Lea, we are here for you…
What on earth makes any of you think this is Lea? First of all, he has an American flag draped over his coffin, which he wouldn’t be in yet seeing as they haven’t done the autopsy yet. HE’S NOT EVEN AMERICAN.
"Rachel," Quinn began, closing the bedroom door. “I need you to promise me something."
"Promise me you will never think or say that you don’t deserve to be with me ever again."
"Where is this coming from, Quinn?"
"In the car. You said you were just Berry and you didn’t deserve to be with me. You do, and I don’t want you to ever feel that way."
"Okay you don’t feel that way or okay shut up?"
"If you tell me that I’m crazy for thinking I don’t deserve you, I will believe you. I trust you."
"You’re not crazy. It’s just…"
"What?" Rachel grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze.
"After you said that, I started thinking about that first night I came over here. You remember that?"
"And I was convinced you should hate me or dislike me. But you didn’t. You gave me a second chance and every day for the last two months I’ve thanked God that you did that because I wound up with someone who not only became my best friend, but someone who I can’t even seem to get enough of. And that you would ever, ever think you didn’t-" Rachel cut her off with her lips, hoping to convey everything she felt with that kiss. She guessed she succeeded, as Quinn kissed back with equal fervor, intensity, and passion.
Threading her hands in Quinn’s hair, she backed them both toward the bed, which they gracefully fell upon. In that moment, Rachel felt something she hadn’t felt before: need.