A/N: Brittana Week Day 7 – AU
Just a cutesy one-shot in an AU setting :) Although, perhaps slightly creepy, depending on how you look at it ;)
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee :(
Perfection
My best friend will tell you that I have an unhealthy obsession. I politely disagree. She will argue that no sane person goes to gym solely to stare at a girl. I will correct her, amending 'a girl' to 'the most beautiful and perfect specimen of the female form'. But, you know, I'm not obsessed.
I'm not!
Okay, so perhaps a previously exercise-phobic software developer from Ohio, who only joined the gym after stumbling – literally – when she saw the aforementioned most beautiful person in the world stepping out of the gym's entrance, may have ulterior motives.
"Santana, seriously. It's unhealthy. And creepy."
"That cheeseburger is unhealthy and creepy. Those gherkins are giving me the stink eye," I deadpan.
"You're such a weirdo," Quinn says, shaking her head and taking another massive bite of her burger.
I pull a face. I hate fast food. It just doesn't agree with me at all. I get terrible nausea and generally feel like crap for even having a bite. Except for Thai food. I love Thai food. It's like, the only fast food-type shit I can eat.
You'd think that eating relatively healthy would mean I don't have to go to gym, right? Well, kinda. I mean, I have a pretty good body type. I'm not sexy or anything, not by any stretch of the imagination. But I guess I'm okay-looking. Quinn bitches at me all the time for hiding my body.
Women's bodies are meant to be admired, Santana, she says to me. Why would you cover that up? Especially those amazing boobs. Seriously, you should never cover those up.
Geez, and she says I'm creepy. Nothing says creepy like my sister from another mister commenting on my breasts.
"Why don't you join me and Rachel for our dinner party tomorrow night? We have a lot of single women that attend and maybe you'll meet someone?" she suggests, licking her fingers noisily.
Uncultured. How neat freak Rachel Berry lives with this woman is beyond me.
But that's love.
"Quinn, what on God's green earth would possess me to pretend to listen to a bunch of pretentious women trying to impress me when I have no interest in them?"
She stares at me and I swallow nervously. That had come out really mean.
"I d-didn't mean it like that. I just...when people try to impress you, they kinda behave like peacocks, you know?"
"I know I never thought I'd hear you say cocks," she mumbles.
"Ew. You know I didn't."
"So you think my friends are pretentious?" she asks, glaring at me.
"No! I didn't say that! I mean, I did, but that's not what I meant. I swear, Quinn, I'm not mean like that. It's just...it's pointless. If I go, all I'm going to be doing is thinking about her and comparing her to every single woman there. And when they pale in comparison, I'm going to be bored."
I shrug apologetically. It's the truth, though.
"I repeat, it's unhealthy and creepy."
I smile. "But how could you argue with perfection?"
"Santana, you've never even spoken to this girl and you've been stalking her at the gym for almost two months. Do you even use the machines?"
"Yes!" I protest. "I go on the treadmill and the elliptical and those arm things."
"And what does she use?"
"The treadmill...and the elliptical...and the arm things. Okay, but so what? Most people use those things."
"You are so hopeless."
I am aware. And even if she never speaks to me (which won't happen), I'm happy to continue admiring her perfection from afar.
My alarm wakes me up the following morning at seven am. I jump out of bed and go about my quick morning routine. Quinn can't understand how I'm such a morning person. There's just something about the crisp fresh air. My favourite is after we've had a night of rain. Everything just feels so clean.
In New York, that's quite an accomplishment.
I dress in my workout clothes and walk the three blocks to the gym. I love being my own boss. I can work whatever hours I want to and most importantly, I get to go to gym when most people are heading out to go to work.
I walk through the front doors and smile politely at the guy who mans the desk at the front.
"Morning, Santana," he greets cheerfully.
"Morning, Blaine," I reply. He's a sweet guy.
"You should check out our new spinning classes. We have a new instructor. She's really good."
I nod thoughtfully. Spinning always looks really intense so I'll probably give it a miss, but Blaine's always giving me hints about trying new things.
"Of course, you definitely don't look like you need to work on your buns."
I look at him blankly. "My buns?"
"Yeah." He grins.
"Right." I scan myself in and head towards the locker room. I deposit my bag into my locker and grab my towel, water and iPod. I lock the door and take a deep breath, catching my reflection in one of the many mirrors around. It's like gyms want you to stare at yourself as much as possible so that you can pick out all the imperfections and never even think about cancelling your membership. I roll my eyes and put my earphones in, turning on my gym mix.
As much as Quinn may think that I'm here purely for the object of my affections, I actually enjoy the two hours of escape. I can listen to my music without complaints from my neighbours – classical music played at loud volumes is apparently quite annoying – and I build up a bit of a sweat. The first three weeks after joining were painful to say the very least. I have a very good motivator, though.
Speaking of...
I walk onto the floor where rows of treadmills are set up and my eyes immediately find her. She's running in sync with her Asian friend again. I've noticed she joins the object of my observations every Monday, Tuesday and Thursday. Wednesdays and Fridays she's by herself. I kind of like it when her friend is with her because I get to watch her laugh and chat and be so adorably animated.
My music remains on for the duration of my time at the gym. If I ever had to hear her voice, I think I may spontaneously combust because it's bound to be as graceful and perfect as she is. So I play it safe and just let my eyes create the perfect image in my mind.
