Disclaimer: I don't own glee or Santana or, sadly, Finn. If I did they would be hooking up on the show right now.
Santana laid on the couch in her family home. TV remote in one hand and a cold glass of lemonade in the other. She was bored. There was no other explanation. Brittany hadn't been around much, her parents had taken her hiking and Quinn had been spending her time doing god knows what. Leaving Santana by herself, in summer vacation, when she should be out enjoying herself just like everyone else in this sorry cow town she called home. Hell, even her parents were out enjoying themselves at some lame country club that Santana wouldn't be seen dead at. Besides all the stuck up twats that went there that called themselves 'normal' would always look down their noses at Santana because of her ghetto speak and, so she suspected, her sexual orientation. Not that she was ashamed of being bisexual, actually it was pretty awesome, she just wanted people to stop judging her for it.
With one last flick of the channel she gave up. Nothing even vaguely good was on. In fact right now she felt like shooting whoever invented day time TV. It was a load of utter crap. Crap that she couldn't bear to watch anymore. Eventually she hauled herself up off the couch, abandoning the tv remote on the coffee table with the TV still switched on. She brought the red straw up to her lips and took one last sip of the cool beverage before dumping it on the kitchen counter, lazily walking through the bigger then necessary kitchen and into the main hallway. As she made her way up the stairs her eyes would glance towards the 'Lopez family photos' her mother had insisted upon having taken the summer before Santana started McKinley. They were a waste of money in her opinion. She didn't feel the need to be reminded of her family every time she walked up the stairs.
Once she was safely in the sanctuary of her bedroom she grabbed her phone from her bedside table and flopped down onto her bed. No texts, not even one from Brittany, typical. It looked like she was going have to text them. She slowly scrolled through her contacts list, at a total lose. There was basically no one. Mike and Tina would be spending time together, as would Kurt, Blaine, Mercedes and Rachel, maybe even Sam. And there was no doubting the fact that Puck would be spending time with Lauren. There was always Karofsky but frankly she was not in the mood to deal with someone who was so far in the closet that they were living in Narnia. That only left her with one more option; Finn. The lovable goof. She chewed on her bottom lip, debating whether it would be worth it or not. There was always the chance he would be with Berry and, frankly, she didn't want to get turned down for that dwarf again. With a roll of her eyes, and a mental telling off, she quickly typed up a short text; 'Finnocence, I'm bored. Entertain me.' And sent it to the giant of a boy, now all she had to do was wait for his reply.
She doesn't have to wait long. In fact his reply is almost immediate. 'Hey San! I kinda can't, hanging with Rach and all'. Just the mention of his midget girlfriend makes her want to scream ad throw her phone at the wall. The two honestly make her want to vomit whenever she sees them. Parts of her wants to ring Rachel's next and run off with Finn, she doesn't know where this urge comes from. She just knows that it wouldn't go away unless she insults Rachel or, on rare occasions, makes out with Finn. Deep down she knows it's because she loves Finn, she loves him and she's jealous of Rachel. She's jealous that Rachel had managed to bag the man she's wanted for quite a while now. And she almost got him, they were so close to becoming an official couple and then Quinn got in the way. He had left her, he told her that he couldn't continue with what they were doing because he still loved Quinn and he left her. And that was the end of that. No more make out sessions in the back of his car. No more sex in her shower when her parents went to the country club. It was all gone and it was Quinn's fault. Needless to say she hadn't been on the best of terms with Quinn during the few months she was with Finn.
'Fine. Fuck you, Hudson.' is her simple reply. She doesn't need him, she doesn't need anyone. Or so she keeps telling herself. But really she knows that she does. She just wants to be loved by the person she loves, and claims to be over. Sure, she loved Brittany. She loved her so much it hurt sometimes but then there was Finn. And for some reason it hurts more to love him. Because she knows she can't have him. In his eyes she doesn't hold a candle to St. Rachel. Vaguely she heard her phone ding, signalling she had a text, probably from Finn. She didn't read it. She didn't want to hear how sorry he was or how they should meet up when he wasn't with Rachel. Santana never played second to anyone. Especially not that dwarf. Again, she hears the small ding signalling another text. Again she ignores it. She wonders if it's Finn again. Then again he was probably too busy macking out on Rachel to care about her.
