You search the room for someone, anyone, to talk to. You're not sure why you let Quinn drag you to this party, you knew she would ditch you to go make out with Puckermam. You suppose you let her because the idea of staying home on New Year's Eve was kind of sad, but right now you're starting to rethink your decision. You'd rather be at home, cuddled in bed with you laptop and comics, than here standing awkwardly off to the side, drink in hand, in some strangers' living room. Seriously, you can't even go five seconds without hearing somebody shout YOLO followed by a roar of laughter.
Pure torture.
You continue your search for somebody who seems sane and not completely drunk off their asses. To put it simply, your search isn't going too well. The only person who seems somewhat sane and not drunk off her ass is that one brunette girl with the bangs and the reindeer sweater, but judging by how fast her mouth is moving she seems way too annoying for your taste.
You take another sip of beer from your red solo cup before relaxing all of your weight onto the wall behind you. Everyone around you is a loud, drunken mess. You briefly wonder if you should have invested in some earplugs before coming here.
Your thoughts were interrupted by a timid tap on your right shoulder. You turn your head and open your mouth, an insult ready for the next guy who thinks he can get you in bed by the nights end. But it never comes. Instead of the expected sleazy ass hole, there was a blonde girl sporting a shy smile on her face. You're eyes immediately soften and you close your mouth.
"Hi." The girl greets shyly.
"Hello." You give her an awkward, small wave, trying not to get lost in her electrifying blue eyes.
"I like your glasses." She smiles a bit wider, her confidence seemingly growing. You awkwardly push them further up your nose.
"Uh, thanks. I like your," you take a moment to look the girl over, but you find that your eyes refuse to leave hers. "Eyes. They're very pretty." You can't help believe you don't really belong on her presence. She's much more beautiful than most people you're used to talking to.
"Thank you." You could swear that you saw her blush, even in the crappy lighting.
There was a short awkward silence, where you finally broke eye contact with the girl and looked down into your beer. It was a few minutes at the least before you finally raised your head to say something to break the silence, when you realize she's not standing in front of you like where she had been before. You frown and look around for a second before you see that she's being dragged away by a blonde with enormous lips who seems to be in need of something urgently.
"Sorry." She mouths to you, and you know she's being sincere.
You look back into your cup, hoping she'll be back sometime soon. You honestly have no clue what you'd say to her if she did come back. You could try to be smooth and flirt, but that doesn't usually get you very far. Maybe you could find some common ground? You kick the ground softly because, ugh, why is this so hard? You're not even sure if she will come back. Maybe she's getting her mack on with that blonde boy.
You tell yourself to stop over thinking this, but it doesn't seem to help. You feel kind of lonely now, only making you over think more than usual.
Before you're able to do any further analysis or jump to more conclusions, there's a soft tap on your shoulder. You smile softly to yourself before looking up to find the blonde standing in front of you again with a bright smile on her face. You give her one equally as large. She came back.
"Sorry my friend needed help with his dating skills. He has, like, no game." She jokes. You're heart does a little jump when she said friend. It's not a positive sign that she's single, but it's some sort of reassurance.
"It's cool, I understand." You say after a light chuckle. You decide to at least try to play it smooth.
"My name's Brittany, by the way." She held out her hand, bouncing slightly at the balls of her feet adorably.
You contemplate on using one of your pick up lines, but decide it's be better if you didn't. You don't want to chase her away. "I'm Santana."
You take her hand in your own and shake it twice. Just before you let go, there was a sharp shock that made you jump slightly and look down to your hand before you look back up at Brittany who seems to be looking at you the same way you're looking at her. It felt like static electricity, and that's what you convinced yourself it to be.
"Santana." She states, and you swear you die a little inside-in a good way, of course. The way it rolled off of her tongue, as if she was meant to say it, sounded amazing. "It's pretty; it suits you."
"Well, Brittany," You see her lips quirk up a bit higher when you say her name, and you begin to think you might have the same effect on her. "I, uh, think your name very much suits you. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl." You say as smoothly as you possibly could, but even then it came out with a series of stutters.
"Thank you." You're sure she blushed this time. She smiles softly at you and you just nod your head awkwardly. "What are you doing here all alone?" She asked, deciding to bring up the conversation first.
"My friend brought me here and then ditched me to make out with boyfriend." You look past her to the two figures making out on the counter of the kitchen and glare at them both. She turns in her place and follows your line of sight. She giggles a soft, angelic, giggle that brings you out of your death stare.
"Well, now you have me for company." She announces a brightly. You smile brightly at her in return, trying to calm your excited heart and your stomach that seemed to think it was in the circus as it did all of these acrobatic flips.
"I guess I do." You reply, not quite sure what to say in return so you just confirm the statement. "How about you? Surely a pretty little thing like you would have a," You hesitate here, not wanting to offend the girl. "Boyfriend to come with you here." You finally decide on.