And what an image. Allow me to paint a picture...
She's taller than me, by a few inches. If we ever stand next to each other – which will never happen in real life – I know I will have to angle my head up slightly to look into the bluest eyes I have ever seen in my life. And I've seen a lot of eyes in my twenty-seven years of life. They are endless. They sparkle when she smiles and I almost feel like they're dancing. I've never seen them change shades, but I know they probably do. I've only ever seen them as the most beautiful crystal clear blue, like the colour of the sky on the most perfect summer's day.
They're shaped like a cat, which I find fascinating. I find myself wondering what they would look like with smoky make up and a Catwoman catsuit.
Yeah...I'm so hopelessly head over heels. No one has ever entered my Catwoman fantasy until I saw her. She just effortlessly morphed into this vision of oozing sexiness, all clad in leather, a cat mask covering the top part of her face, her eyes done up all smoky and those piercing blue eyes capturing my very soul.
I sigh and start out at a slow jog, slowly picking up the pace as I get into a rhythm. I feel my braided hair hitting my bare back as I pick up the pace. My eyes are subtly taking in every moment she makes. I see her starting to slow her jog down, but I continue at the same pace. I have this down to a fine art by now. I know that she comes in about twenty minutes before I do and her first stop is the treadmill. She spends about half an hour to forty minutes – the latter is more popular when she's with her friend – and then she heads for the elliptical. Luckily, they're positioned right next to the treadmills, so my viewing pleasure is not disrupted.
My breathing is growing a little laboured and I take a swig of water, angling the treadmill up slightly to give myself a challenge. Quinn can suck it. I do come to the gym to actually exercise.
Which is kind of weird because all through school and even before that, I was the most non-exercising person ever. Actually, right up until two months ago, I was virtually a hermit. Still kinda am, but I have gym now. Improvement!
After a satisfying twenty minutes on the treadmill, I slow things down before stepping off the machine, shaking my slightly wobbly legs and heading for the elliptical, draining my water bottle as I do. I stop off to fill it up and I turn, almost colliding with someone.
My eyes widen in apology. It's her friend. She offers me a friendly smile and I say sorry, but I think I yell it because she winces and steps back a little. Goddamn music.
"Sorry," I apologize again at an acceptable volume.
She just nods with a smile and I hurriedly walk away, my cheeks burning. For the first time since I started gymming, my half an hour on the elliptical is spent with my eyes fixed steadfastly on the TV positioned in front of me. Some new video by that Big Sean dude keeps playing every five minutes. It's catchy. I refuse to even think about looking over to where she and her friend are ellyticalling (is that even a word?) exactly eight machines down. Her friend has probably told her all about the crazy woman who yelled at her after practically mowing her down.
I contemplate leaving after the elliptical and not even working on my upper body. I'm humiliated. I think of what would have happened if it had been her instead of her friend. I know that she'll never speak to me and there's no way I'll ever get the guts to speak to her, so will she even notice?
Of course she won't. I'm the crazy stalker, not her. She probably doesn't know who I am. If she sees me, she'll look right past me. I've always been the invisible girl.
Feeling an unplanned wave of self-realisation wash over me, I jump off the elliptical, grab my stuff and hurry towards the locker room.
Quinn is right. I'm being ridiculous. One four-second encounter with her friend has made me finally realise it. What is watching her day in, day out going to accomplish? What has it accomplished? Nothing. Nothing except a realisation that I'm a creep.
I blink angrily, hating that my eyes are burning with unshed tears. I do not cry. I am not a crier. The last time I cried was when my Abuela disowned me after I told her I was gay. That was eleven years ago.
I clear my throat quietly and grab my bag out my locker. I don't bother showering and just head towards the exit, my earbuds dangling around my neck.
"Leaving so soon?" Blaine asks.
I force a smile. "Yeah. Not feeling very spritely today."
"Sorry to hear that," he says with a slight pout. "Given any thought to that spinning class?"
I look at the sign up sheet he hands me and I nibble on my bottom lip. Fuck it. I sign my name with a flourish. My eyes drift to the top to see who the 'really good' instructor is.
Brittany Pierce.
Never heard of her.
The spinning class only starts next week and I can't find it in me to go back to gym. I'm using work as an excuse, but Quinn knows something's up. Damn her insatiable need to know everything that's going on in my life.
Thankfully, when I snapped at her, she realised that it may be in her best interest to leave me alone.
The spinning class starts at eight so I'm up at seven on Tuesday morning and go about my usual routine before heading to the gym. I take a deep breath before walking through the glass double doors. Blaine smiles at me and tips an imaginary hat in greeting.
"Morning," I say.
"Ready for your first spinning class?" he replies.
"I suppose. It's something different, right?"
He nods. "I haven't seen you in a few days."
"Oh, yeah. Work kind of had me really busy," I say vaguely.
"Well, have fun!" he enthuses.
I nod and give him a small smile. He's sweet and not deserving of my self-pitying mood. I head to the locker room and deposit my bag into my usual locker. I stare forlornly at my iPod before tucking into the side pocket of my bag and closing the door.
Here we go.
I head to the studio and walk inside. It's five to eight so there are a few people already inside. I make my way to the back row and pick out a bike. They look intense. I quietly hum one of Mozart's symphonies as I wait for the instructor to arrive. My head is down so I don't notice when the door is closed and a voice calls everyone's attention. I freeze before looking up because I feel like I know the voice. Even though I've never heard it before, I know it.
