Hola peeps! Okay, so I know that a bunch of you are probably waiting for an update of This Can't be Happening, and trust me, I'm trying. I really am. But I keep getting stuck whenever I sit down to write. I'm so so so so sorry that you guys have been waiting so long for it. I'm gonna try and get it up as soon as I possibly can.
Anyway, I'm currently in San Francisco. I saw two different oceans today! I'm so pumped about that :) well, I wrote this on the six hour plane ride (in between bashing my head against the side of the plane because I couldn't write my other story). You might be able to tell my thoughts on flying when reading this ;) This takes place during New York. Hope you guys like it!
God, Santana hated planes. She definitely wasn't afraid of flying, she just hated it. She hated the airports, the planes, the too-friendly flight attendants, the awful food, the way her ears popped whenever she swallowed, the way they seemed to just randomly drop. But most of all, she hated take offs. It felt like someone had just decided to take a seat on her chest while compressing her spine at the same time. She hated it with a burning, fiery passion. The fact that the entire hunk of metal could just drop out of the sky at any moment if something went wrong didn't exactly help either.
Brittany, however, loved planes. She got an adrenaline rush during take off. It felt like when she was dancing—everything around her just seemed to melt away. It was weird, but amazing at the same time.
They were sitting in first class, waiting for the plane to take off. Nationals was in a week, so they had a few days to explore New York once they got there. Brittany and Santana had the last two seats in the first class with no one behind them
Santana was freaking out. Brittany had agreed to take the window seat, leaving Santana with the isle—something she was incredibly grateful for. Her right hand was clenched around the edge of the armrest so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. She was bouncing her leg anxiously.
Brittany had noticed a while ago that Santana seemed really on edge. She placed her hand over her best friend's and squeezed lightly. "Calm down, San. The plane hasn't even taken off yet." She whispered into Santana's ear.
"I'm fine," Santana replied tensely. Brittany rolled her eyes and squeezed again. Santana always tried to make it seem like she was invincible. She wasn't.
"I know that you're afraid of-,"
"I am not afraid of flying."
"Okay, fine. I know how much you hate planes. You're not fine," It wasn't a question. "Here," She extended her hand for Santana to take. The brunette hesitated before prying her fingers from the armrest and placed her hand in Brittany's. Brittany intertwined her fingers with Santana's. "It's gonna be okay. We're gonna get to New York, and we're gonna have the most amazing time ever. We're gonna win Nationals and when we get home, we're gonna have the most awesome summer ever."
A smile found its way onto Santana's face. Brittany was always really good at making her feel better. "Yeah, you're right. I'm being stupid."
Brittany frowned at this, "No you're not. You're being you, and you aren't stupid."
The plane started moving. Immediately, Brittany felt Santana's hand tense in her own. She rubbed light circles around Santana's knuckles and cooed, "Relax. You're okay."
Closing her eyes, Santana tried to focus on the feel of Brittany's hand in her own. Breathe, Santana. A few seconds later, she felt the plane accelerate. Her grip on Brittany's hand tightened and she squeezed her eyes shut tighter. She could vaguely hear someone saying something to her from her left.
"Yeah, she's okay, Quinn. Just give her a couple of minutes," she heard Brittany say. As the nose of the plane rose, her breath caught in her throat. She could feel the pressure on her chest. It was awful. A small bubble of panic stated to swell in her chest. She couldn't breathe.
Brittany noticed Santana's breathing change. "It's okay, San. It's almost over." She hated seeing Santana so freaked out.
A couple minutes later, the plane leveled out and Santana's breathing went back to normal. She opened her eyes to find Brittany watching her, concern written all over her features. "You okay?"
Santana nodded. "Thanks for that. I really don't like take off." Brittany just smiled softly.
Brittany pulled her iPod from her backpack and held one of the ear buds out to Santana. The brunette accepted with a smile. She leaned back into the seat and closed her eyes. Brittany's fingers were still intertwined with hers when she fell asleep.
"San. San, wake up," Someone was shaking her. "C'mon San, we're getting ready to land."
"Hm," Santana lifted her head from Brittany's shoulder and squinted when the light hit her eyes. "Wasgoinon?"
Brittany laughed softly. "Sorry, I didn't catch that," Santana fake glared at Brittany and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. "C'mon, sleepy head. We're landing."
"How long was I asleep?" Santana asked as she sat up
"The whole time. You fell asleep right after take off. The mumbling started about an hour in." Brittany smirked.
Santana felt her cheeks get hot. "I-uh. What, um, what did I say?" she asked, embarrassed.
"Not telling," the blonde answered, a mischievous smile on her face. "It will forever be my secret. But I will tell you that you're the cutest person I've ever seen when you're asleep." If possible, Santana's face turned an even darker shade of red.
They felt the plane begin to descend. Unlike take off, Santana was perfectly calm. Brittany was right there next to her, so she had nothing to worry about.
Okay, so this is a lot shorter than I thought it was...whatever. It's a one-shot (unless you guys want more...) Hope you liked it! On tumblr, my url is hypernarwhal . tumblr . com. Follow me! I'm amusing and stupid! :D