You sit at the little bench at the bus stop, impatiently waiting for your bus to arrive. There are annoying little kids around you, screaming and throwing snowballs at each other, occasionally they "accidentally" hit you, in which case they learn a few new vocabulary words. You swear they're doing this on purpose. It's already bad enough that Puck crashed your car trying to impress Quinn, but now you have to take the bus to work and sit through the freezing cold weather with kids that seemed to be out to get you.
Right now, all you want to do is go to sleep.
Sleep. The word alone makes you smile contently. Since you've become an English teacher, you've had very little time for this.
You're pulled out of your thoughts by a soft tap on your shoulder. You turn your head the other way and snuggle a little deeper into your scarf and your coat, not wanting to give these little fuckers the satisfaction of attention.
"Santana?" A soft, familiar voice whispers unsurely. You know that voice. You know that voice by heart. You whip your head around and stare wide eyed at the figure of your past as she looks down at you with her blue, sparkling eyes. Her face morphs into a sweet smile under her fuzzy, blue hat as she recognizes you.
"B-Brittany?" You ask, your teeth chattering. (You don't think your stuttering because of the cold, though."
"Santana!" She squeals as she launches herself into your arms. You tense at first, but you slowly melt into her warmth.
She slowly pulls away and sits down at the spot next to you, smiling largely as if she had found a unicorn.
"Hey, Brittany." You greet awkwardly as you stuff your hands back into your black coat's warm pockets.
"I haven't seen you in so long. How have you been?" She asks sweetly.
"It's been pretty good." You answer vaguely.
"What have you been doing?" She replies more specifically.
"I've been teaching English to high school kids." You brush off, "What have you been doing?" She seems to notice your reluctance to tell her personal information.
"I've been teaching dance to the kids at Chang's. They're all really sweet and adorable." She tells you, and you immediately know that none of the little fuckers behind you are in it. You smile though, you're glad Brittany could have a job that included dance.
"That's awesome, Brittany." You say honestly, but before she's able to ask you anymore questions, the bus pulls up with a screech. You look over to Brittany and give her a small wave as you walk up the steps to the bus. You're more than surprised though, when she followed you into the bus.
You send her a questioning look and she just nods. You slide into your usual seat at the very back, away from everyone else (even though nobody actually rides the bus in the mornings).
"Is it okay if I sit here with you?" She asks you, shifting from foot to foot at the edge of the seat.
"Yeah, sure." You shrug. She sends you a smile as she sits down.
You take a moment to recount your history with Brittany. It's been seven years since you've seen her. Seven years of avoiding her and trying to avoid any type of emotion. Seven years of depression.
You two had dated for a few years in high school. Not only had you dated, but you were also best friends. The two of you had been inseparable. You loved each other in every way shape and form. You were each others' first everything. First friend, first kiss, first girlfriend, first time, you name it.
Except one evening it all just collapsed on you. The reality of hopes and dreams came smashing down on you, and got you two into a very heated argument. It was a terrible night for the both of you. You both left the argument in tears and never saw each other again.
It felt like a part of you was ripped out.
A snap in front of your face brought you out of your day dream as you turned back to Brittany. "Are you okay?" She asks gently. It's obvious now that neither one of you will mention the fight.
"Yeah, fine." You answer in a small voice. She doesn't seem to believe you, but she lets go of the subject anyways.
"Is this your stop?" She asks and you look out the window to find that you are, in fact, at the high school.
"Yeah. I'll see you later, I guess." She smiles largely at you as you walk away, the prospect of seeing each other again tingling through your body. You don't want to feel this way, but you can't help it. She just has that effect on you.
The next day, you sit at the bus stop again, a pile of papers sitting on your lap and a red pen in hand. You skim over the essay at the top and write a B for lack of good grammar, and you put it back to the bottom of the pile before you grab another.
You get through about fifteen papers before a soft voice interrupts, "Hi, Santana." You know it's Brittany right away, but you look up just in case.
She's wearing a puffy, light blue coat and a purple Eskimo hat that made her eyes pop.
