A.N: This is another Pezberry song fic and the sequel to 7 Things. I hope you enjoy a bit of fluff
I do not own Glee, the song 'These Words', the song 'I Wanna Sex You Up' or anything else you may see. Nor am I the legend that invented IPod's or Xbox's or Halo.
These Words
Santana Lopez was in trouble. Again. After Rachel had sang to her in front of Brittany and Quinn she had been treating her better, even holding her hand in the corridors at school (and that was a big change because Santana Lopez is not a softie). And she made everyone be nice to her. But as stupid as she is Santana forgot Valentine's Day.
Valentine's Day was on Friday and Rachel had had the whole day planned out well and had just asked the Latina to come to her house after school. Santana being Santana had forgotten and spent the whole night beating Punk on Halo. The next morning when she remembered and tried to call the diva she was ignored.
So now here she was on Sunday morning lying in her room with Quinn trying to come with a great plan to apologize and make up for the loss of gifts.
"You should sing to her." Quinn's comment had woke Santana up from the doze she was in and confused her.
"What?"
"You should sing to her about how you feel like she did to you."
"That's a great idea, I'm so glad I thought of that."
"Hey I thoug- never mind." Quinn really couldn't be bothered to argue. The only reason she was over here was to escape Brittany and her baby talk.
"And I have the perfect song to sing." The Latina said jumping up to get her IPod.
"You are not singing 'I Wanna Sex You Up'"
"Fine" Santana sat down again all grumpy and still flicking thorugh her IPod
"Wait this is the perfect song." She played it and as Quinn recognised what the song was they started belting out the chorus together.
Meanwhile in Rachel's bedroom Brittany was trying to convince the diva to forgive and forget.
"C'mon Rachel she didn't mean it she just got pre-occupied on her Xbox."
Rachel, who was curled up in a ball on her bed cuddling a teddy-bear that Santana had brought her, just shook her head.
"Maybe we're just not meant to be together."
Brittany rolled her eyes and sat down. But then she heard taps on the window and got up to have a look.
"If that's her tell her to go away."
It was indeed 'her' and Quinn. They were in Rachel's back garden, the blonde holding speakers and the raven haired girl throwing stones. Santana motioned to Brittany to open the window so she could call Rachel.
"Rach, I'm sorry please talk to me."
Rachel lifted her head of the pillow and got up to sneak a look outside. Santana was dressed casually and Rachel loved that. When she saw the speakers, her face scrunched up in confusion.
"I've got a song to sing to you, because I love you."
Rachel swooned inside, she always dreamed that Santana would sing to her one day.
"These words are my own oh whoa ...oh...oh...oh
Threw some chords together
The combination D-E-F
It's who I am, it's what I do
And I was gonna lay it down for you
I try to focus my attention
But I feel so A-D-D
I need some help, some inspiration
But it's not coming easily"
Rachel smiled at the song but stayed hidden.
"Whoah oh...
Trying to find the magic
Whoah
Trying to write a classic
Whoah
Don't you know, don't you know, don't you know?
Whoah
Waste-bin full of paper
Clever rhymes, see you later
These words are my own
From my heart flow
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you
There's no other way
To better say
I love you, I love you"
Rachel jumped up now and looked out of the window with Brittany. She saw Santana pouring her heart out into song like she did. As the Latina saw her girlfriend she smiled and put more enthusiasm into the song.
"Read some Byron, Shelley and Keats
Recited it over a Hip-Hop beat
I'm having trouble saying what I mean
With dead poets and drum machines
you know I had some studio time booked
But I couldn't find a killer hook
Now you've gone and raised the bar right up
Nothing I write is ever good enough
These words are my own
From my heart flow
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you
There's no other way
To better say
I love you, I love you...
These words are my own
From my heart flow
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you
There's no other way
To better say
I love you, I love you...
I'm getting off my stage
The curtains pull away
No hyperbole to hide behind
My naked soul exposes
Whoah... oh… oh... oh... whoah…oh... oh..."
Rachel's neighbours were now trying to figure out what was going on but Santana didn't care. She needed to do this.
"Trying to find the magic
Trying to write a classic
Waste-bin full of paper
Clever rhymes, see you later
These words are my own
From my heart flow
Don't you know
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you
There's no other way
To better say
I love you I love you
These words are my own
From my heart flow
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you
There's no other way
To better say
I love you I love you
These words are my own
They're from my heart
I love you, I love you
That's all I got to say, can't think of a better way
And that's all I got to say
I love you, is that okay...?"
Rachel grin on her face couldn't get any bigger. She managed to get her small frame to climb out the window and dropped into Santana's arms just like something out of a sappy romantic film.
"You're such a softie." Rachel mumbled into her girlfriends shoulder.
"Yeah just don't tell anyone." Was the reply as Santana leaned in for a kiss which was eagerly received. "I'm sorry. Again. All I seem to keep doing is hurting you."
"I don't care because you keep making up for it."
"But I do keep hurting you."
"And I just said I don't care. I love you and I know that you love me."
"It's all Puck's fault really. Him and stupid Halo."
As the two hyped lovers made up, Brittany had come down from Rachel's room and hugged Quinn.
"If you don't want a baby Quinn just say."
"I would love a kid with you Britt, I just don't want to go through all that pregnant stuff again especially through school again. How about I buy you a duck instead."
"A real one?"
"Yep and we'll raise kinda like a baby."
"You're as soft as Santana."
"No I'm so not as soft as her."
A.N: Nobody call Quinn Fabray a softie, well maybe Brittany can now and again.