My worst fear and my greatest desire both hit me squarely in the face as I lift my eyes and see the crystal blue orbs of the woman that has both haunted me and made me feel the most wonderful feelings in the world.
"Oh, shit," I whisper.
It is easily the worst forty-five minutes of my life. I can't concentrate, I can't keep up and my head is a mess. She doesn't pick on me, thankfully, and I berate myself for ever taking a chance on something new. First gym, now spinning. And she's everywhere. It's like she's tormenting me with what I know I will never have.
Spinning is fucking hard. It's gruelling and soul destroying because all around me are women who easily keep up with her furious pace. Except me. I'm failing miserably. I'm pretty sure I pull a muscle in my ass less than halfway through.
But I'm not about to let this get the better of me. I may be a recluse, I may be a nerd and socially awkward, but I'm not a quitter. Even if I only ever do this one class, I will finish it. I'll just call Quinn and tell her she needs to fetch me because I'm not able to move.
My legs are shaking as we enter the last ten minutes. They're shaking badly. Considering that I only took up this whole physical activity thing two months ago, this is by far the most intense thing I've done at the gym and my body is letting me know.
Stupid body.
I'm feeling a little faint when she calls it and encourages a round of applause for everyone's hard work. Hard work, my ass. Speaking of, I can't feel it. Like, at all. The room erupts into a hum of conversation as everyone starts chatting away. I stay on the bike and rest my head on my forearm. My breathing is heavy and I can feel my heart beating a mile a minute. The dizzy feeling is settling a little, but I'm afraid of what will happen when I stand up. If I can somehow teleport myself out of here, that will be amazing.
"Hey, are you okay?"
I freeze and my breathing starts picking up again for an entirely different reason. My head is still down and my eyes are tightly shut, but I know she's close. She's really close.
"I know it can be a little crazy, especially if you're a first-timer, and normally I'd be happy to let you chill here until your legs regain some feeling, but there's another class in here in fifteen minutes."
Crap. Just my luck. I manage to nod my head, keeping it on my forearm. Maybe if she sees me respond, she'll leave.
"You need some help?" she offers in a quiet, melodic voice. I knew she'd have a beautiful voice. Just like her.
I shake my head and give her a shaky thumbs up.
"I don't mind waiting with you."
I shake my head again, a little more forcefully.
"Um, okay. Well, hope to see you on Thursday."
Doubtful. In fact, unlikely. Nope, definitely not gonna happen.
"Bye," she all but whispers and I listen to her footsteps until I can't hear them anymore. I lift my head slowly and wince when the nausea rushes back. I need to go home.
With shaky arms, I brace myself and slide off the bike. My feet touch the ground and I slowly stand up straight. I take one step and try to even out my breathing. It takes me three minutes to reach the door, but none of it matters because the second I reach it, my vision goes blurry and fades to black almost instantly.
"...tell her."
"No! I can't! God, what would she think?"
"B, this whole thing is ridiculous. You've gotta see that."
It's still very dark and I realise my eyes are closed. I scrunch my face up in an effort to open them.
"Shit, she's waking up."
I feel like I'm on a bed. It's quite comfortable. My head feels like it's resting in water. You know that floating feeling? That. But I suppose that I should probably try and get up because-
Holy crap.
I sit up suddenly, the reason for my eyes being closed flooding back to me. I fainted. I frigging fainted.
Hey, take it easy," a melodic voice soothes from behind me.
My breathing picks up again and I refuse to look behind me. Oh God, I was laying on her. No wonder it felt so amazing. Of course it will. It's her.
My head is spinning again, but I'm desperate to get away. I'm embarrassed beyond words and I can't look at her.
"You need to calm down. Your body needs a few moments to recover," she says.
She's right. Of course she's right. But I still have to get out of there. To have her so close and know that I'll never actually have her in all the ways I've dreamed... It's just torture. It's my own fault, but it doesn't make it any easier to accept.
She must be the stealthiest person on the planet because the next thing I know, she's kneeling in front of me. My eyes close automatically and I take deep breaths, trying to get this erratic heaving under control.
"Here's an energy bar," she says softly. "It'll make you feel better."
I feel the softest and smoothest hands on my clenched fist. My breath hitches and I feel her hands still slightly. She deftly pries my fingers open and presses something into it. How is she doing this? It's like she knows the password to how my body works. Either that or my body is rebelling against me.
Oh, right. I fainted. That already happened.
"Please eat it?" She's pleading with me and I feel my eyes working against me. Does she have super powers or something?
"Come on, B. You have rehearsal," a different voice says.
"I..."
She's hesitating and it peaks my curiosity. Why would she hesitate? I'm a nobody. She doesn't even know me. She'll leave soon. I nod inside my head. She has no reason to stay.
"But..."
Okay, she needs to stop hesitating and actually go because if she doesn't, my inner curious cat will force my eyes open – or she will – and then I'll be royally screwed. And not in the way I wish.
"B, come on," the other voice urges.
"Fine," she huffs.
Behind my closed lids, I sense her standing up. But then she's crouching down because I can smell vanilla and I just innately know it's her.
"Please come to Thursday's session? Even if you don't partake. Just...please come?"