"Hey, Brittany." You greet before going back down to the paper you're currently grading. You can hear a soft thud as she sits down next to you, and she leans over your shoulder to get a look at what you're doing.
"Grading papers?" She asks as her eyes skim over the sheet.
"Yeah, it's exhausting." You answer as you mark a large C and underline three of the YOLO's that had been written throughout the paper.
"Can I help?" She doesn't give you any time to answer because she's already stolen half of the papers from you stack and has a green pen in hand. You're not quite sure where the pen came from.
"I can't really say no now, can I?" You're talking more to yourself than to her as your eyes skim over the next paper. "I'm grading them based off of grammar and if the plotlines make sense. They automatically get a C for any 'swag's' or YOLO's." You tell her as you mark another C.
She hums in acknowledgement and the two of you are plunged into a comfortable silence. You continue to grade papers as you await the buses arrival because, seriously, why is it always late?
"I thought you went to LA after we… You know." You break the silence awkwardly and she nods lightly.
"I did, but I was offered a job at Mike's dance studio." She shrugs, "And don't you have a car?"
"Puck crashed it." You huff and you can hear her giggle which still sends the butterflies in your tummy in a frenzy.
"You still talk to Puck?" She asks with a smile.
"Yeah, it's difficult to get rid of him." You shrug. "Do you keep touch with anyone else from McKinley?"
"I talk to Mike and Tina all the time. I kind of have to, I mean, they're my bosses, so…" She trails off and you let out a chuckle. "How about you? Anyone else besides Puck?"
"Sometimes I get a call from Quinn. She's teaching English at Yale right now and it makes me want to punch her in the face." You hear Brittany's laughter besides you, "I also have lunch with Kurt and Mercedes once a week."
"That's cool…" She seems to hesitate on her next question. "How's your love life?"
You take a moment to look up from your papers to see her already looking at you. You immediately go back to the papers. "Single. Have been ever since… Us. How about you?"
"I dated Sam for awhile after, but it just didn't work out. Other than that, I haven't dated anyone." She shrugged and you can see out of the corner of your eye that she looks back down to her papers.
"That's cool." You say awkwardly.
The awkward atmosphere was disrupted as the bus pulled up next to them. Brittany hands you the papers back as the two of you stand up. You even out the stack before following behind Brittany as she enters the bus. You follow Brittany to the back of the bus, smiling at her as she scooted to the edge of the seat and patted the spot next to her.
"Do you need any more help grading papers?"Brittany asks sweetly once you've sat down.
"No, I have a week until grades are due, so I have time." You tell her with a shrug.
"Okay…" You could see Brittany searching every corner of her brain for something to say, whether it be to make you laugh or just to make a conversation. "Nombre means name in Spanish, but it also means number in French." Brittany blurts out. You raise an eyebrow.
"Is there a reason you're telling me this?" You ask suspiciously.
"If I asked you what your nombre is, would I be trying to make light conversation with you in Spanish, or hitting on you in French?" She asks, but the look on her face tells you that she's completely serious about this question.
You had to put a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter, but that doesn't stop you from smiling largely, putting your dimples on full display. Brittany gives you a confused face at first, but a smile gradually makes its way onto her face.
"I missed you." Brittany blurts out, but immediately slaps a hand over her mouth once it's out. You give her a soft smile as you raise a hand to her wrist and remove her hand gently.
"I missed you too, Britt-Britt." You tell her and she smiles a large grin at the return of the old nickname that you didn't even realize had slipped out of your mouth. You suppose it just seemed like a natural kind of thing.
Before you can stop it from happening, you're hugging her. You don't know when the last time you hugged somebody was, but you're sure it was years ago. You've missed Brittany and her hugs more than you can fathom.
She wraps her arms around your neck in a non-murderous way, and you stay like that for Holly Holliday knows how long. You're only brought out of your hug as the bus jolts to a stop in front of the high school.
