Okay, oh my god, this was definitely not meant to be this long. I basically had a bath the other day and this song called Building Bridges came on shuffle. It's this song by a local artist near me (Jason Clarke) and when I got out the bath and opened my laptop, this spilled out.
I had no idea where it was going and I wish I had more time to work something better out but I literally wrote what came to mind.
Remember my Tumblr is .com!
This has definitely not been beta'd so any mistakes are mine.
Enjoy x
You'll always remember her.
The way she looked the first time you met. Her hair all damp and her body soaked with that rose scented soap you will never use again. Her lips so perfectly pouty and her eyes the deepest shade of black you'd ever seen shaped in a constant smirk through the corners of their loneliness.
You'll never forget that smirk.
When she uttered her first words to you - except she didn't 'utter' - She breathed them, like they were a melody of notes and she was making music. They escaped her lips like velvet, and they made the air around her glow with the sexiest shade of seduction.
The first time you understood what desire really was.
You'd never wanted to rip anyone's clothes off until the moment you saw her and it simultaneously sucked and rocked because she wasn't even wearing any for you to rip off.
She was just there. Naked and soaking and everything you'll ever want for the rest of your life.
Everything you'll always come back to.
...
You had been sent to this school by your dad after your mom passed away. He'd told you he couldn't stand to look at you because you looked "so much like her."
He'd chosen England because he couldn't afford the flight over to get you back. He was just about managing the public school fees.
So when you arrived in the rainy country and drove up that unfamiliar drive to what would so very quickly become the most familiar, you'd sat on your bed in the room you were sharing with three other girls and simply cried.
You'd never cried so much in your whole entire life. No one, especially not your own daddy, had ever sent you away like that. Never pushed you, never hurt you, never not wanted you.
Never not wanted you.
You felt like an orphan.
You were sharing a room with the head girl. She was so much a perfect head girl that she turned down the opportunity to have her own room in favour of staying with her friends. Upon meeting her for the first time, you were 99.9% sure that was a complete lie.
"Quinn Fabray," She introduced, sticking her long pale arm out to me and smiling a perfect smile.
"Brittany Peirce," You replied, shaking her hand hesitantly. You tucked a loose strand of hair coming from your loose pony behind your ear.
"You'll have to tie your hair back tighter than that." She told you, placing her hands on her hips and looking you up and down.
You decided that Quinn Fabray, however beautiful and however smart, was once upon a time, an absolute bitch.
"Sure," You said, turning away and concentrating really hard on your unpacked suitcase.
"You want some help with that?"
That was Rachel Berry.
Rachel Berry was smart, helpful, smiley and a first rate self-obsessed junkie.
"I am excellent at coordinating one's closet to look outstandingly perfect for evening check, in which Matron expects all rooms and ranks them in order of tidiest, most respectful and most organised." She looked at you with the biggest smile you had ever seen. "We have the perfect record."
"Yeah, and only because you force us to spend our free hour before bed tidying everything that is already spotless, so your teacher lickin' ass can get kissed more times than Kim Kardashian's in her viral sex tape."
And that was Mercedes Jones. Loud, bubbly and completely 100% American.
"Oh my God," You muttered, feeling your heart slow its pace from eighty to thirty-two.
"It's nice to have a fellow homie round here." She smiled, pouncing your shoulder with her fist.
"Yeah," You breathed, because you'd never been more relived in your life.
...
Your first dinner consisted of getting threatened by a younger kid, Sugar Motta, to never tell any of the teachers about their secret midnight feasts. Tina Cohen-Chang made you swear on President Obama's life that you would never steal her boyfriend from the boy's school across the street. And a girl in the same year as you, Kitty, (she didn't tell you her second name. Nor did the others), cornered you by the mushy peas and warned you if you ever took her place as Captain of the Lacrosse team, she would cut each of your boobs off with a pair of blunt scissors and sell them on eBay for the price of Britney Spears' shaved hair.
You decided pretty soon that McKinley School for Girls was not a friendly place.
You managed to co-exist with your roommates. Rachel Berry was particularly harder than the other two but eventually, you got into a routine that made her seem only slightly tolerable.
However much you disliked Quinn Fabray's attitude, you soon fell into an easy friendship with her. She'd pick you up from the classes you didn't have together and she'd introduce you to all the teachers you passed in the hallways. You walked together across the lacrosse and the hockey pitches and she even began teaching you how to play. She showed you the stables and informed you of whose pony belonged to whom.