I frown slightly and I probably look like a frigging weirdo, frowning with my eyes closed. Why does she want me to go back? Spinning is so clearly not for me.
"Okay," she breathes, standing up again.
I hear her friend's voice fading away and I wait until I can't hear her anymore before I crack one eye open. My vision is a little blurry, but after I blink quickly a few times, everything becomes crystal clear. I'm on a yoga mat with a towel underneath me. I'm out of the way of the rest of the gym, which I'm thankful for. Well, I suppose I should thank her...
I take a deep breath and lay back down on the mat, absently opening the energy bar and munching it until it's gone. I spend that time weighing my options. If I go back on Thursday, I risk embarrassing myself even more. And, hello! She'll be there! Disaster.
If I don't...
Well, so what if I don't? She doesn't know me. It probably won't even register on her radar if she never sees me again.
Content with my decision, I slowly sit up, gripping the towel underneath me as a brace. Her towel. I freeze suddenly. Maybe I can give it to Blaine. He knows her, right? I nod my head to myself and start the grand task of getting to my feet. I can't believe it takes me five minutes. The dizziness is really bad. Am I truly that unfit? Maybe I need the spinning classes then.
Wait. No, I don't.
I don't, because she is the instructor and I can't see her again. I can't...
I shouldn't be here, but I am. I'm clutching the towel that has barely left my hands over the last two days as I stand just outside the front door of the gym. It's ten to eight and I'm petrified. I'm not even in gym clothes. It felt weird pulling on a pair of jeans and t-shirt this morning.
I've been having a war with myself since I abruptly left the gym on Tuesday. I've even gone as far as to make a list of pros and cons about why I should or shouldn't show up. Unfortunately, it didn't help. Like, at all. All it left me with was picturing me and the blonde beauty laying on yoga mats on a beach somewhere.
Yeah...so I may have been a little high on painkillers. Today is the first day that I'm actually able to walk properly. And by properly, I mean walking like I have a carrot stuck up my ass. So attractive. Quinn thinks it's hilarious. Of course she does. Bitch.
I glance down at my watch and grimace. Five to eight. I should go in now, give her the towel and be gone before anything else can happen. I repeat the instruction to myself for another full minute before actually building enough courage to walk through the glass doors and into the gym. Blaine's not at the front desk, and I'm thankful for the small talk reprieve. I don't mind Blaine, really, but at this point in time, small talk is the last thing on my mind.
I make my way to the studio and my breath automatically catches when I see her standing at the front of the class, fiddling with her phone.
Just go. Give her the towel and go.
I step towards the door and push it open. She looks up and I'm rooted to my spot. It's the first time she's looked directly at me and having those gorgeous cat eyes fixed on me has rendered me completely useless.
And then she smiles.
And I'm a mess. My insides melt and I see us riding off into the sunset on a unicorn and flying over a rainbow and it's raining fucking rabbits and-
Holy crap, she's walking towards me.
I know my eyes are wider than those damn Roswell UFOs. Could I be any more of a loser?
Yes, you could-
Fall. Yes, because that's what I do. In all my genius, I decide to take a step forward, forgetting that she has control of my body and I've lost all my own motor function. I close my eyes as the floor rushes up to meet me, but the impact never comes.
I feel strong arms wrapping around me and this has to be what limbo feels like. I'm stuck between heaven and hell because her arms are around me. Her intoxicating vanilla scent is invading my blood stream.
And yet it's all for naught. Because I know that I'm the only one that will ever feel this way. All I am is the stupid girl at the back of her spinning class who collapsed after one class.
"You okay?" she giggles.
Oh, God. I'm in so much trouble.
Her voice, her scent, her eyes, her body, her smile and now her giggle. It has to be illegal how fucking adorable it is. How can one person be so goddamn perfect? Seriously?
I quickly get to my feet and step back from her. My eyes drop, but then I'm staring at quite possibly the most perfect set of breasts. Like, they're just...perfect. My eyes drop even further when I realise I'm staring at her boobs.
Yeah, not creepy at all.
I thrust my hand out and the towel kind of hangs between us.
"Britt!"
Yes, just take it and go. God, don't leave me in limbo any longer than I have to be.
"Can you stay?"
Why did she have to ask that?
I bite my lip and somehow find it in me to lift my eyes to hers, only to deftly dodge them again. It's too intimate for me to look at her! God, this is so fucking ridiculous. I need to... I just need to go.
I shake my head and thrust the towel into her hand before spinning on my heel and heading for the exit. Well, gymming was fun while it lasted.
"Hey, Santana," Blaine calls from his spot behind the juice bar.
I momentarily divert my hasty exit. He deserves a goodbye. He's been nothing but sweet and friendly to me.
"What'll it be?" he asks.
I look up at all the selections. "Um, I dunno. A berry smoothie?" I pull a face immediately. "Wait, no, not that." The only way I'll enjoy that is if it came with fucking gold star sprinkles. I scrunch my eyes at the flavours. "Watermelon and avo? That doesn't sound like it should even be drinkable."
"Oh, I know, right?" Blaine agrees. "You wouldn't expect it be so yummy."
I look at him sceptically, but lift a shoulder in acquiescence. I watch as he whips up the gross-looking drink, but am pleasantly surprised when I take a hesitant sip.
"It's cos I have a secret ingredient," he whispers with a wink.
