After watching Ep.16 'Sexy', I felt like I had to write this. I know it's probably awful, but it was just something I had to do :)
Based on the song 'Someone Like You', by Adele (.com/watch?v=KY_tWcAXEQ8). I own neither the song, nor Glee.
I heard that you're settled down,
That you found a girl and you're married now,
I heard that your dreams came true,
Guess she gave you things I didn't give to you,
Old friend, why are you so shy?
Ain't like you to hold back or hide from the light.
"Get off me," Santana sobbed. She shoved Brittany's hands away – but doing so made her cry more. Pushing those delicate, perfect hands, those deceptively strong cheerleader arms, and that soft skin in a direction that was anywhere but towards herself felt entirely wrong. She craved Brittany with every infinitesimal part of her being, and it broke her heart to be apart from her.
But today was different. Today, Santana had put her heart on the line and reached out to the one person she was sure she would never get rejected by. Never in a million lifetimes could she have guessed Brittany would want to stay with Artie. That she was happier with Artie. That she preferred him.
"He's just a stupid boy!" she'd yelled. And Brittany had responded quietly and rationally. It was so different to the Brittany Santana had known from the first year of McKinley, and got to know properly from their many years in the Cheerios together. That Brittany was loud and vicarious and wonderful. This Brittany was almost diffident, and ashamed.
I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,
I had hoped you'd see my face,
And that you'd be reminded that for me it isn't over.
So Santana walked away. Down the corridor, filled with students she resented for being so happy and lined with lockers she hated for being so solid; and out of the front doors of the school. She ignored the looks she got. She just didn't care what people thought anymore. Let them see the mascara running rivulets down her cheeks. Let them see the trembling bottom lip, the blotchy cheeks, and the red eyes. It wasn't their problem. She was going to keep on walking and let them see her cry.
But then she heard a voice call out her name.
"Santana!"
The dark haired girl shuffled to a stop. She didn't want to turn around; she so didn't. Brittany wasn't allowed to see what a mess she was.
But she looked anyway. And there was the beautiful blonde angel, standing at the top of the steps, clutching her school bag nervously and looking so enticingly vulnerable and exquisite. Santana allowed herself to hope. She knew she shouldn't – but maybe letting Brittany see her like this, with her walls down and her broken heart on show, would make her see what a mistake she was making.
The blonde girl parted her perfectly shaped lips to say something. Santana's heart leapt. Brittany's mind was quite obviously a hurricane of emotion and mixed up thoughts. Her forehead was knotted together in the adorable way it always did when she was thinking about something difficult, like Spanish verbs or which way round left and right were.
In the end, she only said two words.
"I'm sorry."
Santana felt like screaming. Not out of anger; but because screaming was the only thing she could think of to do that would numb the terrible onslaught of pain that had risen inside her chest. But her voice wasn't working. A sob shook her body, and she covered her mouth with her hand to hide the pitiful shuddering breath that was emitting from it.
You know how the time flies,
Only yesterday was the time of our lives,
We were born and raised in a summer haze,
Bound by the surprise of our glory days.
Santana went home; home to the condo owned by the parents she never saw. She made a wicked cocktail of all the most expensive spirits she could find and drank until her throat felt raw. Then she called Sam and fucked him on her parents' bed. Then she yelled at him. Then she hit him. Then he left. Then she drank some more, and rang Puckerman. He said he was busy, so she drank again and cried. She couldn't think of anything else to do, so she rang Mr Schue.
She cried on his sweater vest for a while, and he listened and hugged her and told her it would all be okay. Then he ran her a bath, took her drink away, and left.
Santana sat fully clothed on the edge of the bath for a while, her feet immersed in the warm, soapy water. She thought back to the first time she and Brittany had kissed. Coach Sylvester had taken the cheer team out to the summer fair, because her new meds had made her slightly high. The team had had a wonderful day, going on all the rides and eating cotton candy. Come the evening, when the summer sun was setting and casting a golden glow across the park, she and Brittany were at the top of the Ferris wheel. She'd turned to the blonde cheerleader, who'd grinned in return. It was one of the first – and only – moments in Santana's life that she'd wanted to go on forever.
"You're really pretty," Brittany had said. "So are you," Santana had replied. And then they'd kissed because that was the only way they knew how to show affection.
Throughout the rest of the summer, they met up many times; in cornfields or under trees in the park or on the shores of lakes. They kissed in the sun and it was the most beautiful Santana had ever felt. This was a new feeling, being beautiful. Normally, boys told her she was hot or sexy, and she merely accepted this and used it to get what she wanted from them. Brittany made her feel like she was worth something; made her believe it. When they were together, they felt unlimited.
I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,
I had hoped you'd see my face,
And that you'd be reminded that for me it isn't over.