Sugar seemed to have more than anyone else.
It was about a month and a half in when you decided McKinley wasn't nearly as bad as you thought it would be. It was also about a month and a half in when you took your first step, albeit accidentally, into the web of a crisis you would never fully be able to escape.
...
One morning, as you and Quinn were passing a hockey ball between the two of you on the one of the empty pitches, you heard giggles coming from the other side of the bush. But they weren't cheeky or friendly giggles. They were mean.
Quinn had given you a look that said stay there and had wondered off to see what was going on. When she didn't return for five minutes, you'd followed her and that was truly when everything started changing for you.
Kitty and a couple of her friends were sauntering off in the distance, still giggling those giggles you'd heard only minutes ago. Sat behind the bush was a young brunette girl, her head in her hands and her body curled tightly in Quinn's.
They heard the rustle of the autumn leaves beneath you.
"Brittany, would you mind going to fetch Miss Pillsbury for me please?" Quinn asked.
You went to turn around but the young girl's voice stopped you.
"No, Quinn, I don't want her to see me like this, it's not fair!"
You heard Quinn sigh and turned back around.
"Okay, but can we at least walk you back to class?" Quinn took the young girl's arm as she nodded and you were silent the whole way.
...
Your grey and blue uniform felt scratchy as you sat next to Quinn and Mercedes at your Christmas assembly. Most of the girls were leaving for home but you couldn't afford the flight.
Neither could your dad.
There were only 8 girls out of 312 staying at McKinley over the holidays. You were the only one in your year. The rest of them were girls in the year below you staying behind to study for their GCSE's. There was also the young girl you'd met with Quinn the other day who was staying behind. But she spent most of her time in Miss Pillsbury's office and so you didn't think you'd see her anyway.
As the girls were leaving and you were hugging each of them good bye, Quinn whispered in your ear, "Keep an eye out on Marley for me, please."
You didn't have to ask who she meant; you knew straight away.
You nodded absentmindedly and faked a smile as you watched their bus depart for the train station.
...
The first time you'd seen Marley since the day everyone left was a rainy Wednesday morning. She was stood in the art room flicking paint at a large canvas halfway across the room. She noticed you staring and asked if you wanted to join in.
"So, you're Quinn's friend?" She asked, flicking a particularly giant splodge onto the dripping canvas.
"Something like that."
"Quinn's really cool." Marley said, bending down to retrieve more paint. "I sometimes wish she was my sister."
...
It snowed on the Saturday and the GCSE girls came out to join you and Marley having a snow fight on the front lawn. It was dark by the time you stumbled back inside, giggling about how you'd smashed one of them in the face and how Marley had fallen flat on her ass when she tried to smash one in yours.
She'd thanked you for a great game, shook your hand and whispered how glad she was to be away from everything.
It felt weird preparing for a bath without your roommates. Usually, you all went together and had bubble fights from your separate tubs, ending with Rachel complaining her facemask would come off if it got any more violent.
Quinn mostly always won.
This time, it was just you and you kind of liked that you didn't have to pull the curtain around you just so you could get in.
Except when you got there and you started taking off your woollen jumper, the soft sound of moving water gently splashing against the side of a soapy tub stopped you from going any further.
And that was when it happened.
You saw her knees first as she brought them up to balance her weight. Then you saw the tip of her nose, the line of her lips and the sharp curve of her jaw line as she opened her mouth and brought her hands to her face to wipe away the stray suds from her eyes.
She didn't look at you for a while and you knew this because the peaks of her nipples were making an appearance every time she breathed in and it's all you were looking at.
But when she did, you swear it was like being punched right in the stomach. It wasn't that she took your breath away. It was that she didn't. You wanted her to because then you wouldn't be stumbling on all the things you wanted to say. But there she was, looking at you with those deep black eyes, and you felt your lower abdomen cling to your insides for support.
Nothing or no one had ever turned you on with just one look. It was like she had simply switched a button and there you were, staring and drooling like you'd never seen a woman's naked body before.
It didn't scare you quite so much as perhaps it should have done that she was a girl. She was looking at you and it made you forget everything.
Even that you just got turned on by a girl.
She smirked at you then and didn't even say a word as she lifted her razor blade from the side of the bath and brought her leg out to rest beside it.
Even from where you were standing, you could tell they hadn't been touched in a really long time.
"You ever seen legs like these?"
Those were her first words to you.
You didn't even register what she said, you were so busy inhaling the sweet scent of the rose and jasmine soap she was using.