"I'm very much single and. . ." She hesitates on continuing as if the answer might affect your opinion on her. "Boys aren't necessarily my cup of tea." She explains, looking down at the end of the sentence, seemingly afraid of your reaction to the newfound piece of information.
You can tell based off of how timid and unsure of herself she was, that she was straight out of the cramped, flannel closet.
"Hey," You rest your hand on her shoulder and when she still doesn't look up, you gently tap her cheek with your index finger. She looks up at you, the shyness making a comeback. "Boys aren't exactly my cup of tea either." You add a small wink at the end, just to make her giggle, which she did. You weren't really quite sure what normal people do when comforting others, so you just went with that.
"Good to know that I'm not alone on that boat." She tells you as you drag your hand off of her shoulder.
"It can feel like that after recently coming out, but you're never alone." You assure her.
"How do you know I recently came out?" She smirks at you, knowing you've been observing her far more than you would most people.
"You're very unsure of yourself. I was just like that when I came out."
"When did you come out?" She asks you, looking just genuinely curious. If it were somebody else you probably would've told them to mind their own damn business.
"Freshman year during high school." You inform her and you could practically see her curiosity growing.
"What happened?"
"People start to catch on when you refuse to sleep with any of the boys at school. They would start to call me all of these mean and accusatory names and I would always deny it, until one day I just. . . Stopped." You retell. "How about you, what's you coming out story?"
"It's not really much of a story. I just realized I wasn't as happy when in the company of boys." She shrugs and you only nod awkwardly, not sure what to say next. There was a slightly awkward silence as you wrack your brain for some sort of topic to talk about. You take another sip of your beer, something you do to occupy yourself in situations like these.
"Do you-"
"What's your-" You both start at the same time before letting out a light laugh.
"Sorry, go ahead." You tell her.
"Do you want me to go get you another drink?" She gestures to your cup. You look down into it and realize it's all empty. You don't remember drinking that much and that kind of worries you. You look back up and shake your head.
"No, I should probably stop anyways." You lean over to the left to toss the cup into the trash can across the room. You barely make it. You throw your hands up in the air and make a victorious "Woohoo!" That gets Brittany to giggle.
"Well, LeBron, what was it you wanted to ask me?" She asks.
"Ah, right. What's your favorite song?" You ask. You figure you might as well get to know the blonde.
She takes a minute to think over the question. Her brows furrow and her tongue sticks our of the aside of her mouth in concentration. You think it's one of the most adorable things you've ever seen, and that includes that video you saw the other day of that baby panda sneezing. "Hey Jude by The Beatles." She states confidently, but you don't comprehend what she's saying. You're too busy staring at her to realize her lips were moving. You're pulled out of your trance by a hand waving in front of your face. You flush a deep crimson and bring both of your hands up to cover your face.
"I was starling, wasn't I?" You groan out through your hands. You part your fingers just enough to see Brittany laughing and nodding her head. You groan. "I'm sorry."You shut the fingers that were giving you a viewing opportunity closed so you can't see her anymore.
You feel her hands grasp your forearms and they pull your hands from your face. Her laughing has subsided by now, but the smile she had on right now could blind you. "It's okay." She giggles. "It was worth it to see you all flustered." She teases.
"Could you repeat what you said?" You ask her, looking up at her through thick lashes.
"Hey Jude by The Beatles is my favorite song." She restates with a smile. You're impressed; everyone here seems as if they don't even know who the Beatles are.
"Hey Jude." You softly. She beams at you.
"Don't be afraid. Take a sad song and make it better." She quietly joins you on the next line and you both share a large smile.
"I kind of thought that everyone here had no idea who The Beatles are, let alone the lyrics to the song." She admits. "How about you; what's your favorite song?"
You take a moment to think before replying "Piano Man by Billy Joel."
"Really? I love that song"
"I guess we're just a bunch of oldies then." She nods in agreement with a soft smile.
"Heeeeeeeeyyy seeeexyy laaaaaddyyy!" A drunken Puck greets as he slings an arm around you.
"Hello to you too, Puck. Where's Quinn?" You ask as you pat his back.
"The bathroom or something." He shrugs before eyeing Brittany. "And who is this lovely lady?" You cringe at the smell of alcohol in his breath.
"She's out of bounds Puck, not to mention out of your league." You inform him sternly.
"D'awwwww, does Sanny have a little crush on the hot blonde?" Puck teases. You feel your cheeks heat up.
"QUINN!" You yell and seconds later a short haired blonde appears by your side. You hope she'll take care of drunk Puck.
"What can I do for you?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet voice. You know she's an angry drunk, so this may not end well for you.
"Control yo' man." You command in your ghetto accent.