Santana couldn't stand it. She had to see Brittany. Even if turning up unannounced was one of her least favourite things to do – many an affair of her own had been discovered when her current boyfriend had walked in on her and her new man – but this was different. It was like Brittany was a magnet and she was nothing but an iron filing: helpless and inescapably drawn towards the other girl. Santana would cross universes to be with Brittany. It was an instinct, innate within her.
It was early evening now; and a light breeze was disrupting the stuffy Ohio air. It played gently with Santana's dark hair, and raised slight goose bumps on her bare arms. She wished she'd taken her jacket. She thought back to all the times Brittany had worn it home after cheer practice. She was glad she'd left it at home.
Brittany's house was like a second home to Santana. She couldn't remember the last time she'd knocked on the door; she usually just let herself in. This time, however, she tapped hesitantly on the door, her fist shaking a little.
It was Brittany who answered. She was laughing at something someone inside the house had been saying, but her face snapped immediately to a startled mask on the sight of Santana.
"Santana. Hi," she said nervously. "What... what are you doing here?"
"I can't give up on you that easily," Santana whispered, a sob trembling in her throat. "I'm not giving up. I love you."
Never mind, I'll find someone like you,
I wish nothing but the best for you, too,
Don't forget me, I beg,
I remember you said,
"Sometimes it lasts in love,
But sometimes it hurts instead,"
"Santana..." Brittany said, with something that sounded almost like pity in her voice. "Don't do this to yourself. I mean, yeah, I love you. I belong to you, remember? I'm yours forever. But... just not right now."
"But it hurts," Santana whimpered, fresh tears clouding her vision.
"I know. Love does that sometimes," Brittany said quietly. She reached out a hand and rested it on her friend's arm. Santana let it sit there, like a safety blanket. It felt nice. Warm. Like everything it shouldn't.
"I hate it. I wish we never... I wish we..." Santana could see the words in her head. But they wouldn't find their way to her mouth.
Nothing compares,
No worries or cares,
Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made,
Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?
If she'd known, how all this would end – would she have taken the proverbial leap? Was anything worth this kind of pain? It felt like someone had poured acid in her chest, and now it was burning holes in her heart; twisting and crippling everything she'd ever professed to love. It was worse than anything she'd ever experienced, and she'd had mono more times than Lauren had ever even looked at a plate of salad.
But looking at Brittany, and seeing how glorious she was, and wondering how it could be that something so flawless could exist, wiped all sense of regret from her mind.
Nothing was as amazing as they were. Nothing. Not one thing even came close. She felt no remorse for a second of time they spent together. If she went back, she'd do it all again without even thinking about it because it was that kind of love. It was the scream it from the rooftops kind, the prefect happy ending to the movie kind. The sing about it because that's the only thing that makes sense to do kind. It was so cliché.
So why did it have to end like this?
Never mind, I'll find someone like you,
I wish nothing but the best for you,
Don't forget me, I beg,
I remember you said,
"Sometimes it lasts in love,
But sometimes it hurts instead,"
"Brittany? Are you okay?" called a voice from inside. It was a boy's voice. Artie.
"I'm fine," said Brittany, trying but failing to keep a tremor out of her voice. The distraught look in her eyes broke Santana's heart all over again.
"Who is it?" asked Artie, his voice getting louder as he rolled himself down the hall. "Oh, hey Santana!"
"Hi," she murmured.
"Are you all right?" Artie looked up at her from under Brittany's elbow. Behind his thick glasses, there was a look of genuine concern in his eyes. "Your eyes are all red. Have you been crying? Was it Sam? Come inside, do you want a cup of tea or something?"
The whole thing was spoilt because Artie was so goddamned nice. If he was horrid, then Santana would insist on whisking Brittany away so she could save her. But Brittany already had her knight in shining armour. She didn't need her.
Wasn't that exactly what Santana wanted? Someone that could make all the anger she had go away, and make her feel special and loved?
And suddenly, she understood. Brittany had that with Artie. And that was okay, because as long as Brittany was happy, then everything was fine. She'd been selfish far too long.
"No, that's okay. I was just about to leave," she said, smiling weakly at him. She looked up at Brittany, and into those startlingly clear blue eyes. "Be happy," she said.
Brittany nodded.
"Don't forget me," she said. She was shocked at how strong her voice sounded. "Please."
Brittany wanted to speak, but couldn't trust herself not to cry. Instead, she merely nodded.
Santana closed her eyes. She turned around. Then she walked away.
Never mind, I'll find someone like you,
I wish nothing but the best for you, too,
Don't forget me, I beg,
I remember you said,
"Sometimes it lasts in love,
But sometimes it hurts instead,"
Sometimes it lasts in love,
But sometimes it hurts instead.