You stand up and walk down the aisle, murmuring a small 'Bye' as you leave. You look behind your shoulder at Brittany and her eyes flicker up to you eyes. That's all the proof you need to know that she was staring at your ass.
You didn't get much sleep last night, only an hour or so. It's completely unacceptable to you, not because of the fact that you didn't get much sleep and you'll be all sleepy when you work, but because you love sleep. You love sleep, and you think it's a terrible thing to be deprived of something you love. A terrible, horrible thing that no person should ever undergo, and—
I have a feeling we're not talking about sleep anymore.
The only thing keeping you awake is the freezing cold that's threatening you with frostbite.
"Hey!" A chipper voice greets from next to you as you hear a small thud as the voice-although we all know who it is- sits next to you.
"Hmm." You hum in acknowledgement as you try to mentally wake yourself up.
"Are you alright?" She asks and raises a hand to your forehead, causing you to look at her for the first time this morning.
She's stunning-as usual.
"If anything, you feel freezing cold, so you don't have a fever." She observes. To be honest, the area that she's touching feels pretty hot right now.
(You're pretty sure it's not because of some type of illness)
"I'm fine, Britt. I just didn't get much sleep last night." You shrug (although I couldn't call it a shrug, more life a shoulder twitch).
The concerned look on her face doesn't leave. "Wat was so important that you stayed up all night to work on?" She asks.
You don't answer at first; you don't really want to answer. "Stuff."
"Santana." She gives you one of those looks that tell you to tell her the full story.
"I was… Catching up on…" You look away as a jumble of incoherent mumblings leave your mouth.
"Santana." That look again.
"I was catching up on… Honey BooBoo." You admit shyly. You look up back up at her, and she's just staring at you with an unreadable expression before she bursts out in laughter. That angelic laughter…
"Stop!" You swat her arm a few times, but she continues to laugh. "It's addicting, okay!" You defend, but with no avail. She just continues to laugh.
The laughter dies down once the bus arrives, and you both boarded on like you had done twice before, moving to the back and sitting together without hesitation.
You sit in silence for a minute, and you can feel your eyes drooping. Your eyes finally close and you don't process anything other than the fact that you're happily asleep.
When you wake up, it's to a soft tapping on your temple and somebody whispering that your stop's almost here. Your eyes flutter open and you freak out for a moment, thinking that you fell asleep on some strangers' shoulder.
Brittany.
It's Brittany's shoulder and you've never felt so relieved in your life. You snuggle your face into the crook of her neck and mumble that you don't want to go to school today. You feel the bus slow to a stop, but you don't make any move to get up.
"Well, doesn't that sound familiar?" Brittany giggles in reference to the old high school days. A wave of bittersweet memories wash over you, and you're suddenly wide awake. You take a glance outside to see that you're just outside of the high school.
"Bye Britt." You sigh as you reluctantly stand. She returns the farewell as you exit the bus.
Now you're sitting alone in the backseat of this bus, as lonely as ever. You're staring out of the window with a sad look on your face.
Brittany isn't here today.
Here you are, forced to sit through an already terrible bus ride, but enduring the terrible bus ride without Brittany just feels like pure torture. You feel a pang when you realize just how dependant you already are of her. And it's only been three fucking days. That alone sends you in a wave of panic. You've spent so long working on being completely independent and Brittany just comes along and destroys all of this progress with her perfect smile, her ridiculously gorgeous hair, and those damn bright eyes!
You don't even want to think about what will happen once your car is fixed and you have to stop taking the bus.
You'll think of a plan later.
Your knee is bouncing anxiously as you hope for Brittany to come today. You hope she didn't get some sort of other transportation. What if she decided she didn't want to see you again and decided to take another route? What if she had gotten bored of you and decided to just carpool with Mike? What if she has some sort of terminal illness and only has a week to live and she decided she didn't want to spend that weak with you. What if she moved to Spain to pursue more open, happy Latina's in place of you? What if-
"Hi San!" The sudden greeting makes you jump a bit on the bench before relaxing.
"Hey, Britt-Britt." You greet sweetly.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here yesterday; I had a small cold." She says as you sit down.