She giggled. "I guess you haven't."
You continued watching her as she massaged the soap into her leg, rubbing and rubbing until it foamed and stuck to her long slender fingers.
"Nobody ever sees them anymore," She breathed, smiling and smirking as she pulled the razor right through the middle of the foam. "It's the middle of winter and I barely wear anything less than three pairs of tights, so why should I bother, hey?"
She finished on her right leg and then proceeded to foam up her left. She was silent as she did so, apart from the soft rhythmic flow of her velvety breathing. You could probably sleep to the sound of her breathing if you would ever be able to look away from her body.
"You're not really meant to be here," She smirked, dipping her leg back into the water and rinsing off all the soap.
You frowned.
"Most people try and avoid this time because they know it's when Crazy has her bath."
She looked up at you then, smirking that smirk and smiling that smile.
"Because of the hairy legs?" You asked, because her eyes were kinda making you forget everything again.
She giggled. Loud and clear and just like chocolate. It was gorgeous. "Because of the hairy legs,"
And then she was under the water, pulling her hair back and raising her hips as she again tried to balance herself. It was only then that you realised perhaps she was wondering how weird you must be to stand and watch her bathing like a pervert.
You're about to move when she pulls herself back up and wipes her eyes of suds again. You can't help but look at the way her boobs move with her and how the droplets of bath water slide easily down them and off the tips of her stiffened nipples.
It's beautiful.
"I like to bath at this time because no one bothers me." She breathed again, rubbing shampoo into the knots of her long raven hair.
You looked at your watch and realised it was later than your usual bathing time.
"I can come back?" You suggested pointing with your thumb to the door behind you.
"Please don't."
She's under the water before you have a chance to question her.
And you just can't deny that she's beautiful. That she's everything anyone would want in a girl. Her boobs are so perfectly rounded, pointing upwards with every arch of her back as she rinses the shampoo off her hair. The edges of her ribs jut elegantly in a diamond right along the sides of her chest down towards her abdomen. The diamond was completed by the indentations of her lower stomach muscles as they shaped into a 'V' right down to where you'd been trying to avoid looking. But now that you could see, you couldn't take your eyes away from her. You found yourself inwardly cursing every time the bath water would run over her and block your view.
When she resurfaced, the dips in her collarbone extended and you found yourself wanting to know what it felt like to run your fingers through them and up to her jaw, until you found her lips and traced them with your own.
You'd never had these kinds of thoughts or feelings ever in your life.
Especially for a girl.
She turned to you then and flashed you a smile so big, you wonder why she likes to be alone.
"Is this a good look?" She asked, pushing her chest out and putting on a seductive look.
You wanted to tell her that she doesn't need to put one on, she's already as seductive as they come. But the way the water is trailing down the sides of her ribs and down the middle of her boobs, you can't help but smile back and whisper a breathy, "Yeah."
She started rubbing conditioner in her hair then, pulling it to the side and running her fingers right through. Before she leant back to rinse it off, she asked, "Could you get this for me?"
It took you a while to figure out what she meant but when she bit her lower lip and smirked at you, you're over there before she had a chance to giggle at your hesitancy.
You dropped your stuff awkwardly in the bath tub next to hers and perched on the side right by her head. You gasped at the way she looked from this view and she heard you, so she took your hands in hers and placed them on her head. She lowered herself then, right under the water, and you had to bend a little to wash the conditioner out. She had a permanent grin on her pretty little face and it was all you could do not to bend down and kiss her hard.
Really, really, fucking hard.
She bit her lip when you rubbed a little harder on her scalp and when you trailed your hands through her wet locks to rinse them of any conditioner, the corners of her eyebrows furrowed slightly and you'd never felt more empowered than that moment. That moment when she bit her lip and creased her eyebrows.
Uh...
And that was when you remembered.
You stood up so quickly, the girl nearly choked on the water. You felt yourself scowling at no one in particular – probably meant for you – and you heard her clattering behind you.
You thought she'd make some dumb comment about how you were leaving already, or what had made you jump up so fast. But instead, she voices, quite chirpily in her solid British accent, "What do you think?"
You couldn't help but turn around and you wish that you hadn't.
She stood, bath water dripping down absolutely every inch of her olive-skinned body, bubbles caught up in the crook of her collarbone and the jutted hitch of her hip bone. She had both her hands on her hips, the tail of her long raven hair falling elegantly down the left side of her shoulders, almost like she was a mermaid emerging from the ocean that surrounds Neverland.