A smile creeps onto my face. I'm going to miss him.
"So no spin class today?"
I shake my head subtly. "Actually, I'm doing something I swore I never would."
Blaine raises a bushy eyebrow.
"I'm quitting."
"You're quitting gym? Because of the spin class?"
Kinda. Sorta. Maybe. Not really. But could be...
"No, because this isn't me," I eventually say honestly. "This whole gym thing. It was a whim and..." I sigh, "I'm done making a fool of myself."
Blaine stares at me like he knows exactly why I started coming to this place and I lean back in my chair slightly.
"So that means that I won't see your pretty face in the mornings?" he asks with a pout.
I roll my eyes and pull out my phone. "Put your number in, doofus."
He grins and does so. He calls his own phone to get my own number and hands mine back to me. "I'm not sure why, but I feel like this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
"Don't get ahead of yourself, buddy. Who knows? You may not even like the real me."
He cocks his head. "Is this person in front of me right now not the real you?"
I sigh. "I don't know sometimes."
He rubs his hands together. "This must be what being a bartender feels like." His face becomes sympathetic. "You know you can talk to me about anything."
I arch an eyebrow at him. "Don't ever become a bartender."
Quinn invites herself over later that night, needing a break from Rachel's crazy. I don't actually know how she lives with the girl, let alone...you know. Gross.
I'm kicking my buddies' asses at Call Of Duty while she stares at my monster TV blankly. She doesn't get it. What's there to get? Kill people in a virtual reality. It's awesomeness at ear-splitting volume.
I don't feel like cooking and neither does Quinn so we order some Thai food from my neighbour's shop. I get killer discount because I look after their grandkids sometimes.
There's a knock on my door and I jump up, cheering because I'm fucking starving. Game paused.
"I swear to God, you were abducted from another planet," Quinn mutters, downing her glass of wine. It's like, her third.
I stick out my tongue. "Don't be jealous when I develop super awesome super powers then. I'll be able to shoot ice from my eyes and..." I open the door, "...completely freeze you."
The last three words virtually die in my mouth because she's standing in my doorway, giving me the cutest smile.
Wait, no, she can't be here. What the hell is she doing here? I slam the door closed and lean against it, sliding down to the ground.
"San, what the hell?' Quinn asks, walking – stumbling, actually – over to me.
I can't speak. First my body, now my voice. What else is she going to take from me?
And how much of it will I give willingly?
All of it.
Quinn kicks me away from the door and I hide behind it when she turns the handle.
"Brittany?"
Huh?
So Quinn knows her. Like, actually knows her. I stay hidden behind the door as they start conversing like old friends. Wait, what if they are old friends? Oh, God. Quinn is going to tease me to death about this for the rest of my life. Why, why does she have to know the woman that I'm completely infatuated with?
"I'm sorry, Santana is hopeless with manners," Quinn says with a smirk in my direction.
I shake my head vehemently to dissuade her next action. Naturally, she completely ignores me.
"We're about to have some Thai food delivered. I'm sure there's more than enough if you'd like to stay?"
"Um..."
Say no and leave! What in the seven hells is she even doing here?
"I...I thought you and Rachel stayed in Manhattan?" she asks.
"Oh, we do. From time to time I play my best friend card and bug the shit out of Santana."
Please just let the ground open up and devour me whole.
Anything will be better than subjecting myself to any further embarrassment from my best friend. Actually, scratch that. Her role in my life needs to be re-evaluated.
"I suppose I can stay for a bit," she says and I groan inwardly.
"Santana, stop behaving like a child and come out from behind the door!" Quinn snaps, closing the door and revealing my super secret hiding place.
I pull my legs up to my chest and hide my face. Looking at her twice in one day is more than I can handle.
"Excuse her," Quinn says. "She's socially challenged."
Brittany giggles and I hate how much I love it. I hear their footsteps head towards the living room.
"Oh, are you playing Call Of Duty?" she asks excitedly and it makes me lift my head. I'm half hidden by the chair so she can't see me.
"Hell no. That's all Lady Nerds A Lot over there. I can't stand this stuff. But she's all into the computer-y stuff."
"Oh, really?"
Why does she have to pay attention to me? Shut up, Quinn! Shut. Up. Definitely need to revoke her best friend status.
"You know, this conversation would work so much better if the person in question joined us!" Quinn all but yells.
I pull a face and stick my tongue out at her. Not that she can see me. There's another knock on the door and I jump up, grateful for an excuse. I open the door and use it to shield me from view as I pay for the food. I give my usual delivery guy a big tip to make up for my complete inability to speak and shut the door with my foot, heading for the kitchen without looking at the two people in my living room.
I'm actually surprised that it takes Quinn a full minute to storm into the kitchen and hit me over the head. I just glare at her and straighten my glasses. I pull out the food and hear my companion snort.
"What the fuck, Santana?" she hisses. "I know you're not naturally so rude but would it kill you to not ignore Brittany?"
"Probably," I mumble.
"What?"
I sigh and stare up at the white ceiling for a few moments. "Br..." I can't even say her name. "It's her," I eventually state.
Quinn's eyes narrow in confusion then widen comically in realisation. "Holy shit. Seriously?"
I nod once and bite off half a spring roll, stuffing the other half in my friend's open mouth. I grin a little to myself as she splutters. Yup, payback is gonna be a bitch.