You feel a small pang at the thought that you might have given her some sort of sleep transmitted disease, but then you remind yourself that that's probably not possible.
"You feel better, right?" You frown. You realized then that if she had said that she felt terrible, you would probably take her home and make her some chicken noodle soup, no matter how much you hate cooking. That thought scares you.
"Oh yeah, loads better." She nods with a smile.
"Good, I don't want you germin' up the place." You brush off, as if you didn't quite care in the first place. You know she can see right through that though.
"Mmmhmm." She says, like Mercedes does when she hears something she doesn't believe.
You roll your eyes before speaking, "I missed you yesterday." You didn't mean to say that. You were going to say a snarky, well thought out comment.
"I missed you too." She smiles.
You don't have class the next day. Well of course you don't have class, it's Saturday. You're currently sitting in your usual booth in The Lima Bean, impatiently waiting for Kurt and Mercedes to show up for their weekly lunch. You take a long sip of your latte, and you finally see the duo walk into the place. They strut over to you and slide into the booth across from you.
"Hey girl." Mercedes greets, whereas Kurt just smiles.
"Guess what!" He says excitedly.
"What?" You sigh out, preparing yourself for some sort of excited fangirling about something really gay.
"I met a guy yesterday…" He starts, and you mentally high five yourself because, yes, you were right. You zone out as he describes every little detail of the meeting with this boy. Your mind somehow wanders to Brittany.
Her hair, her face, her eyes, her clothes, her eyebrows, her nose, her fingers, her body, her ass, and her lips, oh man, those lips.
Fuck.
It's happening again. Nope, nope, you can't fall for her again. You start to internally panic as you remind yourself of these things.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-
"Santana!" Mercedes snaps as she hits her upside the head.
"What!?" You startle, looking at the two bewilderedly. They give you funny looks.
"What's going on, Santana?" Kurt asks.
"Nothing." You answer immediately.
"Seriously, Santana." Mercedes says.
"I,uh… Brittany goes on the bus with me." They both gasp dramatically.
"The Brittany S. Pierce." He asks, dumbfounded.
"The same Brittany who was in glee club with us and stomped on your heart?" Mercedes adds.
"We were both heartbroken that day, okay." You defend, but still confirm both of those statements. They give you sympathetic looks. "It was a mutual thing." You continue under your breath.
"Your falling for her again, aren't you?" Kurt asks as he leans on his hand with a sigh. You let out a pathetic whimper, "Well, you have until my dad fixes your car to sort this entire thing out."
You pout because you know that it won't be long before your car is up and running again. It almost makes you want to cry
You're sitting in your study, attempting to grade papers, but you don't seem to be doing too great of a job. You're mind keeps wandering to Brittany and how you're going to handle this situation. You glance at your phone across your desk. Before you can stop yourself from doing so, you're reaching out to the phone and dialing a familiar number.
"Hello?" A delicate voice greets, and you're already scolding yourself for calling. You probably shouldn't have called her for advice. She may not be the most stable and rational person you know, but she was the only one of your small group of friends who has experience in making 'big plans'.
"I need your help, Quinn."
"Santana…" You can almost see her delish smirk, "What can I do for you?"
"Brittany goes on my bus a-and I'm falling for her again." You decided to go straight to the point, when you talk to Quinn for long durations of time, you start to think you're the insane one.
The line was dead silent before there was high-pitched, girly squealing on the other end. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, BRITTANA IS FUCKING ON!" She squeals. You hold the phone an arm's length away from your ear with a scowl etched on your face.
You feel a light pang at the word 'Brittana'. They used to call you two that in high school. Since the two of you were completely inseparable, they thought it'd be easier to call the two of you just Brittana instead of having to say Brittany and Santana.
"Quinn," You try to interrupt her, but the squealing and fangirling continues, "Quinn! Quinn shut the fuck up, this is serious!" You yell into the phone and the squealing dies down.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Why is this a problem though, I mean, you've been so depressed since Brittany left." She protests.