"What's your name?" You surprised yourself by asking.
Her eyes popped out for all of two seconds before she settled into herself and grinned at you like she'd been waiting for you to ask that. "You really wanna know?"
You nod your head, "Yeah."
She looked to the floor and then stepped out of the bath, so slowly and so gracefully, it was like she'd barely moved at all. Then she looked up at you and you could have sworn you could see her whole story in that look.
Except the words were blurred.
"My name is Santana."
You blinked fairly rapidly, having been distracted by the burn marks around her ankles.
But then you smiled because her name was beautiful.
"I'm Brittany."
"Brittany," She repeated, as if she was testing the word out on her tongue. You could see her rolling your name around in her mouth, looking up at the ceiling and mouthing it over and over and over again.
"What's so fascina-"
"It's beautiful."
You looked at her like she was golden. Like she was one of those Neverland Mermaids but was shining like she'd swallowed the sun and the moon both at the same time. You had to glance to the floor quickly before you looked back up and smiled.
"So is yours."
She slanted her head to the side and smiled sadly, as if she'd heard that before. She licked her lips – oh her lips – before she whispered, "Thank you for your help, Brittany," and smirked that signature smirk.
You'd never understand how much you'd come to adore that smirk.
Once you'd got back to your room, changed into your pyjamas and got settled under the covers with your favourite book and your torchlight, you realised you'd spent exactly thirty-seven minutes hanging out with a naked girl and washing her hair for her in the bathroom of your British boarding school at nine in the evening.
And more importantly, you'd spent exactly thirty-seven minutes never feeling more comfortable in your whole entire life.
...
The day after, Marley invited you to afternoon tea with Miss Pillsbury, who you later found out was her foster mom. Apparently her real mom, who had once been a cook at the boarding school, passed away in a car accident when she was four.
She'd lived with Miss Pillsbury at McKinley ever since.
They taught you how to make proper cucumber sandwiches and how to draw the Union Jack all in one afternoon. You giggled for a long time, and when you left Miss Pillsbury's small apartment at the back of the school, your stomach was hurting so much, you had to get one of Rachel's lavender heat pads to warm up in the microwave to hold there.
Marley found you in the evening and asked if you'd watch Peter Pan with her. At the point in which Wendy meets the mermaids, your mind drew back to the naked girl in the bath tub and for a second, you actually wondered if really she was a mermaid. But you remembered her ankles and you remembered how painful they looked, so you quickly shook that thought away.
Marley snuggles so close to your chest and you want to ask her if she knows anything about Santana, but a part of you feels like she's your little secret.
And you don't have any idea if that's a good thing or a bad one.
When the film ended, Marley wrapped her dressing gown tighter around her body and asked you if you'd walk her back home. You forgot she lived here.
On the way, you take a quick detour to the school kitchen and she grabbed a pack of Dots from the sweet cupboard.
"They're for my sister."
You hugged her goodnight before walking back to your dorm.
When you're back in your bed, you wondered not if Marley was okay but whether Santana was.
Somehow, you felt that was more important.
...
You'd been passing a hockey ball around with Marley in the snow when you saw her again. You find her lying in the bath tub once more, eyes closed and bubbles floating carelessly all over her perfect body.
She smiled and you knew she'd heard you.
You go to sit beside her and simply watch her as she lies perfectly still in the water.
You watched her until you fell asleep.
...
You'd felt kind of weird since you fell asleep on the bathroom floor. Santana hadn't been there when you woke up and so you'd kind of just sleepily slunk back to your dorm and slept for the rest of the day.
Your phone began ringing and at first you thought it was your dad but then you saw it was an unrecognised number and you frowned.
"Hey, Britt, it's Quinn!"
"Oh, hey Quinn."
"How are you?"
You listened to Quinn's soft breathing and smiled. You hadn't realised you'd been lonely.
"I'm okay thanks, how about you?"
Her giggle made you frown. "It's Christmas, I'm great,"
"Oh, okay."
Quinn's voice suddenly turned serious. "Britt, how's Marley?"
You sigh. "She's good. What's the deal with her anyway?"
Quinn sighed too. "I just like to keep an eye out for her. Like an older sister, I guess, whilst things are like they are."
"And what's that?" You realised you were being nosy but you couldn't help it.
"I can't say; it's not really my place to."
You could understand that.
