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"You're pretty too, you know," Quinn says suddenly. It's out of nowhere and it breaks the almost silence of the hallway. Music is still pouring out from the gym, and it sounds like it's being played over the loudspeakers instead of being played live. It makes sense. No one's in the mood to perform after what happened with Kurt.
Rachel blinks. She turns around. She's just a little bit ahead of Quinn. Her mouth is open slightly, and her eyes are surprised. "...What?"
"I said you're pretty too," she repeats. Her cheeks feel hot, and she can't blame it on the stage lights. The hallway is pretty dark. Still, in the dim light of the hall, the top of her dress still shines and her silver earrings twinkle. A traitorous part of her mind can't help but comment that she would practically glow with a crown sat on her dyed blonde hair; she tells that part of her mind to shut up.
"You said that I was the prettiest girl you ever met," she continues. "I think you're also pretty. Not in the traditional sense, like me or Brittany–"
"Gee, thanks," Rachel interrupts, quiet and bitter. She looks down at herself. Her dress does not have any sparkle to it now.
"–But I know what Finn saw in you." She tilts her head and smiles softly. It's a sad and tight smile. Rachel looks up at her again. Her full lips are in a pout, and her eyes are sad, silently questioning if Quinn really means that.
She does. She's thought about it a lot. A lot of sophomore year– more than Quinn would care to admit– was spent staring at Rachel Berry, studying her. She's noticed all of her little imperfections and every detail of her face. Her face is square and has an undeniably masculine quality to it, but has soft edges that bring a young and girlish quality to it. Her lips were large, not as big as Sam's, but still full. It was natural, as far as Quinn could tell, and that made her both incredibly jealous and incredibly impressed. Her cheek bones were so pronounced, high and sharp, giving a mature edge to an otherwise childish appearance. When she smiled, her entire face smiled. Her hair looked luscious and well taken care of, and her new bangs suited her face perfectly, especially now that the rest of her hair was pulled into a curled ponytail.
Her personality was something she had to grow to tolerate, which soon evolved into a genuine appreciation for her. It was easy to be annoyed by her. She was overpowering and demanding. All eyes needed to be on her at all times. Quinn understands that. She always has. She has a similar need; if she isn't admired, if she isn't being looked at, if she isn't perfect, she feels as if she has nothing. Rachel needs her stardom like Quinn needs to be on top of the pyramid. It's a silent understanding, but it's there nonetheless. She supposes that's why she hated her so much, at least partially– she saw too much of herself in her.
Quinn has a favorite feature of Rachel's, even if she would never say it. It's, ironically, what seems to be Rachel's least favorite feature. Her nose. Another aspect of her that's far too similar to Quinn, but this is something she'd rather forget– when she was Lucy, her nose was a similar shape. Of course, that changed when she decided she'd rather be loved than laughed at and transformed into the untouchable head bitch that is Quinn Fabray.
She watched Rachel come close to being her own Quinn Fabray a few weeks ago when she pondered a nose job. She influenced her decision and played into that need to be normal, to fit in, to be pretty, but she knew Rachel was pretty as she was. It took her a whole school year to figure that out, but now she could admit in her own head that Rachel was pretty.
And, apparently, she could say it out loud, too. She didn't really process what she said when she did. She didn't mean to, either. It simply came out. She thought it so intensely for so long and her walls had been smashed through with a wrecking ball. There was nothing to hold the thought back.
“...Thank you,” Rachel says quietly. The pout is gone. She is smiling. Her teeth, so white and perfect despite what Doctor Howell said, peak out between her lips. Quinn feels her own smile grow. “That means a lot coming from you.”
There is a pause, then Rachel steps to be on the same level as Quinn. Their eyes meet. Quinn loves how Rachel's dark eyes twinkle when she's passionate. Her cheeks, already pink from blush, feel hotter and she hopes it can't be seen in the darkness of the hallway. She feels soft skin on her wrist, right below her corsage. Rachel is grabbing her hand, so sweetly, so gently. Quinn looks down at it. This wouldn't have happened last year– Hell, even earlier this year. It astounds her.
