*Flashback*
"I felt an attraction."
Really, because I just felt my heart break into a million tiny little shards, splintering and stabbing into every part of my insides.
"And you'll feel it too."
I doubt it; I can't really feel anything right now, though the splinters are digging deeper, and that hurts pretty bad.
"I just think," don't think, dear god, don't think, "that we both have needs that we need to act on as humans."
I don't need to act, Santana! What I feel isn't acting!
"I'll always love you, Brittany. Forever and always, okay?"
Don't love me forever, love me right now!
Santana!
*End Flashback*
Tears poured from my eyes uncontrollably. My pillow case, and most likely my pillow, was soaked through. Sobs racked my body, making it ache like Cheerios had never been able to do before. Mom had knocked on my door earlier to tell me that Santana was over and wanted to talk before she left for Louisville, but I couldn't push an answer past the huge rock in my throat. I suppose the sobbing didn't help either, though.
Tina came over earlier and I could just barely talk to her, though I didn't get far before the memory of Santana was too much. My phone had been ringing almost constantly for the past two hours. Sam had apparently been over to talk to me about ten minutes ago, but I think my mom got the hint that I didn't want to talk to anyone and dent him away. Even Lord Tubbington decided to give me space after a few nose touches.
My phone started ringing again, for the millionth time today, and I reached for it. Answering it blindly, I sniffled and shoved a 'hello' through my constricted throat.
"BrittBritt," Santana's voice came over the phone, hesitant and scared. "I just wanted to see if you were okay, baby." Even more tears fell out of my eyes as I listened to her voice. It was so… sad and heart broken and just… not Santana.
I opened my mouth to say something, but only a sob escaped. Slamming a hand to my mouth, I felt my whole body convulse over and over. Tear drop after tear drop cascaded from my eyelids as I suddenly heard Santana crying as well.
"Baby," a few cracking, heart wrenching sobs came over the line, "Brittany, I am so, so, so sorry. Oh, my God, Brittany, you don't know how sorry I am, love."
I tried swallowing the lump in my throat a few times before I was finally able to speak again. "If you would regret something this bad, you shouldn't have done it, Santana." I took a few deep breaths before continuing, even though Santana's heart breaking, gut wrenching cries made it hard not to burst into tears all over again. "It hurts, Santana!" I shouted, realization hitting me hard. It hurt so bad, my body's nerves had to shut down and go all numb and dead. And I wanted nothing else but to be able to cry in Santana's arms; for her to will away all the life-ending pain. "It hurts, and I want you to fix it, but at the same time," moisture trickled down my cheeks and fell onto my pillow, which I still hadn't flipped over. "At the same time, I hate you for making my feel like this!"
The line was silent as I awaited Santana's response. I knew that this was as hard for her as it was for me. "I-I," she whimpered after a few moments. "I hate myself so much, Brittany, so much. I am so, so, so fucking sorry. I am so stupid and sorry, Britt, I'm so stu—"
"No you're not, Santana. You are not stupid." I half-shout. I hare it—hate it—when anyone—anyone—calls themselves or anyone else stupid. "If anything—"
"No," she interrupted, just like I did to her. "Stop, just stop, Brittany, I-I," our tears had momentarily stopped in our competition for the last word. "I'm just… I feel like I've ruined everything! I feel so bad and horrible and I'm so, so, so sorry!" Sobs came back over the line yet again, and I couldn't help but cry along with her. My love, my one and only love I've ever had, was hurting—so, so much—and I couldn't do anything. I couldn't help her at all.
I didn't want to say anything, but I knew I had to. "Santana," I asked quietly. I wasn't sure if she heard me at first, but then her hiccups quieted a tad bit and I continued. "Am I not good enough for you? Is that why you're afraid you'll cheat? Am I not good enough?" My voice sounded thick, and I knew that Santana's would be too.
"No, Britt, God no," Santana just cried harder and harder. "No, no, no, no, no," and that was all she muttered for minutes on end. It didn't seem like she ever took a breath. All I heard from the phone was Santana's softly muttered 'no's' and a sob every once in a while.
Then, the line went silent. At first, I was afraid that she had hung up to wallow in her misery alone, but then I hear a sharp wail, a cry that would make a banshee turn green with jealousy. The wail the turned to sharp sobs and cries and sobs soon escaped from my mouth.
Santana and I weren't just crying anymore; we were breaking apart. Piece by piece, little chunks of ourselves were falling off and dropping into a pool of nothing, leaving nothing but a remnant of who we once were.
Hours seemingly passed before we stopped crying; we couldn't anymore. Our throats were too raw, our mouths too dry. Hiccups and sniffles were all that I heard for some time afterward.
"Santana," I whispered, my throat still burning from tears. She didn't respond though, at all. "Santana," I said a bit louder.
"Yeah," she whispered back, and I almost didn't think it was her at first. Her voice was so soft, so hurt and wounded.
"It doesn't matter if this is a break up, unofficial or not." I took a deep breath before continuing. "I… I will always love you—only you. I won't touch anyone else, or love anyone else, or kiss or hug anyone else; only you." I waited a few seconds—in silence—before I said anything else. "No one will ever make me feel the way you do, whether what I feel is good or bad. No one's kisses will make my spine tingle the way yours do. No one's hugs will make me feel as safe, secured and loved like yours do."
"Brittany…" Santana whispered, emotion pouring out of every syllable.
"Santana…" I whispered back. "I will always love you, no matter what."
And that night, we wasted all of our minutes on our phones listening to each other breathe because no matter what, we would always be with one another, one way or another.