I grab two plates and start dishing the food. Quinn shakes her head at me and gets another plate. Oh, right. She's here. In my apartment. Holy crap. She's in my apartment. Frantically, I start wondering if it's clean. I don't recall leaving any random clothes lying around. Like, perhaps my underwear. Definitely didn't leave any underwear lying around. Good.
"I'm gonna eat in here," I mumble with a mouthful of dim sum.
"Oh, you are most definitely not," Quinn replies, grabbing my plate and expertly balancing it with hers and Brittany's. She heads out of the kitchen before I have a chance to recover and I stomp my foot in irritation. Half a spring roll and a dumpling. I can survive on that for the night. I'll just hide out in the kitchen until she goes.
Solid plan.
I jump up onto the island and lay on it, my legs dangling off the side. I close my eyes and try to imagine a world where I have never seen her. Emphasis on try. I try damn hard. I hate that I can't. My life has been simultaneously enriched and destroyed by the blonde beauty sitting in my living room.
"Um, hello?"
Oh, scratch that. She's in my kitchen now. I sit bolt upright, completely freak out and fall off the island.
Ow. Fuck, that hurt.
"Are you okay?"
I scramble to my feet and retreat into the furthest corner from her. I nod quickly, but keep my eyes glued to the ground. I see her feet taking tentative steps towards me. She has the cutest pink Converse sneakers.
"Have I...I mean, did I do something? Did I overstep or something on Tuesday?" she asks quietly.
My head stays down and I reluctantly shake it from side to side. She helped me after I fainted in a public. Only really awesome and sweet and kind and perfect people do things like that. People too good for me.
She's too good for me.
It's something I realised during my body coma. She is so perfect and I am...well, not. Far from it.
She sighs. "Do I intimidate you or something? You never look at me."
Because, duh, one look at you and I'm a total puddle.
But of course, I can't say that. I'm not even sure that I can form words.
Instead, I slowly shake my head. It's not her fault, really. She can't help being the most beautiful, perfect, unattainable woman in the world.
"Santana..."
My breath catches in my throat. Never in a million years did I ever expect to hear her say my name. And I hate how goddamn amazing it sounds in her soft, melodic voice.
"Okay, I'm just gonna talk. I got your information from Blaine. He didn't want to give it to me because he said that you were pretty down today and that because you're no longer a member of the gym, your information is totally off limits."
I frown at her pink shoes. Where is she going with this?
"But I had to see you. Not just because of what happened on Tuesday and today. I... God, this is going to sound so creepy, but I feel something when we're in the same room. It's like there's electricity in the air and we're the two poles."
And I have to look up at her. Her gaze is also cast downward, but as soon as she senses my movement, her head lifts and our eyes meet.
And it's fucking electrical. I just stare at her. And she lets me. For a few precious moments that I will forever cherish, even though I'll probably never see her again, I let my eyes take in every detail that I haven't been able to memorise from afar. She has the most adorable freckles dotting her cheeks. Her nose is long and elegant, but has a totally cute little button that, in another lifetime, I can picture myself bopping or kissing. Her ears are barely visible behind her hair, but I glimpse a pair of rainbow earrings and several smaller studs going up the curve. Finally, my eyes rest on her lips, which are curved into a small smile. They are slightly pink and so fucking kissable that I can officially die a happy woman.
She's so perfect.
And way out of my league.
I take a deep breath and meet her blue eyes once more. I count down in my head. 10...9...8...7... When I reach one, I'm going to walk out of my kitchen and away from the most beautiful woman in the world forever.
5...4...
I know I created everything in my head. The possibility of us is nothing but some silly dream in my head. My stalking did not go unnoticed and now she feels obliged to make it less creepy.
2...1.
My eyes flutter closed and I take another breath before stepping past her and walking out of my kitchen. Well, that's my plan. I don't expect her to grab my hand and stop me from moving. Immediately, my entire body fires up at her touch.
She's touching me. She's touching me.
Holy shit.
"Please don't run away from me. I just want to talk to you. Or at least have you say something to me."
My heart is thudding a trillion miles a minute and I feel like I may faint again. I turn from her, my hand slipping out of hers and brace myself against the island.
What is this? Am I in a dream sequence? She's voluntarily talking to me.
I feel her standing behind me. I literally feel her because she's millimetres from pressing up against my back. I can feel her breath on the back of my neck.
"Please stop running away from me," she whispers, and I shiver at the sensation of her words against my ear.
I'm not a claustrophobic person, but if this is what it feels like, then I don't think it's all that bad. I'm pinned between Brittany and my kitchen island. Her hands rest on the counter on either side on mine. I stare at our left hands, at the contrast in tone and my eyes linger on our matching naked ring fingers, all manner of images rolling through my mind.
I bet she'd look fucking sensational in white.
No, I need to stop. This can't possibly be real.
"Turn around."
Definitely not.
"Santana."
Shit. It still sounds so good.
"Please turn around."
I can't.
"I want to look at you."
Oh, God.
She's doing that thing where she controls my body. I try fighting it but really, it's so pointless. My chest heaving rapidly from my crazy breathing – I seriously can't fully explain the effect she has on me – I slowly rotate my body. I keep my eyes closed because I know that opening them will confirm just how close she is and I'm pretty sure that I won't be able to handle that.
