over at Blaine's or something. 

I reluctantly pulled myself out of bed, and got dressed for work- jeans and a black long sleeved shirt- and headed towards the bathroom. I glanced into the living room and...

oh god.

The first thing that caught my eye was the lamp nearest the door that had been knocked into the floor. It was undoubtedly broken.
second, there were clothes and pillows EVERYWHERE. The room was fucking destroyed. There was a shirt and a pair of pants on the tv. and there was a bowtie on the-

Wait. a bowtie. a goddamn bowtie.

Holy sweet hell.

I was close enough now that I could tell that someone was on the couch, and it was just as I'd suspected.

Kurt and Blaine. 

And they were naked.

I immediately retreated to my room. I was kind of in shock- it's not every Monday morning you stumble into your living room only to find it destroyed, and your best friend and his highschool sweetheart passed out on your couch. Naked. Even for me this was unusual.

Naturally, I did what anyone would do when faced with this situation.

I laughed. hard.

and then I decided to be a smart ass and make them breakfast.

So, I ventured out into the living room towards the kitchen, threw a blanket over the two of them, and made a series of unnecessarily loud noises.

Kurt could sleep through a hurricane, so he didn't even flinch, but Blaine woke up immediately and shook Kurt awake. Blaine's expression resembled that of a lost puppy, and Kurt just looked pissed that someone had the nerve to wake him up. When he saw that it was Blaine who had woke him, his expression softened. He squeezed Blaine's arm slightly to calm him, but Blaine looked really embarrassed to be in this spot. Kurt, on the other hand, he was a little more accustomed to being in these kinds of... predicaments. 

"You guys are probably very hungry," I shouted while nosily searching for the skillet, "so I'll make breakfast before I go to work."

Kurt threw me a questioning look. It wasn't a particularly nice look either.

"How about eggs and sausage?"

Blaine turned noticeably red, Kurt rolled his eyes at me, and I just laughed and dodged the pillow that was hurled at me about two seconds later.

I turned my back towards the living room so that they could both retrieve their underwear (if they could even find them), and I heard a lot of movement and then a huge thud, and an "oh my god are you okay" from Kurt, and then laughter. So after the movement calmed down and I figured it was clear to turn around, I continued on with my breakfast en devour. I decided that I should cook something that wouldn't make breakfast awkward, so we all agreed that pancakes sounded alright.

While I was cooking and Blaine was looking for his pants, Kurt was trying to go back to sleep, so I made even more unnecessarily loud noises and dodged a second pillow that was thrown at my head.

I finally got to work at 7:30 after having a surprisingly not-so-awkward breakfast with Kurt and Blaine, only to find the door locked and the sign in the window flipped to "closed". My heart sank when I realized that it was Martin Luther King Jr. Day, and I was incredibly pissed that I missed an opportunity to sleep in. So, since pretty much everything else was closed too, I thought I'd take advantage of this day off and head back home and... crawl back in bed.

It was still a nice day, so I chose to walk home and at least try to enjoy it, even though it was freezing cold.

I really hoped it would snow soon- New York was beautiful when it snowed. It flurried a good bit about two weeks before, but since then everything had melted into a miserable mess of slush and ice. I used to love going to Central Park after fresh snow had fallen, and I hadn't done that in quite some time. I concluded that it was well overdue. and who knew, maybe the next time it snowed and I took a trip to the park, maybe I'd meet someone there and, ya know, the whole "fate" thing would finally happen. Fate brought Blaine to New York to be with Kurt, wasn't it about time for it to bring someone to me? 

I was so lost in my thoughts, I failed to notice the glass door blocking my path until I was about an inch away... therefore, I crashed right into it.

Here's the funny thing about fate- sometimes, it slaps you in the face. In my case, it slammed my face into a flower shop door.

In the city, you have to pay close attention or you will run into shit. I'd learned that lesson about a year ago after walking into a street cart and spilling hot coffee all over myself, and as I stood there in pain with one hand on the door holding myself up, and one hand on my potentially broken nose, I was learning it all over again.

"oh my god, are you okay?" Yeah, that was a really stupid question. The voice sounded concerned and vaguely familiar, though.

It was Quinn. 

Yeah, I couldn't catch a fucking break. She probably thought I was an idiot, and I wouldn't blame her. At this point, I'd probably agree with her.

"Oh god, you're bleeding."

That wasn't surprising at all.

"We should to get some ice on that," she said, rubbing my back soothingly. She helped me keep my balance as I removed my
hand from the door so that I could step into the shop.

With my head tilted back in order to stop the bleeding, I was struggling to walk a straight line, so Quinn guided me to a small stool behind the counter. 

She disappeared through a door I wasn't able to locate because of all of the tissues in my face, and returned a few moments later with a ziplock bag full of ice that was wrapped in a dishtowel.