“I never thought a girl as- as gorgeous as you are, Quinn, would ever call me pretty,” Rachel continues. Her eyes are intense, but they crinkle when she smiles. Quinn finds it beautiful. When she's performing and posing, her smile never quite reaches her eyes; the same thing happens to Quinn. It's nice to see her so genuine.
“I never thought it would feel this nice,” Rachel murmurs. Quinn can't help but laugh. She understands. When she got the smallest attention from one of the popular, beautiful girls she idolized in middle school, she was addicted. The journey from Lucy to Quinn was easy after that. Still, she hoped Rachel wouldn't change herself so much– not after she just got used to her overbearing personality.
“You should get told more often,” Quinn replies. “Didn't Finn tell you?”
Rachel looks away. “I mean, yeah, he did, but…”
“But it feels better coming from someone like me?”
Rachel's lips twitch. She opens her mouth and sucks in a breath like she's going to say something, but stops herself. “It might be nice getting told that by Santana… and, less so, Brittany, but…” She looks back at Quinn. Her mouth is in a lopsided smile. Quinn knows she is just staring at her. She can't do much else, not when so many feelings are swirling inside of her– and because of Rachel Berry, of all people. “It mainly feels better coming from you. Specifically.”
Quinn feels her heart skip a beat. She doesn't know why, but hearing that made another wave of heat shoot to her cheeks. She smiles. It's forced, but not fake. “It's… nice to hear you think that about me, too.” Because I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, she wants to add, but doesn't.
“It's funny,” Rachel says. “We fought so much last year over Finn, but here we are, complimenting each other back and forth, like that's a thing we always do.”
A smile, soft and bittersweet, tugs at Quinn's mouth. “It could be,” she replies. The thought makes her chest flutter and fill with excitement she'd not felt since joining the Cheerios! for the first time and meeting Santana and Brittany. She can't imagine why the idea of being friends with Rachel Berry, the girl she was fighting with not even two months ago, makes her happier than she'd been in a while. Like she said, it's funny, and Quinn snorts out a breathy laugh that, to Rachel, said ‘my offer wasn't serious unless you want it to be.’
Rachel grins. She squeezes her hand, and another wave of pure joy runs through Quinn. “I'd love for it to,” she responds. “It's exhausting to fight, y'know. We both have other enemies to worry about– like those other show choirs, for example. We should save our energy for that.” Her voice was matter-of-fact, so serious that it made Quinn softly laugh again and look away.
When she looks back, Rachel is looking at her with a small smile still on her face. Quinn finds herself staring at her mouth. She wonders how it feels, not on Rachel, but on Finn, or Puck, or Jesse. She wonders how soft they are when they kiss; she knows it must be rather nice, since she knows she carries around at least one strawberry flavored chapstick with her most of the time. Her eyes move up to her nose, her favorite feature, a nose that once belonged to Lucy but looks so beautiful on Rachel. She wonders how it feels when she kisses, pressed up against her partner's own, usually much flatter, nose or their cheeks, which would surely be hot because of the kiss. She thinks that it would probably feel perfect against her nose, that they would slot together like it they were made to– just like how their hands did at this moment.
She looks up at Rachel's eyes and the embarrassment of what she just thought hits her like a truck. What was she doing, daydreaming about kissing someone like her, about kissing a girl at all? Gently, she pulled away from Rachel's soft hands, smoothing out her dress instead. Her head hung to watch the fabric ripple, purposefully blocking out the expression on Rachel's face that must be similar to a kicked puppy's. Now that they were friends (or were going to be in the future), she didn't find pleasure in the hurt looks she gave.
Uncomfortably, Quinn clears her throat. “We should go back in the gym, shouldn't we?” she says. “I bet… Kurt is ready to accept his title. I want to be here for him, and I'm sure you do, too. But… I had a nice time talking to you, Rachel. Thank you. I'll talk to you later.” She gave her a tight smile, then walked into the gym without waiting for a response. She didn't want to look at her anymore, not after she stared at her for what must've been a few minutes straight while thinking about what kissing her would be like. She hears the door close behind her, then open for Rachel, then close again. They do not speak for the rest of the night. Quinn and Rachel both wish they would have.