AN: Hey all, long time no see. I know, I still have a lot of unfinished business and I've disappeared for a long time, but I'm back, at least for now. Neighbors is a piece I've been working on for a while and I have it on my tumblr, but I'm hoping maybe to reach more people via . So, I hope you enjoy and just know that I'm looking over my old fics to do edits, rewrites and finish (in the case of Brittany and the Beast, in time.) Also, I know this is short, but the next part is quite long. Just stick with me. Hope you all are fantastic.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Santana groans, turning over in her bed. She hisses as she rolls right into the light filtering through her shades. She always forgets to close them when she goes to bed. She buries her face into her pillow.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"What the fuck," she grumbles, lifting her head and opening her eyes. Her body stretches and collapses back onto the bed. She groans loudly. "Who the fuck is that." She turns over, looking at the clock on her nightstand.
9:07.
It takes a few more seconds of blinking to shake away the confusion and realize the sound isn't coming from someone knocking on her door.
Thump. Thump.
It's coming from her wall. The wall she shares with her neighbor.
She pulls herself up, glaring hard at the wall. "Fine," she mumbles. She stretches, crawling out of her bed. She doesn't bother to brush her teeth or check herself in her bathroom mirror. She grabs her jacket off of her dresser and shoves her arms angrily into the holes. She slides her bare feet into her shoes by the front door, throwing it open. She steps onto her small metal porch and blinks, trying to adjust her eyes to the light mid-morning light.
She runs down the steps, hearing the faint echo of another three thumps.
She reaches the bottom of her steps and walks quickly behind the back of the small building. She stands at the bottom of her neighbors stairs looking up. She folds her arms over her chest and inhales slowly. Slowly, she takes the first step, then another.
She thinks about how she didn't get home until almost three in the morning, a mere six hours ago, and her pace quickens. She's nearly running when she steps in front of her neighbors identical front. She opens the screen and raises her hand to knock loudly.
The door opens.
"Yes?"
Santana blinks, hand still raised. She stares for a moment, mouth slightly open, eyes narrow, head cocked. The person staring at her is not who she expected to see at all. A girl about her age, with blonde hair, the bluest eyes and the most curious smile.
"Can I help you?" she asks Santana.
Santana quickly closes her mouth, lowering her hand.
"I heard you coming up the stairs."
Still Santana says nothing. She clears her throat and takes a step back, regretting the action as soon as she does it.
The girl smiles, pushing the screen door open wider and holding it for Santana. She doesn't speak.
"What was that noise?" Santana asks.
"What was what noise?" the girl asks.
Santana narrows her eyes. "The thumping. The thumping that woke me up."
"You were sleeping?" The girl asks tilting her head slightly.
Santana watches as those blue eyes look her up and down. She narrows her own. "Yes, I was sleeping. It's early."
"It's nine."
"Well," Santana begins. "It's got to be at least nine thirteen now and I was sleeping."
"I didn't mean to wake you," the girl says leaning against the door frame and smiling her slight smile again.
Santana stares. "What were you even doing?"
"Hammering."
"Hammering." Santana repeats slowly.
"Yes, hammering." The girl nods once as if to help Santana confirm the statement.
"You were hammering this early?"
The girl shrugs. "I didn't think it was that early."
"Well there are other people here for you to consider," Santana snaps, crossing her arms over her chest.
The girls expression changes, her head tilts again. Santana watches closely as her neighbors eyes travel down and up again. The action makes her body hot with nerves. "The salon has been open since eight," the girl says.
"I'm not the salon," Santana spits back.
"Obviously," the girl says with a small giggle, looking at Santana's hair.
"Okay listen," Santana says, losing her patience. "I work late. I get home late, I get to bed at around four maybe, if I'm lucky. I don't appreciate you hammering, and not even the good kind of hammering, this early. So stop."
The girl nods as she listens and stares at Santana for a few seconds after she's stopped talking. "I'll stop," she says.
Santana stares for a moment. "Well good...then."
