It's the first time someone has climbed through her bedroom window, but it definitely won't be the last.
Rachel Berry is sat on her bed when Santana appears from the darkness of the night and climbs in through the window. She doesn't bother to ask why she's here because she already knows, somehow she knows Santana better than anyone.
"Brittany."
At the word Santana breaks down, falls to the floor, her body wracked with sobs. Wordlessly Rachel moves to hold her and Santana cries in her arms for over an hour.
It becomes a regular occurrence, Santana's late night visits, and pretty soon it happens almost nightly. Sometimes they'll talk, other times they wouldn't. They might sing and laugh, or they might shout and cry. Sometimes they will kiss. When Santana leaves in the early hours she will look the smaller girl in the eye and say: This doesn't mean anything, you know, I love her. Not you. And Rachel Berry will cry herself to sleep.
Four months later they're sitting crossed legged on Rachel's bedroom floor, painting each other's nails. "Quinn," Santana says without looking up. "You like her don't you?" Rachel's head shoots up with a look of confusion on her (pretty, Santana thinks) face.
"No."
Santana raises an eyebrow.
"Yes."
Rachel can't lie to her.
"But I like you more."
Santana sighs and shakes her head; they've been through this before.
The last night Santana climbs through Rachel's window she has her guitar and a smile on her face. They sit and talk and then Santana plays her a song, singing softly and watching the look of admiration in the other girl's eyes.
As she's leaving she cups Rachel's face gently in her hands, kissing her sweetly before whispering: Maybe this does mean something. Maybe it's you I love now.
This time she leaves through the front door.