New year, new start, new story :)

Hello, my darling readers! I'm back with weekly updates! This year is a super busy year for me, but I'll hopefully always be around and always find time to put you guys first:)

The story is AU and endgame! and the inspiration came mainly from three places: a Japanese manga, a Korean movie, and a Taiwanese TV drama. I'll dedicate a chapter to the first person who guesses the name of any one of these three inspirations correctly! So... three people will have a chance to get a chapter dedication :)

I know this isn't the happiest prologue. But it's the start of something new... so this prologue is for QuinntanaEverAfter, who stuck with me through thick and thin, kept me entertained when I was bored, gave the greatest bear hugs and the best ideas, and made sure I got back on my feet every time I fell down. You made this story possible. You're the absolute best.

My dear darlings, keep me going for this story, yeah? Shower me with a little love~?

Little things alter us.

We meet new people,

and others fade.

Each person gives a little,

and takes a little…

—sometimes, they take a lot…

But it was always the littlest things that really mattered.

Prologue

Quinn's POV

I've always wondered what it would be like to be with a girl. Would she be gentle? Tender, perhaps. I always thought she'd kiss me gently on the lips, taking her sweet time, caressing every inch of skin on my body and setting me on fire. Maybe she'd kiss me on the neck, trail her way downwards… Maybe she'd show me a night of ecstasy, one I'd never forget.

Forbidden pleasure.

And perhaps after all of that, she'd hold me in her arms, just for one night, and she'd make me feel safe, secure, almost like I belonged to someone.

And that was all that I could think of on the plane back from Los Angeles. It's funny that this thought never once crossed my mind during my three days of escape, and instead, should only appear when I was but hours away from reality.

But that's why, when I saw her at the baggage claim, at 2:07am, I knew I had to do something. It was one of those once-in-a-lifetime moments, where seeing a stranger made your heart skip a beat—and you don't quite understand why—and you felt connected simply because they smiled at you. And then you smiled back.

But I didn't. I didn't take the chance. What was I meant to do? Walk up and tell that goddess I was mildly attracted to her, and that maybe… maybe we could go do something daring? No part of me dared to do that. Besides, every part of me told me that it was wrong. It was against all the morals I had been taught as a child, against every noble value I knew.

Then again, wasn't my entire life?

As I pulled my black suitcase from the conveyor belt, I turned, hoping to catch one last glimpse of her. But she was gone.

Feeling weary already, I dragged the suitcase along the lighted hallways. I have half a night more to live, less than 6 hours before before I resume my duties, and pick up my life once more.

The light vibration in my purse makes me stop my steps, the sound of my ballet flats on the tiled floor coming to a halt. Unknown caller. On any normal night I wouldn't have picked up. But tonight was the last night for me to be me, and so, well, why not? I'd already missed the one that would have made the greatest impact on my life anyway. Wouldn't hurt to pick up a stranger's call once in a while.

"Hello?"

"Uh… Is this Lucy Q. Fabray?"

I'm hesitant, and yet nonetheless find this somewhat thrilling. They say mystery never fails to enthral. The stranger's voice is musical, "Yes…"

"Hi, this is Santana. I believe we might have swapped our luggage?"

"Hm?" I look down at the black suitcase, surprised to find my usual luggage tag gone. So maybe we really did switch. "Oh, whoops. Sorry… I think so…"

"Are you still at the airport?"

"Yeah. Are you? Wanna meet up and swap back?" It was a daring request on my behalf, really. I never meet up with strangers like this. Strangers are dangerous.

But I want my luggage back, and even on a night so special, it's more important than my caution towards strangers.

"Yeah. You know the coffee shop in the Arrival Hall?"

"The one by the corner?"

"Yea, I'm there already… Can you come?"

"Alright. Be there in five." I pick up my steps again, heading straight for the exit.

I wonder what woman would be waiting for me at the coffee shop. She sounds young, energetic. Perhaps she'd be blonde, brunette… Is she tall or short? Perhaps she was an aspiring writer. Or maybe someone famous. Maybe she'd have the best fashion sense ever, so great that even Kurt's fabulous jaw would drop open. Or perhaps she was uptight, followed every rule by the book. Judgemental. Hurtful.

A hypocrite.