Definitely sure.
Once my back is against the island and my hands are clenched just above my ass, she speaks and I turn into a puddle again.
"Open those beautiful eyes, please."
Cue lack of control. My gaze is already on her when my lids open and I actually stop breathing because fuck she's close. So close that I can see each individual eyelash.
"Hey," she whispers.
"Hey."
Holy crap! I speak! I haven't forgotten. Yay me.
The grin that springs onto her face makes me knees wobble and before I can react, her hands move from the counter on either side of me and wrap around my waist.
"Oh my God," I breathe out, not able to stop the word vomit.
"Santana," she says, barely audible.
I meet her blue eyes. God, she's so beautiful.
"I'm Brittany."
I nod slowly. "I'm Santana."
"It's really, really nice to meet you, Santana."
I nod again. It appears my regained speech is temporary.
"I'd like to ask you a question."
I just wait, my eyes never leaving hers.
"From the first day I saw you, two months ago, I've wondered what it would be like to..." She trails off and her gaze drops slightly. She bites her lip and my eyes immediately fall to the action.
Oh, fuck.
"W-what?" I stammer.
She looks at me again. "Trust me?"
I just stare at her mutely.
"Close your eyes," she requests.
Wait...
"Please?"
I give in and shut them. My heart is pounding. Ninety percent of me expects to open my eyes and she'll be gone. But the other ten percent...
It feels like a lifetime, but then her body is against mine and I can't hold back the gasp of surprise and pleasure and just everything. She feels so amazing, even more amazing than any of my dreams. Which shouldn't really be a surprise. She is, after all, a goddess.
Just as I'm trying to figure out my thoughts about her increased closeness, a little voice in the back of my head queries why she moved so close. My eyes almost fly open at that thought, but I don't have time.
Because time stands still.
Because her lips are against mine.
She's kissing me.
She's kissing me.
Brittany presses in a little closer when she realises that I'm not resisting – and why the hell will I? - and takes my top lip between hers. My bottom lip automatically reacts, anchoring her mouth to mine and suddenly I'm kissing her back.
Holy shit, I'm kissing her back.
I feel her hum softly, the vibrating rumbling against our lips. Slowly – and part of me is still sure this is a dream – she sucks on my top lip and I can't help but bite down on her bottom one instinctively. She gasps and pulls away and I cringe. What the hell is wrong with me? My eyes remain closed because I know now that the next time I open them, I'll be alone. It seems cruel, to give me a taste of perfection and then rip it away. Then again, it's my own fault for-
"Santana."
My eyes flutter open and my first sight is her blue eyes. Her beautiful blue eyes that are several shades darker than they were a few moments ago. I swallow nervously. We just look at each other for what feels like hours and then she's moving closer, her arms around my waist anchoring me close to her. I'm trapped.
And it's honestly the best kind of trap in the history of traps.
"I didn't imagine that, right?" she whispers.
My mouth drops open slightly and I just shake my head.
"Oh, thank God." She rests her forehead against mine.
"Huh?" is all I can mumble.
Brittany moves back slightly to look at me properly. She bites her lip and it is just the worst thing she can do because, before I can control myself, I'm leaning forward and kissing her gently. Her hands on my hips dig into my skin and it feels fucking phenomenal. She kisses me back just as softly and I only break it after a good few minutes when I need to breathe.
"Wow," she half whispers, half moans.
Never has a more sexy sound existed.
How is this real? I muse to myself in disbelief.
Brittany pulls away again, but her arms stay around me. I only remember now that my hands are still clenched in fists behind me. I want to so desperately touch her, feel her, hold her close to me so that there's absolutely no space between us.
"When Blaine told me that you'd quit, I...I couldn't let you disappear from my life without knowing," she murmurs to me.
"Knowing what?" I find myself whispering.
She smiles. "Knowing what it would be like to kiss you, to finally look into your eyes, to..." she takes a deep breath, "ask you out on a date."
My jaw drops and I'm pretty sure that I look like some retarded cartoon character.
Brittany Pierce wants to ask me out. She wants to ask me out. On a date. Me. On a date. With her. Us, on a date. Together.
"Y-Y-Y-You..." I stammer, not actually able to form anything remotely coherent.
I'm not sure whether it's adorable or infuriating that she doesn't say anything, just looks at me with a glazed look in her eyes and a smile fixed on her lips.
I eventually find myself nodding and her smile brightens.
"Yeah?" she asks excitedly.
I nod again, quicker and with a little more confidence.
She squeals – so fucking cute – and her arms lift to my shoulders, pulling me into a tight embrace. My previously idle hands decided to regain their liveliness and slowly crept around her slim waist.
Holy crap. She's hugging me and she smells so fucking good and I want to touch her so badly but I'm scared that I won't be able to let her go if I do.
"Santana," she whispers.
I don't respond, just turn my face against her shoulder.
"Put your arms around me," she instructs.
I swallow and do as I'm told. My hands find the small of her back and rest there.
"Really hug me back."
I sigh quietly and do so. My forearms meet her shirt and I breathe her scent in deeply. It's just as wonderful as I remember it from her towel.
Oh, God. Wait, this is wrong. She needs to know what a creep I am! She may think I'm an unassuming person from gym that happened to show up at her spinning class and promptly die.
"Wait," I hear myself mumble. I push her away gently.