"It's a problem because she may not feel the same. She's had seven years to get over me, who's to say she hasn't already done so. She may be the one that got away for me, but I may not be the same for her." You reason with a sad voice.
"Get a hold of yourself, Santana!" She snapped. "Seven years ago, you and Brittany were madly in love. Even saying madly in love is a fucking understatement. You guys were inseparable, you guys were happy, you guys were soulmates. I'm sure seeing you has ignited at least some feelings inside of her." Quinn says it all as if it were obvious.
"I'm gonna go, I have grading to do." You tell her as you raise two fingers to pinch the bridge of your nose.
"Alright, bye Santana." Then the line went dead.
You drop the phone and will yourself not to cry. You've spent so long building up an immunity to any and all emotions, whether they be somebody else's or your own. You can't just let it all wash away now.
When you get to the bus stop, Brittany is already sitting there. She seems to become aware of the clacking of your heels against the concrete because she turns towards you and flashes one of those smiles that makes the freezing cold weather slightly less cold.
"Hi San!" She chirps as you sit down to her right.
"Hey B." You greet, pulling your scarf to sit more securely around your neck.
You're about to make light conversation, but a question appears at the back of your mind, "Are Mike and Tina married?" You had the memory of them being one of those so-cute-it's-gross types of couples.
"Yeah, the wedding was pretty cool. Everyone from the old glee club was there, and I was really disappointed when you weren't." She tells you.
That was a bittersweet statement for you. On one hand, you're happy that Brittany was disappointed. Wait, no, no, wrong wording. You're happy that even then Brittany thought about you. Then on the other hand, you weren't invited to their wedding. You may not have had the best relationship in high school with the two, but still…
"I actually… Wasn't invited." You admit.
"Oh, that's weird," You give her one of those looks that tell her to go on, so she does. "Well, I specifically requested them to invite you," Your heart soars.
"Really?" She hums to signify yes. Her mouth forms an 'O' shape as she seems to understand something.
"They probably thought they were protecting me or something when they didn't invite you. I was pretty heartbroken after the… Argument. They just didn't want that to happen again, I guess, especially when they knew I still had-" She abruptly stops speaking and tucks her lips into her mouth.
You raise an eyebrow, "Still had…" You encourage.
"Still had…" Her brain seems to be scrambling for something to say. "Sad feelings about how Lord Tubbington died." She says slowly and your eyes widened.
"Lord Tubbington died?" You ask incredulously. You're completely aware of the fact that she's cleverly moving the two of you away from the subject, but you don't want to push.
"Yeah, he had a heart attack." She said sadly with a pout.
"I'm so sorry, Britt." You wrap her in a tight embrace. You may not have been the cat's biggest fan, but Brittany loved him like crazy.
You swear you heard her mumble something like 'It was worth it', but you don't pay any mind to it, mostly because you aren't really able to understand what it means.
You pull away when the screeching tires of the bus sound from behind you and the two of you board the bus.
"Do you want to listen to music with me?" You ask, handing her an ear phone when she nods.
"Can I pick a song?" She asks timidly, and you hand over the phone. She scrolls through it for a moment before squealing and picking a song.
You have to cover your mouth to stifle a laugh as you recognize the melody that's flowing through the ear buds.
"I'm gonna pop some tags." She sings along in a manly voice, "Only got twenty dollars in my pocket." She raises a hand to her nose and taps the side of it, an old gesture that the two of you used to use during spontaneous duets that tells you that the other person is going to sing the next verse.
"I-I-I'm hunting, looking for a come-up," You sing in a manly voice, adding some gangster gestures as you continue. "This is fucking awesome." You both burst out into a fit of giggles.
Once the song finished, your giggles immediately fade as the next song comes on automatically. Your faces fade to sad, nostalgic frowns as the song you've both listened to way too many times since you've broken up comes on.
It's a happy, sweet song, it really is, but it just brings back so many memories. The song is basically a trigger for you. Almost every time you hear it, you burst out into tears.
