Hello again :)
This fic started with just a sentence. (the third paragraph, actually) And then it turned into this. I've learned that my fics have a common theme, but twisted, broken minds are something I can write about with ease.
I decided to take a bit of a risk with this one though and changed it stylistically. It's written differently than most anything else I've published on here. But I love the way this chapter came out. It's just an idea though. Let me know if anyone's actually interested in me continuing it. I have a good idea with how I want this to go, but I know that this fic is a shot in the dark.
Again, as always, I own nothing but the twisted world I throw these characters in.
I hope you enjoy :)
Santana didn't drink often, but when she did, she partied hard. Shot after shot of alcohol as strong as gasoline were poured down her throat until the party around her reduced to a colorful blur. The bass was so hard that she could feel it pounding deep in her chest and all the way down to where the soles of her dark red Converse met the floor. Lights of reds and blues and greens flashed before her eyes, drawing her further and further into them. She closed her lids and felt her body sway to the music, being taken away by the thrashing guitars and drums.
In times like this, Santana could ignore the world. Santana could pretend that it was just her and her body and the music. Life didn't exist. The thirty odd people in the room with her weren't there, and she wasn't at another random house party. Santana just was.
And then when morning came and she began to sober up and the world began to come crashing back down into the twisted reality she lived, it crushed her with an overbearing weight.
She was disrupted from her solo dancing by a rough hand being placed on her shoulder. She opened her eyes and was met with the flirty smile of a boy.
Santana put on her charm. She moved her hips in that way that she knew would have him hypnotized. She backed herself up so that she could feel the warmth coming from his body. His hands were soon on her waist, pulling her flush against him.
She could feel his hot breath on her neck when he spoke. "You wanna take this upstairs?"
Santana didn't hesitate to nod yes and allow herself to be pulled across the living room and towards the staircase. Her legs were barely walking in a straight line, and so she shut her eyes, finding the world slightly more tolerable like that. His firm, hot grasp on her wrist led her where she needed to go.
Halfway up the staircase, Santana just so happened to open her eyes. Her breath got caught in her throat as she found a pair of incredibly blue eyes looking back at her. It felt as if the world stood still, and these eyes could penetrate straight through her very being and see all of Santana's deepest, darkest secrets.
Never had she ever felt more naked and vulnerable.
Her eyes remained locked onto the beautiful blonde face that the eyes belonged to before she was pulled further up the stairs and into the nearest bedroom.
Within moments, Santana felt the hard wood of the door on her back as she was slammed into it with a frightening force.
She didn't flinch.
His lips were on hers quickly, fighting for dominance as his rough, calloused hands explored under her shirt, running worn fingers over the smooth skin of her stomach. They traveled further until they met the edge of her bra.
Santana let him.
In one quick motion, his strong arms picked up her tiny body and carried her over to the bed, never once breaking contact with her lips, even as he dropped her into the pale blue comforter. Her eyes were closed, but she could taste the air he was exhaling as he panted and roamed across her body with his hands. Those hands grabbing at the edges of her shirt, trying to will it off. And so she lifted up ever so slightly to make it easier on him. Those same hands pulling at her pants to slide them down her narrow hips, and she lifted herself up to help.
And her eyes stayed closed as she heard the sound of the zipper of his pants and the rustling of fabric as he stripped himself of his clothes before taking off her panties.
Santana helped take her bra off.
This is something she was good at. Something she was always good at. She knew how to make herself feel completely numb while a guy slammed his sweaty, disgusting body into her. She knew how to make all the right noises to make them feel like they were doing a good job.
But it never left her with anything more than a feeling of utter emptiness inside. And it didn't help that this time, she had the vision of haunting blue eyes etched in her brain.
Judging her.
Filled with shock, concern, and disappointment. As if they knew what was going to happen when Santana went upstairs.
Her mind remained on those blue eyes as he pulled out and gave her a rough kiss on the lips, telling her how amazing and hot she was before he started getting himself dressed again. Santana lay on the bed just watching him until he left her alone. Then and only then did she gather up her clothing and dress herself. She looked into the mirror into her own eyes.
Hollow. Broken. Sad.
She couldn't find any other words. Her eyes spoke of everything brewing within her.
And so she tousled her hair a bit and headed out of the room and down the stairs with her shoes in her hand. As she walked out the door, she felt a pair of blue eyes digging into her back, but she didn't turn around.
The coldness of the early autumn air had chilled the sidewalk, making it cold beneath Santana's bare feet. The occasional breeze nipped at her exposed arms and legs, and waved her long brown hair behind her. Santana didn't let it affect her. She kept walking. She knew she had a bit of a walk before she was at her house.
Always a house and never a home.
