Not About Angels
A/N: THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A ONE SHOT, BUT IF ANY OF YOU ARE INTERESTED, I COULD START A STORY:) PLEASE READ AND REVIEW(:
They heard the slowly ticking sound of the clock as minutes flew by. A single light flickered over the bed smack centre in the room. The unconscious figure which lay silently under the covers barely clanged on for life, a drip directly connected to the veins in their arm. Hands folded neatly over their stomach, they were soon joined by another pair from a weeping person sitting in the chair next to them. They both knew that they would not have a happy ending, with one of them having cancer, but it still came as a shock for them
"Don't go, I'm not ready for you to leave me yet."
—
The dimly lit yet stylish café was accompanied by the background music of sweet jazz.
"It's a nice place, isn't it?" A young, fair-complexion woman spoke, "Tell me more about yourself, please Santana."
"Well, I work at the store near my home, which happens to be a little cottage, My room isn't that big, and it has a cushion just like this." Lifting it to her chest and clutching it close, the girl offered a smile. "You?"
"I live in the building nearby. It's on the third storey, and it isn't that big. I work at the McDonalds just next door-" she was interrupted by a giggle from the other girl- "And I've worked there ever since I was 16."
"That sounds fun. I've always wanted to work somewhere popular. I barely have any human interaction working in the deadbeat store."
"Why don't you come work with me?I I'm sure it would be fun to have someone like you working next to me."
"And what is 'someone like you' supposed to mean?" She smiled playfully.
"Sweet, kind, fun to talk to. Just an amazing person, in general."
She laughed, placing her hands over each other. "Good answer."
—
The only sound that could be heard was the creaking of the chair. The slow, rocking sound that entered the ears of the single conscious person in the room was soft compared to that of their racing heart. Struggling for breath, choking on tears, she placed her hands around that of the still-body in the bed. Squeezing slightly, hoping for a response, it was unanswered, leaving them to wonder whether or not they were still alive.
Glancing up at the monitor, they were glad to see that the line hadn't completely gone flat- it was dotted with ups and downs here and there, but still managed to be quite consistent.
—
The air around them seemed to stand still as they placed their arms around each other, dancing around the room with a sort of elegance, caught in the heat of the moment. Their hands glided around the other, moving in synchronisation as they glided around each others body.
The Latina looked up at the blonde as she was pinned to the bed, both chuckling as their clothes were tugged off. They arched their backs, rolling around as they laughed, feeling the cool hit their bodies as they stripped down to their undergarments. Santana felt around and clutched Brittany close as they both smiled.
"I love you." Brittany said, pulling them both under the covers, hearing their chuckles reduced to moans as the two vanished from sight under the white sheets.
—
"Do you hear me? Please, squeeze my hand. Please, please. I'm begging you. Please." She glided her hand over the body, feeling a slight shiver, causing her to smile at the body. "Please, try to say something, anything." The creaking sound stopped and time seemed to pause as the two joined hands.
—
"So, how was the checkup?" Brittany smiled at Santana, who entered through the front door, bag draped over her shoulder.
"Yeah, yeah." Santana placed her bag down on the chair, stepping around to then place herself down with the bag. "How was your day?"
Brittany tilted her head to the side slightly. "You sure? You don't seem so fine." The blonde put the cup in her hand down on the table separating the two, reaching her hand over to comfort the other.
"It's just-" Santana choked on her words, feeling a couple of tears roll down her face. "I don't want to talk about it." Brittany stood up to hug Santana, wrapping her arms around the tear-covered girl.
"It's ok, you don't need to tell me, it's fine."
—
"D-do you remember what you told me? The day you found out you had cancer? You started crying, and we went to get you your favourite ice cream? An-" Unable to finish her sentence, she held her head in her hands, watching as the heart monitor continued to reach closer to a flat line.
—
"What flavour?"
"Strawberry. You should know by now!" Brittany laid between laughs, watching as they scooped the ice cream into a cone for her and Santana to share. Walking back to the metal table, she sat next to the Latina, who had been twiddling her fingers for a long amount of time.
"Come on, eat your ice-cream." Brittany nudged it towards Santana, who looked up just to smile at her.
"I'm sorry, I'm not in the mood to eat. You can eat without me."
"But Santana, it's not as fun when just I do it!" Brittany, once again, inched it towards her, feeling Santana place one of her hands around the cone.
"Thank you for this, Britt. I really needed it."
"Anything I can do to help 'Tana."
—
A nurse walked into the room, adjusting the drip and the wires connected to the still body.
"Sorry, just need to adjust a couple of these wires. Her heart is beating abnormally slow. She's on the verge of de-"
Seeing the other girl was starting to cry, the nurse paused. "I'm so sorry. Are you going to spend the night? Do you need a blanket?"
"I just need some time alone with her, if thats okay."
"Of course, of course." The nurse left Brittany and Santana in the room, walking out and shutting the door behind her with a slam.
—
"Do you hear that? The ice-cream parlour is playing the same song as the last time we were here."
"Not now, Santana." Brittany looked down at her lap, twiddling her thumbs as Santana had earlier. "I-I'm sorry for being in such a bad mood. It's just hard to hear that- that after I had lived so innocently, and I've been so nice to everyone and-and" Brittany broke down, leaning over to Santana, who embraced her sweetly.
"Britt, I know what you're going through."
"Santana, please don't. Yours was just a simple scare. My cancer is going to kill me. I don't want to-to have to wake up and know I'm going to die soon. That my time is limited."
"Hush, and rest, just… rest."
—
Santana lay down next to Brittany, feeling the blonde hair splayed across the pillow tickle her face.
"Britt, I love you. I'm not sure if you can hear me, but I just want the last words that- that I say to you, to be I love you." Santana could feel her heart start to race as words fluttered through the room.
"I love you too."
—
"Brittany? Brittany, oh my god, you're so pale." Brittany lay on the couch, head buried as she cried.
"Brittany, look listen to me, everything is going to be fine, completely fine. Please just listen to my voice." Brittany whimpered, barely breathing.
"Look, I'm going to call the hospital, and they'll be here to get you, just please keep breathing."
—
Brittany smiled at Santana, hoping to see the Latina smile back, yet received no return. "'Tana? Why are you crying?"
Santana continued crying, bawling as Brittany reached out to comfort her. "Calm down, 'Tan, I'm right here."
The olive-skinned woman looked over at Brittany, tears still pouring. Brittany walked over to Santana, looking down, shocked to see her body next to Santana, and the heart monitor made a beeping sound.
"I-I'm dead?" Brittany caressed one hand against Santana's face. "I'm dead."