"Also, Quinn...?" You asked, wondering whether you should ask about Santana. "I met someone." Quinn squeals. "In the bathroom."
Quinn stops squealing. "What?"
You stutter a little. "I was literally just going to take a bath when this girl appeared from nowhere." Quinn was silent. "Her name's Santana."
Quinn remained silent.
"What year is she in?" You questioned. "Like, I never see her."
The sound of Quinn's deathly silent breathing frightens you. "There's a reason for that, Brittany, and it's forbidden amongst everyone to talk about it."
Her stern and serious tone renders you speechless.
"I'll call you tomorrow to wish you a Merry Christmas." Quinn said. "I hope you have a nice Christmas Eve."
She'd hung up before you can even register what she'd said.
Christmas Eve? Fuck.
You heard a small knock on the door and a card slipped through the bottom. When you opened the door, you couldn't see anyone, so you shrugged and closed it again.
You opened the card.
Merry Christmas, Brittany.
Love,
Miss Pillsbury, Marley and Santana.
Santana.
...
You'd already reached the bathroom knowing she would be there when she caught you by surprise. You'd barely opened the door when you realised the curtain was actually closed around the tub she usually used.
"Santana?"
You walked across the room and lightly pulled back the curtain to reveal the same girl you were used to. You were about to ask her why she'd closed herself in, when she turned to you and you saw the rivers of mascara trailing down her face.
You weren't sure what you should really do because apart from the Christmas card, you knew nothing about Santana. She was beautiful, she was elegant and she was the most fucking sexy person you had ever met.
Ever.
And she was crying.
You dropped the Christmas card on the floor and started pulling off your dressing gown and pyjamas. She didn't say a word when your boobs bounced lightly against the soft skin over your ribcage or when you pulled your panties down to reveal everything the naked girl did to you. She didn't say a word when you stepped lightly over the tub edge and lay down directly on top of her, settling between her legs. She didn't say a word when you brought your thumb to her left eye and stroked away the sadness there.
She just cried. Silently.
You thought that was the worst kind of sad.
The first thing she said to you was, "You got our card."
You bit your lip and nodded. "I did."
She closed her eyes and nodded so small, the tear that trickled down her left cheek barely made it to your thumb.
"Santana," You whispered, because you didn't know what else to say.
Her eyes stayed closed for a really long time and you wondered if she was every going to open them again. You briefly wondered if you could be classed as a freak for lying naked on top of another girl you barely even knew, especially on school grounds.
But she didn't seem to care and that calmed you slightly.
Except when she opened her eyes, you noticed that actually she really did care. And in a really good way.
She smiled at you gratefully, and pulled you closer to her. You knew what was going to happen even before you licked your lips. You'd wanted to kiss her since the moment you first laid eyes on her.
The air around you was thick with a tension. Maybe it was of the sexual kind but you couldn't really be sure because you'd never experienced it before. It was as if it was going to suffocate you if your lips did not touch real soon.
You went to say something – anything – but she already did it.
You want to say that it was perfect, which it was, but it was so much more than that. It was weird and it was unusual and it was something you wanted more of but you didn't know why.
The first touch was fast. Not in speed but in tone. Most people would say it was like electricity or fireworks but it wasn't. It was so much more complex than that. Like a shooting star, only still. Like a million fireflies scattered in a mayonnaise jar, only there was just one. Like a mermaid from Neverland, only right at the bottom of the ocean.
It was odd.
You pulled back and frowned at Santana. She still had her eyes closed and she looked sad, but her tears had stopped and you tried reasoning with yourself that that's why you had jumped in naked with her and then proceeded to kiss her.
So with that reasoning, you pulled completely away and shakily stepped out the bath, trying desperately hard to avoid eye contact with the girl.
You walked brokenly to the window, wondering why you suddenly felt totally drained and electrified all at once. You spread your palms on the window ledge and opened the glass fully to breathe in the Christmas Eve air.
It was fucking cold.
You went to shut them again, but the feel of slippery warm arms sliding around your waist stopped you.
She didn't say a word as she pushed your long blonde hair to your right shoulder and pressed her open mouth firmly against the skin there. She just sucked and swallowed and kissed and you swear you'd never felt anything more erotic in your life. She moved her lips like velvet on silk and it was only when she reached your earlobe that you allowed yourself one single moan.
Uh...
Her hot breath against your neck made your centre tighten and twitch and you had to reach behind you to grab a fistful of her hair to steady yourself. When she bit your skin and then kissed it better, you had to grip harder and that made her mouth work harder and her fingers start trailing along your stomach muscles.