I replaced the tissues with the ice, while Quinn grabbed a different stool and sat down next to me, putting her hand on my shoulder in an effort to comfort me.

"Any better?" She said in a soft, sympathetic tone. 

Actually, yes. The pain had dulled down to a bearable point, and I no longer wanted to cry... as much.

"A little," I answered, repositioning the ice bag so that my voice wouldn't be muffled. "but I'm clumsy, so I'm used to it." 

I chuckled, because I really was so used to this. 

I ran into things all the time, and Kurt had pretty much mastered the art of first aid.

She sighed in what I hoped was relief, and a relaxed look returned to her face.

She stood up and moved her hand toward the ice pack, and nudged me to move my hand so that she could inspect the injury.

"It's definitely going to bruise, but I don't think it's broken." she diagnosed, and returned to her stool.

When the bleeding stopped, I was finally able to observe my surroundings.

The very first thing I noticed was that everything was so organized. Like, there wasn't any clutter. anywhere. The arrangements were even in color coordinated groups.

The walls were a light aqua color, and were lined with all kinds of interesting watercolors and paintings. The art wasn't even relevant
to the merchandise, but it just... worked. so well. There were watercolors of several different animals and even people, and there were paintings of central park, of the city, of other cities, abstract multimedia... it was just, wow. 

Then, I remembered when I'd run into Quinn at the art supply store. The encounter was what lead me to make my Quinn character an artist- so I wondered if my assumption was correct, and if I knew who these paintings belonged to.

I quickly glanced at Quinn, who I realized was now laying on the ground.


She looked up at me from below with bright eyes, and gestured for me to join her on the hardwood floor.

I did.

Quinn pointed to the ceiling, more specifically to a skylight that was there.

We laid there and looked through the glass- at the clouds, the birds, the faint outline of hovering skyscrapers.

It was Quinn who finally broke the comfortable silence.

"what's your favorite color?"

I turned to look at her, and she kept her gaze fixed on the ceiling.

Since I didn't answer after a few seconds, she continued. "mine's white," she spoke. "because it's simple and clean, and it goes
with anything."

I watched her lips as they slowly turned up into smile, and her eyes as they slowly drifted closed.

"mine is black."

Quinn scrunched up her face in a playful smirk. As I returned my gaze toward the ceiling, I felt hers hit the side of my cheek. "Why is that?"

"because it's all of the colors combined, so that way I don't have to really pick," I reasoned. 

"But if you had to choose one color exclusively," she interrogated, turning her whole body to face me and resting her head on her
arm. "which one would you chose?"

"Just one color? Sounds like too much of a commitment," I teased. 

We laughed. My laugh came out sounding kind of loud and raspy, while Quinn's was soft and quiet. I answered, "yellow, I guess."

"Yellow- the color of sunshine." she added as she stood up, and leaned over me. 

she held her hand out. "C'mon."

By that point, I had pretty much forgotten about the pain I was in ten minutes ago.

I took Quinn's hand and she helped me to stand, and then lead me to the front door. 

I watched her as she closed and locked the door, closed the blinds, and flipped the sign in the window to "closed".

I wore a puzzled look on my face as I waited for her to explain.

"It's cold outside."

well it's January, so... yeah. but what did that have to do with-

"Let's get some hot chocolate."

I just stood there, staring at her. She was so- peculiar, but in a good way. In the best way.

"But you already locked-"

"Everything is closed, so we'll go upstairs and I'll make some," she interrupted, a smile blooming on her face. "I promise it'll be
good, c'mon!"

she grabbed my hand again, this time forcing me to keep up with her as she sprinted towards the door behind the counter (which i
presumed was the door I'd been trying to locate earlier), and up the narrow staircase that lay behind it.

We reached the top of the staircase, and entered what I assumed was Quinn's apartment. The living room was no where as inviting
as the shop downstairs- the walls were white and blank, with exposed cement in places. It was nice, but it lacked color and...
personality. Obviously the person that decorated downstairs and the person that decorated this room were not one and the same. As I walked further into the living room, I noticed how high the ceilings were. At least thirty feet, I imagined. 

Above the living room was a loft, which Quinn told me was her bedroom. She said that there was another bedroom that belonged to her grandmother, who also lived here.

After observing the room a bit more, I looked back to Quinn. She was taking off her shoes, and throwing them into the living room to be dealt with later.

"Race you to the kitchen!" 

She barely got the words out of her mouth before she was off, and I was chasing after her. She got an unfair head start, though.

I was almost caught up with her, when she stopped dead in her tracks. Standing between us and the kitchen was an old woman in
a bathrobe, who looked.. less than pleased.

The lady snapped at us. She mostly ignored me and focused on Quinn, however. "What on EARTH do you think you're doing?"