"What the fuck do you expect me to do, Satan!? You want me to just dump his ass?! Not everything can go your way, bitch! Just 'cause you've got your self a little crush does NOT mean that you can go around asking people to dump their sign'f'cant others, biiiitcchh!" She screams at you. That was uncalled for.
"I'll be right back." You tell Brittany who seems rather confused and taken aback by the situation.
You grab Puck and Quinn by the ear and lead them to the kitchen. Puck let's out repetitive "Ow"s throughout the journey, whereas Quinn was hissing threats that you knew would never be delivered.
"Behave!" You command them both and they look down like kicked puppy dogs. You walk away and back to Brittany who was still patiently waiting for you near the wall.
"Sorry about them; they can be a little much when their drunk." You apologize, and she grins a grin that would put the Cheshire Cat to shame.
"A little crush, huh?" She nudges her shoulder against yours.
"Pshhhtt, noooo." You deny, but really, who are you fooling? Her grin seems to widen.
"You totally have a crush on me!" She points an accusing finger at you.
"N-no, I do not!" You insist, but she's not having it.
"Yeah you do."
"Do not." You cross your arms over your chest in defense.
"Do too."
"Do not!"
"Do too!"
"Okay fine!" You raise your hands up in the air as if you had been caught. "I might have a tiny, little crush on you." You admit shyly.
"Ha! I knew it!" She smirks down at you.
"Hey, you would have a crush on you too, if you were me." You warn her seriously, as if it really will happen. She let's out a giggle.
"Well, you are much smoother than I expected somebody wearing glasses and a Star Wars Death Star T-shirt to be." She pushes your glasses further up your nose before you have a chance to. Your eyes widen slightly.
"You know that this is the Death Star?" You ask on awe. No girl you've ever known has been able to recognize it without you pointing it out.
"What kind of person would I be if I didn't know what it is?" She raises a hand to her chest, feigning hurt and your face becomes serious.
"Marry me." You say, only half joking. You state at each other for a few moments before bursting out into a fit of giggles.
When you two finally calm down she begins to speak again. "If it has helps, I think I might have a little cru-"
"TEN!" some guy screams and the whole room begins to get excited. You look around, confused, when you finally realize that the channel the Ball Drop is on has commenced the countdown.
"NINE!" The room chants.
"What were you saying?" You ask, desperate to know how the sentence ends.
"EIGHT!"
"I really, really li-"
"SEVEN!"
"I have a cru-"
"SIX!" She looks pretty irritated right now, and you only give her questioning looks, which probably isn't helping.
"I think I ha-"
"FIVE!"
She huffs in frustration.
"FOUR!"
"Ihaveacrushonyoutoo!" She breathes out in one sentence, but you couldn't make out the message she was trying to send.
"THREE!"
"What?" You ask her and her brows furrow.
"TWO!"
She let's out a groan.
"ONE!" Everyone shouts followed by a bunch of cheering and the exchanging of Happy New Years'. The sound of people kissing throughout the room also fills your ears.
"Just kiss me." She places her hands on either side of your face and leaning in before you can react in any way. It takes a minute for you to kiss back, but once you do, you're sure you see fireworks. You wrap your arms around her neck and lean up more, tilting your head slightly in the process, to deepen the kiss.
Soon enough (much too soon for your taste) she's pulling away. When she does she looks down at you with a soft smile that slowly transforms into a face-splitting grin, and you're pretty sure you're mirroring it.
She suddenly becomes shy and looks down at the floor. You take her chin between your thumb and forefinger before lifting her head up slightly, just enough for her to make eye contact with you. You give her a questioning look.
"Can I, maybe, have your, um, number? You don't have to, I mean why would you wan-" you silence her with a kiss that you have to lean up on your toes to deliver, but it's worth it.
"Of course you can have my number." You tell her and another smile breaks out onto her face. "Now kiss me, you fool!" You say in a voice that you tried to make as similar to that of an early 1900s film star.
She wraps her arms around your waist and you wrap yours around her neck.
"Who would I be to refuse such an offer?" She asks in a British accent, through her smile.
"You would be somebody unworthy of my crushes and kisses!" You continue in the voice from earlier, adding a slight British accent to it.
"I would hate to be that person." She states and you have to try and hold back a grin as you lean in closer to her lips, until they were mere centimetres apart.
"I'm sure you would." You reply, your eyes bouncing from her eyes to her lips.
"You know I would." Her voice breaks character and you can't help the soft smile that overcomes your face.
"Too much talking, not enough kissing." You mumble as you close the distance between you two.
A/N: And they got married and had gorgeous and ridiculously talented lady babies! The end. A quick reminder that I post one shots every Thursday to remind you guys that Brittana is endgame. If you'd like, hit me up on my Tumblr, that is always an option that makes me happy.
~ J :3