The quiet of the night was disturbed by the hushed sound of a car slowly pulling up behind her. Even in her inebriated state, Santana's instinct made her body tense. She picked up her pace ever so slightly, keeping her head forward and not on the car that was now slowly coasting at her side.
The window rolled down and a voice met Santana's drunk ears. "You want a ride?"
Santana wasn't stupid. It didn't matter how drunk she was. She was never stupid enough to get a ride from a stranger. For what? So she could be raped, mugged, murdered and then disposed of in some alleyway? No thank you.
But this wasn't the voice of a creepy man with bad intentions. This was the voice of a girl. A sweet girl. Something in her voice made Santana stop and actually look in her direction. The moment Santana met concerned blue eyes, she nodded and walked over to the door and opened it, sliding down onto the leather seat without a word.
The blonde started slowly driving. No music was turned on in the car. Neither said a word. Santana's brain was torn. One side felt on high alert since she was in a car with a total stranger. And yet, the other side felt so relaxed and at ease in this stranger's presence that Santana closed her eyes, leaned her head back against the headrest and let out a breath.
"You'll have to tell me which way," the stranger said suddenly, startling Santana out of her peaceful relaxation. "I don't know where you live."
"Turn at the railroad tracks, go down two stoplights and turn right." Santana's voice sounded deep and scratchy, as if she had just woken up.
The girl nodded. "I'm Brittany, by the way," she added. "Figure I might as well introduce myself."
Santana looked at her and nodded. Brittany. It suited her. Santana's eyes roamed Brittany's face and took in every feature from her bright blue eyes, her thin pale lips, and the faint freckles on her cheek. Santana observed as Brittany's eyes quickly flitted off to the side, acutely aware of the fact that Santana was watching her.
"Why'd you pick me up?" Santana asked suddenly, causing Brittany to turn her head and look at the tanned brunette.
"Because you were drunk," Brittany stated, "and I didn't want you walking around drunk by yourself late at night."
"Why?" Santana questioned. "You don't know me. You would have no responsibility or guilt if I was raped or murdered or hit by a car or died of alcohol poisoning. You don't know me."
Brittany frowned, passing by the first streetlight. "Why are you mad? I was helping."
Santana shook her head and looked forward out the window again, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's help."
"Everyone needs someone some times." Brittany made the right and pulled into a neighborhood. Houses were broken. Shutters falling off windows. Under the flickering street lights, a group of hooded figures turned to watch her car drive by. The whole situation gave Brittany chills.
"Not me," Santana said. "Stop here." They pulled up towards one of the slightly more well-kept houses. Without a word, Santana grabbed her shoes and opened her door, shutting it behind her as she walked up to her front door.
"Wait," she heard behind her. She turned around and saw Brittany with her window down. "What's your name?"
Santana paused for a moment. Normally, she wouldn't tell this girl. Everything in her better judgment said not to let this girl close to her. She didn't need to know her name. There was no point in formalities. But it didn't stop the fact that there was this tiny ounce of Santana's being that fought against that judgment and, ultimately, won.
"Santana," she called, and turned around and walked into her house. Without turning on the lights, she peered out the front window. A full two minutes passed before Brittany's car finally pulled away, and Santana walked down the hall to her bedroom in the darkness, counting out the steps.
16 steps forward.
Turn left.
She reached her hand out blindly and grabbed onto the doorknob, pulling it open to reveal nothing but more blackness. She shut the door behind her and started stripping herself of her clothes, tossing them haphazardly off to the sides into the overwhelming blackness during her walk to her bed.
She wrapped her tiny, naked body in the warmth of the comforter, cocooning herself within its safety. Whether her eyes were shut or open, she was left in total darkness with her thoughts swirling before her eyes like photos and videos, haunting her. Images of the party and of the boy and of Brittany's knowing eyes flashed through her mind. Santana didn't even notice when tears started to slowly fall.
And then the tears erupted. Her sobs moved her entire frame, leaving her short of breath and hiccupping for air. Desperate hands gripped onto the comforter, holding on to the ground around her with the fear that at any moment, she might just float away. She used all of the strength she had within her to anchor herself down to the life she lived. Her muscles trembled. Her lip quivered. Her eyes released a constant stream of tears that had no apparent stopping.
Until it did. Until her body was so exhausted that she couldn't seem to find the energy within herself to remain awake any longer and her body just gave way to everything, throwing her deep into a slumber that was destined to be haunted by a pair of blue eyes.
The chapter is shorter than anything i'd expect to write for this fic, but I really just wanted to set a tone. Even if you guys say you don't want to read more, i'll probably keep writing. you know me. I can never stay away from the idea of writing about an emotional wreck of a person.
Reviews make me happy :)