I turn the corner near the coffee shop and realize it is near empty at this unorthodox hour of the night, and there are only three people sitting at the tables. One is a middle aged man, squinting into a newspaper article. One is an old woman, praying silently, yet with her lips moving, her fingers gently swiping along her rosary beads. The last… A young woman, with gorgeous flowing black hair, a flaming red cocktail dress, reading a book as she stirs her coffee.

She looks up just as I approach her table. I stop dead in my tracks.

It's her.

"Hi, is it Lucy?" She smiles at me, that same smile she offered at the baggage claim, "I believe we've met before?"

I smile softly, trying to hide my shock, "I saw you at the baggage claim?"

"I smiled at you, didn't I? And you smiled back!" I did? She grins at me, and I catch a childlike fire in her eyes. It surprises me that she should remember a plain girl like me from one look at the baggage claim. "So charmed by my smile that you took my luggage instead, mm?"

"No… Of course not" I mutter, my brows knitting together as I bite my lip. Am I easy to read, or is she just a tease? "I should… get going…"

"Got someone waiting for you at home?" She ventures, slipping a thin bookmark between the pages and setting the book aside.

"Not… exactly…" I force a small smile, "But it's late."

"Or early, depends on how you see it. Two sides to every story." She brushes her hair from her face, resting her elbow on the small table and her head on her hand. She studies me for about a full minute,"Hey, let's go for a drink."

"I… I don't drink…"

"Nonsense, I saw you drink that cocktail on the plane," Santana laughs softly, standing up. "I don't think I've introduced myself properly. I'm Santana Lopez," she holds out her hand, expecting me to take it. I do, in a somewhat weak handshake, quickly pulling my hand away.

"Lucy Fabray." Somehow I feel shy around her.

"Come with me? I'll get you home before sunrise, princess?" The way she's so airy, so carefree, so limitless… she's almost the opposite of me.

Everything in her screams freedom.

I want it.

"I'll come," I murmur, taking my own luggage this time as she stuffs the novel into her handbag, slinging it over her shoulder, "But none of that princess stuff." The clicking of her heels lead the way out of the airport, and I follow behind.

And just like that, I found myself at a hotel. It wasn't cheap, one of those road-side ones that you see people going in and out at all times of the night. It was a nice one, grand, with soft beds, nice wines.

Santana took me into a room, and it looked perfect. The lighting was soft and mild, the carpeted floor soft, the view overlooking the city almost breathtaking. But it was only when she pressed her body against mine, trapping me against the wall that I noticed from the corner of my eye that the room held only one bed.

"Would you mind?" she whispers into the shell of my ear, sending a flood of foreign emotions coursing through my veins.

Life had given me a second chance, and this time, I was more than ready to take it. I didn't struggle in her hold. Finding no words on my tongue, I simply nodded.

And seeing this, Santana wasted no time in leading me to the bed. She was gentle. In the dim lights of the room, she kissed my wrist gently, watching my every emotion.

More than once, I saw passion in her eyes. She helped me lie down, made me relax as she kissed softly along my neck, my breath hitching at every new sensation. I closed my eyes and I remember my mind being cleared of worry, cleared of reality the moment her lips touched my bare breasts. I don't quite remember when or how she had undressed me, but when I opened my eyes again, I was in nothing but panties, and she was wearing only a bra and a thong.

And never did I think she could have looked more beautiful. Nor did I ever dare imagine that I should feel as though I was treasured, so loved.

She didn't beat me. She didn't hurt me or force me into anything I didn't want. She took her time, making sure I felt comfortable as she moved closer.

And it was on a night like that, under the dim lights and on the soft mattress, that I was taught to let myself go. It was on a night like that, with tender touches and sweet nothings, that I let her unravel me. It was on a night like that, that I experienced such ecstasy that nothing, no one had ever offered me, that I experienced such love, security, belonging.

She didn't rush into anything, and it was so much more than I ever could have imagined.

And with Santana, I felt an intimacy I never felt before.

Pity. Waking up in her arms, the room still smelling faintly of sex, I realized I was living a dream. I realized it wasn't going to last.

Why?

Because our worlds were simply too different. We couldn't possibly exist in the same world.

It was all meant to be a one time thing. We were never supposed to meet again.

We parted as strangers.