You bite your lip, in hopes that the burning feeling in the back of your eyes aren't tears. You can't let Brittany see you cry.
You look up and make eye contact with Brittany, and her eyes are just as watery as yours. She gives you a faint smile. You break the eye contact, it was becoming too much. You look out the window at the soft snow falling.
You don't even know you're doing it, but you're singing along to the song. "And the songbirds are singing like they know the score. And I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before." You sing softly. You take a glance at Brittany to see her smiling adoringly at you. You don't quite understand the look until you realize that you had been singing along.
Before you are able to cover it up in some way, the bus stops in front of the high school. You leave with a breathless bye, carefully tugging your ear buds from her ears.
You had half a mind to tell her you love her just before you leave.
"How's my car doing?" You ask Burt, wandering around the shop, poking at things you probably shouldn't poke.
"She's doing just great. Should be up and running before the week's end." He says happily and your heart sinks.
"Oh." You say dumbly.
"Something wrong, Miss Santana?" He asks sweetly.
"No, but thanks for telling me about my car." You smile faintly at him before leaving the shop, incredibly disappointed. You know you could just not use your car and go on the bus anyways, but that would defeat the whole purpose of trying to get over Brittany. You can't fall again, you just can't.
The bus driver just so happens to choose the day you're running slightly late to arrive on time, because that's just the kind of luck you have. You let out a loud groan when you see the bus drive away just as you turn the corner. You hastily slip off your heels and run off of the bus, trying to ignore the pain in your bare feet as you step on rocks and things.
You were never too great at P.E. I mean, you have an amazing body and you're very flexible, but running was just never your thing. Coach Sylvester never made any of you run too often, other than the three laps at the beginning of practice. You're pretty sure you haven't ran since you left high school.
You gradually catch up to the point where you're just outside of Brittany's window. Brittany isn't paying attention though, she's looking down sadly.
You hastily knock, trying not to trip as you do so. You see her glance over to you with a bewildered expression that morphs into an excited expression. Then she realizes you're running along the bus. She yells a muffled stop at the bus driver who does so immediately with a sickening screech.
You jog up to the entrance and hop in, not paying any mind to the bus driver or his apologies. You plop down next to Brittany in the back and rest your forehead on her shoulder, breathing heavily.
"I… Am never…. Running again." You pant. She lets out a heavenly laugh.
She wraps an arm around your shoulder sweetly and takes the heels that are dangling from your left hand. "Poor Santana, forced to run." She teases. You try to scowl, but it's pretty difficult when her arm is around you like this. You snuggle your face into her hair with a stream of grumpy grumbles.
"At least put your shoes on." She says and gestures to the high heels in her hands. You sigh lazily, but instead of taking them from her hands, you just lift your feet up from the floor and onto her lap.
"Could you put them on for me?" You ask as sweetly as you can, even attempting to make the puppy face that Brittany used to use on you all of the time. She rolls her eyes at you, but complies anyways. When your heels are on, you don't show any intentions of moving, so she just grabs you by the knees and pulls you forward to where your feet are draped over her lap completely and she can just rest her hands at the bottom of your thigh.
The two of you ease into a conversation about Holly Holliday know what, and her hands just seem to naturally start stroking your legs. You try not to show too much pleasure to the simple action, and you try to not draw any attention to it, in fear that she may stop her movements.
The bus jolts to a stop and you reluctantly pull your feet away from Brittany. You walk away with a smile and tell her to have a great day, to which she replies with a chipper "Have a rainbow day!"
Today is your last day on the bus. You sit at the bench with your knee bouncing anxiously. You have to tell her it's your last day here, and that's not a very nice thought right now. The week had gone by quickly. Way too quickly. You fidget in your seat, switching from wringing your hands to tapping your heels against the pavement in no particular beat.
"Hi!" Brittany chirped as she arrived, collapsing down onto the bench next to you.
You send her a nervous smile, "Hey," You say.
"Is something wrong?" She asks. You shake your head; a lie.
"I'm fine." You insist when she gives you a sympathetic look.