"You're welcome," the girl says, smiling.
"I didn't say thank you."
A moment of silence passes between them. Santana looks down at her work shoes.
"Can I get your number?" the girl asks.
Santana's head jerks up. She stares at the girl hard, mouth open slightly. "What?"
The girl shrugs. "We're neighbors, I already have your address." She stops, standing up straight. "That way if my hammering ever bothers you again you can just call me."
"So this hammering is a habit of yours?" Santana asks, rolling her eyes.
The girl frowns slightly. "Not sure yet," she replies in earnest.
Santana is quiet for a moment. "Do you really want my number?"
The girl smiles again. "I like making friends. I also like having more contacts in my phone than everyone else."
"Are you fucking with me?"
"Not yet."
Santana stares at the girl. "You're insane."
"No, I'm Brittany," Brittany replies, smiling.
"Brittany." Santana has never had a friend named Brittany before.
The name feels smooth in her mouth.
"Give me your phone," Santana says softer than she means to.
Brittany nods her head. She reaches into her pocket and hands her cell phone to Santana. She watches as Santana's fingers move quickly over the screen.
"Santana?" Brittany says the name slowly, looking down at the screen of her iPhone.
"Yes."
"Like the band?" Brittany says, looking up and grinning.
Santana exhales sharply, closing her eyes, patience wavering again. "No, not like the band."
"Just Santana then."
Her eyes meet Brittany's for a moment before she looks away. "Yeah, just Santana."
"What are you doing tonight, Santana?" Brittany asks, sliding her phone back into her pocket.
"It's my day off," Santana supplies without meaning to. She narrows her eyes. "Why?"
"Well, it's mine too. I was wondering if you'd like to get to know your neighbor better. I know I would," Brittany says. "And no, I'm not fucking with you."
"I didn't ask," Santana snaps.
"You looked like you were thinking it," Brittany says. "I'm going to Beiste's tonight with my friends for dinner. Come with us. It'll be fun and you can get out of your apartment without having to work."
"I haven't been to Beiste's," Santana says. Her skin growing hot again.
"I know," Brittany says. "I work there. I would have remembered you."
"How many friends?" Santana asks, choosing to ignore Brittany's comment.
"Four of us all together, five including you."
"So I'd be the fifth wheel?" Santana asks, unimpressed.
"What has five wheels?" Brittany asks, face scrunched in confusion.
Santana narrows her eyes. "Is that a joke?"
"No?" Brittany replies, cocking an eyebrow up. "Either way please come. It'll be fun. My friends aren't fun but I make them fun."
Santana glances down, shifting her weight. "Alright," she replies. "What the hell."
"Awesome," Brittany says, eyes meeting Santana's as she looks up. "Sorry about the hammering."
Santana shrugs. "I'm up now, might as well continue."
"I promise, the next time I get hammered I'll ask your permission first or for you to join me."
Santana opens her mouth to reply but Brittany cuts her off.
"Now I am fucking with you. I'll see you tonight. I'll pick you up at seven."
"You'll pick me up?" Santana raises her eyebrows. "You'll pick me up?"
"Well, I invited you and I already know your address," Brittany sing-songs.
"Fine," Santana says, turning away.
She's halfway down the stairs when Brittany calls after her. "Nice to meet you just Santana."
Santana pauses midstep, half tempted to turn around and make a sarcastic comment. She shakes her head, continuing down . She hears a light laugh and the door to Brittany's apartment shutting.
She shoves her hands into her pockets as she climbs her steps. She pulls open her screen door and takes off her jacket, leaving her apartment door open. She folds her jacket over her arm and heads to her bedroom, setting it on her dresser. She sits on the edge of her bed and kicks off her shoes.
She closes her eyes for a moment. She pulls her legs onto the bed, turning on her side and staring at the wall. She waits for the thumping to begin.
She snaps awake, sitting up quickly and looking at her bedside table.
The clock reads 11:23.
She stares at it for a moment. She isn't sure why she's smiling so softly.