Quinn hesitated to answer her. "This is... um... Rachel, and we... uh," she stuttered, avoiding the woman's eyes. "I was going to make hot chocolate for us."

Ms. Ashley must have told Quinn about me, because... I hadn't introduced myself. But she knew my name. Had she asked about

"And who exactly is watching the store?" the woman scolded.

"I... locked up early."

The lady then shifted her focus to me. "Go home. Quinn has to work." She looked back to Quinn, who was glaring at her by this point, and returned to her room.

I turned to Quinn, and she seemed to be quite frustrated.

She sighed. "I'm sorry. She's a bitch," she shook her head, and continued into the kitchen.

In Quinn's defence, her grandmother hadn't directly her to go back to work...

While Quinn put milk into a black kettle and set it on the stove, I took a seat at the bar. I watched her as she gently put two white tea cups on the table for us.


I looked at my phone long enough to see that the message was from Kurt, as always. I didn't want to be rude, so I ignored it. 

Quinn reached into a cabinet and pulled out a small white container, and carefully spooned out cocoa into the tea cups.

I usually just use the packets of cocoa, but that worked too.

The kitchen was the same dull color as the living room, and the two ran together seamlessly without walls to separate them.
Everything was decorated in black and white with splashes of grey. Quinn was the only source of color in these rooms- with her lightly red lips and sea-foam green dress that matched her eyes perfectly.

The kettle whistled, and Quinn quickly lifted it from the stove top and poured equal amounts of hot milk into both teacups.

From the same cabinet she'd retrieved the white cocoa jar, she took a different white jar from. She dipped a spoon into the new
mixture, dropped some into both of the cups, and stirred.

She handed me my cup, as she sipped from hers. 

"What, no marshmallows?" I joked. She just bit her lip and motioned for me to take a sip.

So I did, and holy shit it was the best hot chocolate I've ever had. I can't even describe how good it was.

My eyes widened and I licked my lips. "oh my god, this is stupid good."

Quinn was already wearing a huge grin. "I made the mixes myself."

Between the taste of the cocoa and the sight of Quinn, I was at a serious risk of sensory overload.

"I thought I made it clear that you were to go back to work," Quinn's face fell as we both turned to see her grandmother standing
there, yet again.

"And for you to go home," she continued. "I don't like to be disobeyed." She stared at both of us and left yet again. We heard her
bedroom door slam, this time.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "We'll just go downstairs."

She grabbed another small glass jar from the cabinet, put it in her dress pocket, and picked up her cup.

As we made our way back down the stairs, I was extra careful with my cup in my hand. I definitely did not want to spill a single drop of that cocoa, and these tea cups also looked pretty expensive...

I reclaimed my stool behind the counter, while Quinn was unlocking the door and-


I looked at my phone and then at Quinn, who was returning to her stool next to me. I mouthed the words "one second", and
answered the call.


He was so loud that I actually had to move the phone away from my ear a little. God, Kurt was the biggest drama queen.
"what? why? Is everything okay?"



Quinn looked confused, and... well, I was confused too.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I have to go see what he's on about," I said, returning my phone to my jacket pocket. "the cocoa was so good, and thank you for the ice."

I stood up and Quinn followed, and she joined me as I walked to the front door.

"Here, I want you to have this." She went to her pocket, and handed me the small glass mason jar that she'd taken from the cabinet a few minutes ago. "it's my special cocoa mixture."

I gladly took the jar, and slipped it into my bag.

"I'll see you later, Quinn." I said. I immediately regretted it, since we'd never actually introduced ourselves, and she was probably
now wondering how I knew her name. but on the other hand, she knew my name too. Either way, she didn't seemed phased by
what I'd said. 

"I'm sure you will," she smiled.

When I returned to the apartment, Blaine was gone and Kurt was in the kitchen preparing... oh god. 
macaroni and cheese. I knew that it could only mean one thing-

comfort food.

I instantly braced myself for bad news. 

"Wow, okay what happened to your face?" 

Kurt was always so nice and welcoming.

"That's a fantastic way to greet your best friend," I said, flopping down on the couch. "Now what was so important that I was
ordered to come back here for?"

"But what happened to your face?"

"long story."

"I have time."

"Just please tell me what you were freaking out about."

"Not until you tell me what happened to your face."

"I ran into a door."


"Yes, again."

"oh," Kurt said, resting on the couch beside me. "just making sure someone didn't clock you."


I was staring him down, waiting for an answer as to why I had been forced to leave Quinn and rush over. After a few seconds, Kurt's uncontrollable giggle fit told me that there was obviously not any bad news. That still didn't explain the mac and cheese, really...

next chapter



Latest Month

July 2012
Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by Michael Rose