"Okay…" She pauses, scrunching up her face in that way that you always thought was so adorable, "Did you know that our current U.S. flag was designed by a seven-teen year old boy for a school project?" Brittany asks.
"I did not know that." You smile proudly at her because—holy crap, she is so smart.
"Yeah, he got a B minus." She nods her head in confirmation. You let out a giggle that gets her to smile largely at you, as if she knew she made you proud and that was all she strived for.
"What other random facts do you know?" You ask sweetly.
She doesn't hesitate to answer, "Cherry is the most popular flavor of edible underwear." You laugh at the fact itself, and how the look on Brittany's face would suggest that she were telling you the secret of the universe.
"Are you serious?" You ask with another giggle. She nods her head vigorously. "Where do you find this stuff?"
"The internet." She shrugs lightly before continuing. "Horse-sized ducks lived in Australia about 30,000 years ago." She tells you. "I mean, can you imagine just riding off into the Australian sunset on top of a giant duck?" She motions out to the distance for emphasis. You let out a giggle.
"That sounds absolutely amazing." You tell her honestly.
The bus pulls up besides the two of you, and you suddenly remind yourself of what you have to do. The two of you both go to your usual seats in the back.
You sit in an awkward silence for a few minutes before you break the silence, "This is my last day on the bus." You blurt out. You've noticed you're not very good at holding statements and opinions in, and you're not too great with dragging things out.
"Oh." She says disappointedly. It's another moment before she speaks again; it seems as if she's trying to process this all, "Can we, like, stay in contact?"
To be honest, you want to say no. You don't want to keep in contact with her just so she can't break your heart again, or something. "I-uh, I… I don't think so." You stammer nervously.
Her brows furrow and you see her lower lip trembles. The hurt look on her face makes you want to just hug her into oblivion. "B-but… Why? I've gone so long without you, just missing you, and I don't want to have to go another long period of time without you." Her voice cracks towards the end.
"I'm sorry, Britt. I just… Can't."
"I don't understand though. Do you not like me anymore? Did I do something wrong." She slaps her palm to her forehead, "I did something stupid didn't I? I knew I shouldn't have told you all of those random useless facts! I just wanted to impress you with my knowledge, b-but… I-I." You see a few tears slip from her eyes.
"No! No, Brittany!" You say sternly. "I'm not keeping contact with you for me. You didn't do anything to make me not like you, you didn't do anything wrong at all. I just… I need to do this… For me." You justify, pleading for her to understand.
"I don't understand." She says.
"I just… I need to stop falling." She gives you a confused, sad look.
As if somebody were answering your silent pleas, the bus pulled to a stop in front of the high school. You get up from your seat and you move to where you're standing in the middle of the aisle of the bus. You look at Brittany with a sad expression.
"Good bye, Brittany." You say. You turn around and begin to walk down the bus aisle.
"Wait, Santana!" She calls, rushing out of her seat and grabs you wrist, turning you around to face her.
Without a second of hesitation, she crashes your lips together. You tense at the sudden action, you eyes wide. You slowly relax against her and ease your eyes closed, kissing back. The kiss slows from a rushed, hasty kiss to a slow and tender kiss. Her hands wrap around your torso and yours tangle into her hair, gently scratching her scalp in the way that she used to love when you two were dating.
You could feel the same spark between the two of you that you used to feel when the two of you were together, even the fireworks that explode behind your eyes. You briefly wonder if Brittany feels it too, but then you remind yourself that you're kissing Brittany and nothing else really matters.
"I don't want you to stop falling." She mumbles into the kiss.
You smile against the kiss, moving your hand to caress her cheek gently. "I've never stopped." You whisper, almost inaudibly, momentarily breaking away from the kiss.
"Do you think I could have your nombre?" She asks cheekily.
"Of course." You agree sweetly, delivering another sweet kiss to her lips.
Tada! I hope you liked this installment of One-Shot Thursday. There should be a new one *almost* every Glee Thursday, just to remind you that no matter what happens, Brittana is endgame.
~J