They stroked back and forth, up and down, until they both reached your boobs. She paused, her hands millimetres away from touching them, pulling her lips back slightly from your neck and flicking her tongue there. Your deep breath out told her you wanted her to touch you so she did, grabbing your boobs and massaging them like snow in her palms.
Uh...
You'd never been touched like this and it blew you away.
Her kisses pressed firmly on your shoulder blade and started moving towards the top of your spine and to your other shoulder. Her lips barely grazed your skin but you could feel every contact point like it was made of fire. She applied light pressure on your chest then, silently asking you to follow her.
The cold immediately attacked your body when she left yours to walk to the bath. Your breathing was ragged and unpredictable but you followed her nonetheless, groaning as she walked backwards. You placed both your hands on either side of her head and kissed her. Hard.
Harder than any kiss you'd ever given anybody before.
She exhaled so loudly, you thought she'd climaxed already.
It felt weird raking your hands through long hair instead of short but it seemed to make so much more sense. And the tugging, nagging, quenching voice that was coming from your centre told you why.
Her hair was wet, as was her body and when she pushed you so hard down that you both fell to the ground, you could feel every inch of her wetness all over your body. Her boobs sliding against yours and your legs tangling like it was the most natural thing for them to ever do. You gasped at how everything simply fit into its place.
It sounded like silence around you, everything but each other. The only noise you could make out was her gasping and your breathing.
They sounded beautiful together.
Your kissing got harder – harder than before – and her thigh found your centre so perfectly, your gasp turned into a full on groan. Right into her mouth. She smirked.
You don't think you'd ever groaned before.
She continued to smirk as her fingers ran up and down your sides, hr thigh pressing harder and harder. It all felt so good that you wondered how you'd never felt like this before.
When her hand cupped you right where you wanted her, you're sure you have never felt as sexy as in that moment. The way she looked at you like you were the most perfect thing made you even wetter than you were when you came out of the bath.
You were wet everywhere.
And it felt incredible.
Santana begun moving two fingers up and down your centre, smirking with every touch she made. When she circled your clit and slid her two fingers either side of it like scissors, you knew you'd never forget this moment. And then when she entered you, the only thing that popped into your mind was how no one had ever done this to you before.
She seemed to realise because her kiss gave you more reassurance than a mother's hug.
She pushed harder into you and your hips begun canting up into her hand. Into her fingers, coating them with everything you were feeling. For her. It was all for her.
You whispered a breathy, "faster," into her mouth as she kissed you deeper, sweat and bath water making you slide so perfectly against one another.
You lifted your leg subconsciously because what she was doing to you was making you do things you'd never done, and her moan that tumbled into your mouth caught you by surprise. You lifted your leg again so your thigh touched her again and it was then you realised how good you made her feel.
She was so wet. And it wasn't because of the bath water.
Your rhythm was fast and urgent and with every touch there came a moan and it vibrated right through your body and hers. Your lower abdomen started tugging again, really, really hard and you bit her lip, moving your hips faster and your thigh harder into her.
You both opened your eyes at the same time. Hers were dark with lust and you had to groan at the way they made you feel. She had sex pouring right out of them, like melted chocolate gliding across satin sheets. You wanted her so bad and so you told her.
She smirked back at you and whispered right before she curled her fingers and made that tugging feeling blow off with so many moans and kisses, "Merry Christmas, beautiful."
It was only then that you remembered the Christmas Card.
And only then that you saw the pack of Dots sat abandoned on the side of the bathroom tub.
...
"Brittany, its Rachel. If you'd like to give me a call back whenever you can, I'd be more than ecstatic to speak with you. I simply wanted to wish you a very Merry Christmas and to ask you if you received mine, Mercedes' and Quinn's presents we left for you under the common room tree? I have to go, my father's have cooked up an absolutely perfect meal. Speak soon!"
You pressed the red button on your phone and stared at it, willing there to be another one.
Just one more.
You hated feeling forgotten on Christmas Day.
...
The common room was empty, save a couple left over scarves and blazers. The Christmas tree stood alone in the far corner of the room baring only one gift. It was purple wrapped with a pink ribbon. The card simply said Merry Christmas, Britt, love The Girls. You weren't sure if you were feeling excited about it at all.
You unwrapped it slowly, not because you wanted to savour the moment, but because... Well, because you had nothing else to do.
