A/N: A little thing I just wrote. If there are any mistakes or it just sucks - I blame it on the fact that it's way past midnight over here. Anyway, I hope you like it. DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything except these words. Also, happy 4th of July everyone!
A little hesitant I rested my hand on the doorknob. It was now or never. I could still walk away. Pretend like I'd never been there in the first place. Leave everything the way it was.
My hand pushed down, and the door sprang open. I lifted my gaze, biting down on my bottom lip. She was sitting on a chair in front of the mirror, fixing her make up or something. Her dark hair was waving down over her shoulders, shiny and slightly curled. I couldn't really see her face, but she was still so beautiful. For a few seconds I stayed in the doorway, just staring at the girl I'd been in love with for most of my life. She was a woman now.
I took a deep breath. "Santana...?"
She nearly dropped the mascara she'd been holding. I could see her jaw tighten for a split second, and then she looked up. A mixture of surprise and disbelief flashed in her eyes, and she got up so quickly the chair she'd been sitting on fell over. "B-Brittany?"
"Hey," I smiled weakly. I should probably have felt uneasy, but the truth was – I hadn't felt this good in years.
"Hey," she replied softly, slowly walking up to me. "I... W-what are you doing here?"
"The same as everyone else, I suppose. See the one and only Santana Lopez in action." I fist-pumped the air, before pointing at her with my index finger.
A small smile crept up her face, but her brow was knitted together. The look in her eyes was unfamiliar for me – and to be honest, it worried me as well. Suddenly I felt like I made a mistake by coming here. Maybe it would've been better if I just went home after the performance. But at the same time I knew I wouldn't have been able to do that. I couldn't drive all the way to Columbus, watch her sing a song, and then leave like we didn't have a history together. Not again.
She lifted her hand to run it through her hair, but ended up pressing her right eye closed instead. For the first time I realized she looked tired. No, not just tired – exhausted. She literally looked like she could fall asleep any second now.
"If it's a bad timing I could go..." I offered, a bit unwillingly. I'd rather have stayed, but if she wanted me gone... Well, who was I to force myself onto her like that?
"No, it's okay." Her lips curled up a little, and she gestured I could come in. "I just didn't expect to see you."
That made sense. We hadn't spoken in years, and I didn't know if we were even still Facebook friends. Me showing up in her dressing room must've been a surprise. I just hoped it was a good one.
I took a few steps forward, closing the door behind me. I was now standing dangerously close to her, and part of me just wanted to give in the urge to hug her. To hold her, even. Instead, I walked around her and plopped down on the couch standing in the middle of the room. "So... how are you? I mean, I've seen some stuff on the internet but you can never trust the tabloids, right?"
"Right," she said, with a slow nod. She breathed in and out a few times, probably gathering her thoughts. Then some of the old Santana Lopez seemed to return to her body, and she sat down next to me on the couch. "I'm good. Real good, actually. Tired, but that's okay. What about you? Are you still going to MIT? Because I passed Boston a few days ago and I must admit I was looking for your face in the crowd."
A warm, fuzzy feeling spread through my body when she said that. It meant she was still thinking about me sometimes, even if it was just little things like my face. But then I realized what she had asked, and I looked down at my hands. "No... I don't go to MIT anymore. I dropped out the first year, actually. I guess college just wasn't for me, or something." The other option – the more realistic one – was one I hadn't said out loud yet, but I knew everyone was thinking it. I was probably too stupid for a fancy college like that.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Santana said, with a hint of pity in her voice. I didn't want her pity though, so I looked up and shrugged. "It's okay, I got over it. At least I don't have homework anymore." I tried to sound cheerful. It probably would've fooled everyone... except Santana. She knew me too well. Even after three years she could probably read my face like an open book.
"Enough about me, though. Tell me about you. Is being famous exactly the way you thought it would be?"
Now I got her smiling, for real this time. "Not at all. I suppose in ways it's better, but it's also worse. I think I overestimated the amount of privacy I'd have... but then I start thinking like, 'This is actually my job.' I get to go all around the country to do what I love most – singing and performing. And people like me for it. It's crazy. Real crazy."
I loved the way she talked about her work. I'd seen so many interviews – also with other people – in which they said these exact same things, but that could only be because it was so true. It was pretty crazy.
"I'm so proud of you," I blurted out. "You had the opportunity, and you grabbed it with both hands. And now look where you are. You're on top of the world, and you just keep going higher and higher and there's nobody who can stop you."
Santana buried her face in one of her hands, swatting my arm with the other. "Shut up. You make me sound like such a diva."
"Nothing wrong with that," I grinned, blushing a little at the touch. "It's about time the world sees how talented you really are."
Her dark brown eyes locked with mine, and my stomach made a flip backwards. Several flips, actually. Call me cheesy or cliché, but looking into those eyes I'd seen a million times before felt exactly like coming home after some sort of super long trip around the world or something.
I saw her eyes drop a tiny little bit, and before I knew what was happening I felt her lips crash with mine. One of her hands grabbed the back of my neck, making it impossible for me to move, while the other slipped into my own somewhere in my lap. My eyes fluttered closed, and while basically every cell in my body screamed not to, I started kissing back.
Forget what I just said about coming home by just staring into her eyes. Kissing her was ten times better. Like coming home from a trip to the moon, or a completely other universe with flying unicorns in rainbow suits everywhere.
Just when I started to forget my name, she pulled back, completely out of the blue. I was panting a little, suddenly hyperactive and aware of everything that happened around me. "Wha–" I tried to say, but she cut me off with a firm shake of her head.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. We haven't even spoken the past three years and– I don't even know if you're single. Are you single? Because if not I just made a serious mistake..." Her cheeks were growing bright red, and she kept rambling about how wrong it was of her to kiss me.
I tried to interrupt her a few times, but she didn't listen, so eventually I did the only thing I could think of. I leaned in and kissed her.
There were less fireworks this time – maybe because she was in the middle of a sentence when my lips touched hers – but fireworks nonetheless.
With a small smile I pulled back, leaning my forehead against hers. "Shut up. I'm totally single, and you didn't do anything wrong and... ugh, just kiss me."