Cold

~o0o~

She's always cold.

To clarify, not in a distant, harsh way. She's really the opposite of that. Literally, she's cold. She grabs his hand once, caught up in the middle of a passionate rant, and the only thing he can think is man, her hand is so cold. Why would a person as energetic as Rachel Berry be cold?

Then he goes to think about how she's holding his hand, and then he can't help but link that to something he's not supposed to, and then he's forcing that thought out of his mind, nope, nope, we're not going there, not again.

Then he looks up again and she's done talking, she's standing there looking up at him expectantly and he has no idea what she just said.

"Well?" she demands.

He blinks. "W-what?"

She exhales a dramatic sigh. "You can't honestly think that Tina is better suited for that solo than I am!"

And those defiant brown eyes make him temporarily forget about cold hands and he finds himself drawn back into another one of her unnecessary arguments. And he realizes that he kind of likes them, and he doesn't know why.

~o0o~

It's his prep period and he's sitting at his desk grading papers when he hears the familiar splash of a slushie outside the door. Followed by a round of laughter and a very distinct squeal that he knows can only be her. Instantly, he's fired up. He takes two steps into the hall and the culprits disperse.

"Hey! That's a detention!" he shouts, as the bell rings and the jocks disappear around a corner.

She's standing beside him, drenched in the red ice and shivering. Also sniffling, about to cry, which makes him even madder. Will's never been biased with grading in his Spanish 2 class, but in this moment he looks forward to seeing their faces after he flunks them.

He motions toward his room with a sad smile. "C'mon. I'll get you some paper towels."

She nods stiffly and follows him. He's barely across the threshold when he hears her melodic voice finally break down.

"Everybody hates me!" she cries, muffled with her hands covering her face. He stops and turns around to touch her wet slushie-covered shoulder.

"Rach," he says softly, "stop. Look at me."

She drops her hands and looks up at him. Her breath is shaky as she tries to stop crying; it kills him to see her like this. He hesitates, then slowly brings his hand to her cheek. With his thumb, he gently wipes a tear from the corner of her eye, and he feels how cold her skin is. He wonders if it's from the slushie or if it was already like that. She's always cold, he's been noticing.

She sniffles again and shoots him a weak smile. He knows that he's crossing a line, but it just feels...right, this odd embrace.

"I'm sorry that things are bad for you right now," he says. "It's gonna get better. I promise."

He breaks away reluctantly and hands her the roll of paper towels. She begins scrubbing at her stained sweater, which was victim to the majority of the beverage.

"More likely than not, those boys are going to be stuck here in Lima for the rest of their lives," he continues. "They'll hear about you being a big star and they're gonna regret this, I know."

She tries to smile again. "I know."

Before he knows what's happening, she gingerly wraps her arms around his middle and hugs him. This takes him by surprise, he freezes.