Nothing else to do on Christmas Day.
"Um, excuse me?"
You turned round so quickly, you fell halfway off you chair. Miss Pillsbury ran over fairly hesitantly to help you up but you'd already sat back down by the time she reached you. She ran her fingers down her red and green skirt several times before looking at you quizzically. "Would you like to join us for Christmas lunch?"
You narrowed your eyebrows. Who is 'we'?
"It's okay, you really don't have to, Marley and I just thought, seeing as, you know, well, you haven't got any family here and well..."
"I'd love to," You said, standing up and smiling at her.
She smiled back like she'd just won the lottery. "Awesome."
...
Marley gave you a hug when you entered Miss Pillsbury's living room. She was dressed in her weekend clothes, with a big Christmas sweater on and a hat. One thing that you later realised was Marley's signature look.
You smiled politely as she showed you all her new presents, cooing and laughing when she was really animated at something. You liked Marley, thought she was incredibly sweet, but you couldn't help but feel uncomfortable in the apartment and you didn't know why.
It was only when you reached the dinner table that it finally dawned on you.
"Four people?" You asked.
Miss Pillsbury excused herself to the kitchen and Marley looked conflicted with something.
"Let me just go get my sister."
You heard the silence so loudly when both girls left the room. But it came back in full force when you heard Marley yell up the stairs, "Santana!"
Shit.
She yelled it again. And again. But she returned to the dining room without her and you couldn't work out if you were relieved or disappointed.
Miss Pillsbury had a cooked a beautiful meal and you ate it heartily. But when she started explaining about Marley and Santana you really felt like you wanted to vomit.
"...and so I took Marley in because, well, her mother was my best friend and I couldn't see her go through what... well, what her sister went through."
The ginger woman stopped and hesitantly placed a carrot in her mouth.
Marley spoke up. "Santana's mother was a teenager when she had her so she was instantly put into foster care. Mum, here, decided to adopt her but she's real hard work. She thought adopting me would help calm her down, but San..." Marley stopped and closed her eyes. "San is just difficult."
You frowned. She definitely hadn't seemed that way last night.
"She doesn't like to leave her room very much." Marley continued. "Or rather, she's not allowed."
Miss Pillsbury looked up then. "Social care rule, not mine."
You chewed quietly on your turkey and tried to see Santana through their eyes. There were so many questions floating around in your head that you could barely remember one.
"One day, we hope they'll let Santana simply be-"
The door suddenly opened abruptly and there stood Santana, her hair unbrushed and her eyes red raw. But it wasn't because she'd been crying. It was more like she hadn't blinked in a really long time.
"San!" Marley squealed, pulling a chair out for her to sit on. But the brunette didn't move. She just stared at you.
So seductively.
You coughed and looked away but immediately looked back at her. You couldn't resist.
"I don't want a fucking Christmas dinner, Emma." Santana strained, still looking at you. Even though she was angry, and her statement took you by surprise, she was still wearing that beautiful smirk.
"Well, Marley's friend, Brittany decided to join us, so I thought it would be nice." Miss Pillsbury tried to reason with the brunette.
Santana's face hardened. "She's not Marley's friend."
Miss Pillsbury and Marley frowned.
"She's mine."
Marley looked at you then. "You two have met?"
You gulped. You didn't want this. Not now. Especially not on Christmas Day.
"Have you been telling her all about me?" Santana suddenly said, a sly smile painted over her dancing face. "Aaaall about how I'm a fucking crazy bitch who has to have injections to calm herself down, otherwise she goes all Buffy the Vampire Slayer on her foster mum's ass?"
Miss Pillsbury went to interrupt her but Santana carried on. "Have you told her that I have to sleep with chains around my ankles, otherwise I might run off and never return?" She looked at you then, her smirk more present than ever. "Or how I manage to sneak to the Upper Sixth's bathroom and fuck mysterious new blonde girls in the middle of the night?"
Fuck.
Marley looked at you so incredulously that you stood up so fast you nearly fainted.
Santana watched you as you ran out the apartment, certain that you would be expelled and you'd have nowhere to go and you'd be stuck in England on streets that you don't know, begging for money by doing nothing because you had no fucking talent at all.
All because of some stupid girl and some stupid mistake you made.
So much for letting yourself go.
You walked into the bitter cold, the snow seeping into your Ugg boots and making you even angrier. How fucking dare she? The wind is cold too and you wish more than anything that you bought the knitted scarf the girls gave you so that you wouldn't feel so used and so empty.