She's about to walk out her room, about to go downstairs and indulge herself in chocolate brownie ice-cream and a good action movie, when she hears her phone ding for a third time. This time she's annoyed. She turns on her heel and walks over to the offending phone, sliding the screen up. She had three texts, all from Finn. She couldn't bring herself to read them. She didn't want to be rejected three times. So she simply opens the bedside table drawer and drops her phone in there. Then she half runs, half walks out the door. Scared she'd hear another ding. Receive another text from Finn.
She spends the next two hours wrapped up in her favourite Pirates of the Caribbean film. An empty tub of Ben & Jerry's stood on the coffee table; a spoon leant against the inside. She's so wrapped up in the film, in how hot Orlando Bloom looks, that the knock at the door catches her completely of guard. She hadn't heard the truck pull up in her driveway nor the drivers heavy footsteps walking up to her front door. And she's hesitant to answer the door. Her appearance had deteriorated in the last two hours since the phone incident. Her soft dark curls were now pulled into a messy ponytail and her red dress had been replaced with a pair of comfortable jogger bottoms and an oversized t-shirt, an oversized t-shirt Finn had once left at her house and she has just simply 'forgotten' to return it.
She hears the person knock a second time, they were becoming impatient. "Alright, I'm freaking coming." She yells, cringing at the sexual innuendo she accidentally made.
She hears the person outside sigh and imagines they're running their hands through their hair. She doesn't know why.
Eventually she makes it to the big front door, grasping hold of the brass handle. The door swings back to reveal a very nervous looking Finn Hudson who engulfs her in a hug as soon as he sets eyes on her, leaving Santana standing there, completely shocked by the latest turn of events.
"Shit, Tana. I was so worried." He muttered, still clinging onto her. She can feel herself giving into his embrace, her arms snaking around his waist. "You didn't return any of my texts, my calls. I left you a freaking voicemail." He pulls away, taking in the sight of her, looking relieved that she was all there in one piece.
"You're such a dork, Hudson." She mutters, pulling away from him. It felt too good to be that close. "My phone's upstairs, I'm downstairs. Do the math."
Finn stands there for a moment. Trying to piece together what she just said. It took him a while but once he realised he took a step forward, intent on hugging her again. He liked to hug her. He knew she was safe in his arms.
"I'm sorry." He whispers quietly, so quietly Santana almost didn't hear him.
"What?"
"I'm sorry."
"Why?"
He sighs, wanting to run a hand through his hair. But since both arms are currently wrapped around Santana's small frame it wouldn't be productive. "For not coming over when you asked me to. For leaving you alone."
Santana was having one of those moments. One of those moments when she would stand there not knowing what to say.
"And I'm sorry for choosing Rachel over you."
This caught her attention. She tried to pull away but he just tightened his grip on her. Santana would be lying if she said she didn't like it. She loved forceful Finn. Then again she just loved Finn.
"She's your girlfriend, Frankenteen, of course you'd rather mack on that then spend time with me."
Finn sighed again, a little more frustrated this time. "That's not what I meant, San, though I'm sorry for that too."
Santana simply raised a perfectly waxed eyebrow.
"When me and Quinn broke up I thought about you, honestly I couldn't stop thinking about you when I was with her. I didn't know what to do, San. I mean what he had before was nothing right? It was just a bit of fun.." he trailed off, looking down at her to search her face to search for some kind of sign to say that he was right. He didn't find one. "I'm sorry."
"Stop saying that." Santana almost yelled, breaking away from him. She didn't need this. She didn't want this. At least that was what she was telling herself. "If that's all you came to say then you can go now. Apology accepted. You can show yourself out." She stormed over to the couch, retaking her seat. No daring to look at Finn.
Finn stood there momentarily, eyes focused on Santana. Willing her to give up, to talk to him again. It seemed like all hope was lost. He looked towards the door and back at her. Why did she have to be so damn difficult all the freaking time. This in mind he made his way over to the Latina. Leaning down to kiss her cheek gently, letting him lips linger there for a moment.
"I love you, Santana." He whispered into her ear as he pulled back. "That's what I've wanted to say all this time." She had visibly frozen. Her eyes set forward, her body not moving. He wasn't going to get a reaction out of her tonight. He kissed the top of her head one more time and was gone by the time she looked around.
An hour later Finn was laying in his bed, staring up at his ceiling, going over the day's events in his mind. He heard the ding of his phone, reaching out to snatch it from under his pillow. He couldn't help the grin that played on his lips.
'I love you too. – S.'