"What's wrong?" she asks.
I look up nervously. "I, um...I need t-to tell you...um..."
"You can tell me anything," she encourages sweetly.
I just shake my head subtly and drop my hands back to the island. She doesn't let me go, though.
"Santana, please just tell me."
I squeeze my eyes closed and take a deep breath. I'm about to ruin any chance I have with the most perfect woman in the world.
"I, uh, I didn't go to that gym accidentally. I...I s-saw you a-and I just...I..."
"You what?"
"I watched you."
Not the best way to say it, but it's at least out there.
It's an understatement to say I'm surprised when she giggles. I look up at her in confusion.
"Oh, Santana. I was watching you as much as you were watching me."
Cue jaw drop again. "W-W-What?"
She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and I shiver.
"The moment you walked onto the gym floor, I was mesmerised. I knew that I had to know you. It wasn't just attraction that I felt. It was so much more." She ducks her head when my eyes drop. "Did you feel it?"
I just nod.
"So, is there anything else that you want to tell me?"
The confusion is back. "But...I was like, s-stalking you or something. How are you okay with that?" I whisper.
"Stalking is such a negative word," she says simply. "I was admiring you and you were admiring me. Can't we leave it at that?"
"Just like that?" I ask suspiciously. This seems way too good to be true.
Brittany just smiles at me. "Yes, just like that. I really like you, Santana. Way more than I ever thought was possible without never having even met you. But I can't help it. Every time I saw you, my heart would do a little something like this."
She takes my right hand and places it over her heart. My breath catches in my throat and I'm pretty sure that I can't hear anything with the blood rushing through my head. But I do feel the rhythmic thumping of her heart. And it's quite fast. About as fast as mine, actually. I meet her eyes and they're sparkling.
"I feel like this is too good to be true," I mumble insecurely. Good stuff doesn't happen to me.
"Feel this, Santana. Feel me."
My palm is flat against her chest. Her heartbeat is resonating solidly against it and it soothes me a little.
"And feel this."
She releases my hand, which remains over her heart and cups my cheeks. Our eyes meet briefly before they close and our lips join in a passion-filled kiss. Without encouragement, my other hand leaves the island counter and wraps around her waist, pulling her closer to me. I'm actually astounded how we seem to fit together so effortlessly.
It's almost like...
I mean, I don't want to seem over eager, but it's almost like...we're made for each other.
My hand travels upwards from her heart to her collarbone, my fingers lightly tracing her soft, soft skin. She shivers and it sends thrills through me. I gently cradle her jaw as we continue our sweet lady kisses and holy crap she's the best kisser in all of existence.
This time, she breaks the kiss, breathing heavily. Her forehead rests against mine, though. I savour the retained contact.
And then, of all fucking things to happen, my stomach lets out the loudest fucking rumble ever heard in the history of tummy rumbles. Brittany giggles her adorable fucking giggle – God, she's so perfect – and I just blush, groaning inwardly.
"Come on, I know Quinn stole your food to try and get to come out of the kitchen," she says quietly. "Let's get some Thai in you."
I pout, a little petrified that once we step out of the kitchen, it will all have been a dream.
Okay, a lot petrified.
I feel like she could be it for me. I feel like I can fall for her and...
She'll catch me.
My pout drops away of my own device, but I get a lovely surprise in the form of beautiful, smiling lips pressing against my own. It's quick and sweet, but completely wonderful. I can't help but letting a goofy smile cross my face when she breaks away slowly.
"Oh, wow," she murmurs, her own smile growing.
"What?" I ask, suddenly self-conscious.
"You have the most gorgeous smile, Santana. You really do."
And cue bashfulness.
"And you're adorable when you're shy," she coos.
"Shut up," I mumble, my eyes firmly fixed on my feet.
"Hey." She tips my chin up without any resistance. "Girls without confidence are real turn off for me, so how about you show me some of that Santana I've been admiring all these months?"
I blink. She thinks I'm confident? Me? Me?
"I'm not sure who you were admiring," I can't help but scoff. "I am anything but confident."
"Hmm," Brittany considers, tilting her head and looking quite possibly even more fucking cute. "Guess you'll have to prove me right, then."
She wrinkles her nose mischievously, pecking my own and grabs my hand before skipping out of the kitchen. I just smile and allow myself to be pulled back into the living room. Quinn is curled up, snoring loudly. She barely touched her food.
More for me!
I sit down – more like I'm pulled down by the bubbly blonde attached to my hand – and reach for the dim sum at the same time as she does. I bite my lip and meet her eyes, handing my favourite Thai food over to the girl I'm falling for really hard.
"Thank you," she whispers shyly.
My controller vibrates on the coffee table. I'm still connected to the game, but my soldier – obviously – died a while ago.
"Wanna play?" she asks, a gleam in her eyes.
I raise an eyebrow and her eyes go just a little darker.
"Think you can handle me, Pierce?" I ask with a smirk.
Oh, maybe this is what she means by confidence?
"Question is, Lopez, can you handle me?" she replies evenly, settling herself into my lap and grabbing a controller for the both of us.
I just stare at her.
She's seriously fucking perfect.
And done :) Just fluff. Kinda enjoyed how dramatic Santana was in this. And yeah, it may have been a little creepy, but whatevs. That's the beauty of fiction ;)
Onwards and up!
-H
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