But you heard her nonetheless and it made you stop.
"Brittany, wait!"
You didn't turn around; you just wrapped your jumper further around you.
She reached you and you on to her before she can even speak.
"Santana, I barely know you, I barely know your family and you came out with what we did last night just like that?" You turned to face her. "Do you realise what's gonna happen now?"
"Yes," She said, like she didn't even care at all that you'd be on the streets begging for money. "I'm gonna follow you wherever you go next."
"What?"
"You get kicked out, I get kicked out too." She smirked. "I don't wanna be stuck here all my life. You've seen my ankles..." She looked like she was about to cry so you lean forward and pull her towards you.
"I'm mental." She stated, fully seriously. "I'm ill and I can't do anything about it other than be ill."
You hold her tighter.
"Being in that fucking apartment kills me every second I'm in there. I feel dead whenever I'm there and yeah, I might be a little crazy, but I don't need chains and cuffs when I sleep. I'll only leave the school grounds if I want to kill myself, and even then, sometimes I won't." Your eyes bugged out their sockets then and you squeezed her closer to you. "Emma has done so much for me and little Marley, I love her to pieces." She paused and licked her lips. "But being with you, in the bathroom, and finding myself not giving a damn what you saw or what you thought... it made me feel alive for the first time in my life."
She looked down and then leaned in, resting her head on your chest. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "I just want everyone to know that I found someone who made me feel alive."
You kissed the top of her head and let your lips linger there for longer than ten minutes.
"Emma won't tell anyone." Santana said, leaning back and looking into your eyes. "She keeps everything about me quiet. So does Marley. They're amazing." She sniffed and it broke your heart. "I know we barely know each other but right now, you're stopping me from running through these grounds and screaming at the top of my lungs just to feel something." She grinned and then smirked and it made you giggle. "Cause I'm already feeling you."
Your face turned serious then and you whispered, "Well, why can't we?"
"What?"
"Run away with me."
"What?"
"Run away with me," You repeated. "Run with me through these grounds screaming at the top of our lungs. Maybe we can feel more than just each other."
Santana grinned so wide and it was then that you knew it was your job to make her smile like that every day.
"You ready?" She asked, gripping your hand.
"Let's go."
...
Santana had an 'episode' as Marley called it the night before everyone returned from Christmas holidays. She screamed at you and told you that she hated you and that she was going to chew off her chains with her bare teeth just to show you how much.
You told the nurse to back off when she told Santana to behave. You told the doctor to leave when he moved towards her with a needle. You asked Marley to get you a packet of Dots from the kitchen sweet cupboard.
And you sat with Santana, pressing your lips to her hair before gently unlocking the chains and pulling her closer to you, calming her whimpering with you kisses.
...
Santana had another episode the week before you were meant to break up for summer. She told Quinn she was a fucking skank and slapped her so hard, she bled. She was confined to her room and chained to her bed by her wrists as well as her ankles.
You locked the door to her room however much the brunette yelled at you and you kissed her hair until she let you unchain her. Then you lifted her like a princess to the school grounds and you told her to run.
She did.
She came home when she realised that she missed you.
...
And now, Santana's lying in your arms in your house in Tennessee. She has her arms wrapped tightly around your waist because she just calmed down from her first episode in four years. You have large grounds on the farm you bought with the money your father saved whilst you were at school, which Santana screams through whenever she feels like it. You have horses, several of which she's bonded with and spends forever with when she runs to her angry place. You also have a dog. A Dalmatian. Her name is Dots and Marley bought her for you as a moving to America present.
Marley likes to visit a lot because of Dots.
And you're trailing your fingers up and down Santana's hands because sometimes angry sex can be fun and sometimes it calms the brunette down more so than anything else.
Sometimes the way she thrusts her fingers so hard into you against the stable door makes the anger drain from her face and sometimes the way she bites down on your lip so hard it almost bleeds makes you feel better because you're taking away some of her pain.
Sometimes just letting Santana have her angry way with you, makes you feel more loved than any other time you are intimate.
She's naked and her sweaty chest rises and falls against yours.
"Baby?" You whisper into her raven locks.
She murmurs back at you.
"Marry me?"
You feel her velvet smirk against your neck and when she murmurs back, moves to your neck and starts kissing you there like the first time she ever kissed you, you know this is where you're meant to be.
Loving a girl until the mermaids leave Neverland.
Congratulations for reading this. Thank you so much. Poppy x