Santana paced across the carpets that dug deep into her ankles. She looked at herself that had reflected on the glass windows. Her face was divided by a line of luminance as the light from the nearby nightlight landed on her face's left side. It seemed like years ago, and she could not recognize the Santana that she had known, well, it wasn't the lonely, vicious, indifferent Santana.
She can't take her mind off of the blonde she had met in Battery Park earlier. They did not talk, it was like, she was the only one who got to know the blonde. However, she had no idea why she can't read the blonde…why she can't figure her out.
When she had known that she can basically read everybody's personality and figure them out, it was strange to her at first. But she had been used to it. Yes, she can read people's personalities, except for the blonde. She had wondered what her name is, and there was an urge inside her, the dark part of her that she should run out there into the city to venture and find her.
It was as if the blonde was someone significant for her.
Santana looked around her messy living room. She had been on the rocks lately, her spasms and attacks had been very frequent, now that her mother had gone and gave up. Sometimes, she will just wake up in the middle of the night, feeling as if she had to go out there, and just vent it all out to someone random.
She had been there, in the private hospital where her mother had been confined and her heart instantly bled out for her the moment she had walked into the door and saw her helpless mother and read her mind.
I must be strong for Santana…
Those were the last words her mother had, and they were left unspoken.
Santana wiped the tears from her eyes and cursed the air. Sometimes, she considered that in-depth telepathy as a curse. Her head started to ache again as she felt her consciousness being dragged back into the deep abyss. Every single time she thinks about her mother, it was always like this.
It was happening again.
"Mom…" her soft whimper pierced through the air, her voice cracking.
"Santana…" it was as if Carmen Lopez's voice was from a dream.
Santana looked at the figure standing beside her reflection. "Santana…remember who you are…"
Her mind was rocking back and forth as she tried to hold on to her sanity. All she felt was the soft carpet brushing her face. She had passed out.
Santana woke up a little while later, her sad eyes were now transformed into fiery, dead-glazed pupils that seemed to be just as nonchalant about everything. She had, in utter honesty had forgotten and lost the track of time.
She went out the back window and out into an emergency fire exit. A few more steps took her farther up, and out into the rooftop. She sat on the edge of the building, the cold wind whipping her face furiously.
The city made a good view from here. Santana thought. Then, the girl with blue eyes came back into her mind. Santana drew in a slow, deep breath.
That blonde made her feel…things. She can't understand it, but the blue-eyed girl had a strange effect on her. It was like she can be gentler, that she can actually control the darkness inside her.
If Santana thinks about her, she feels at peace. It's like Santana had known the blonde for so long and she had been in her heart for far too long. It was as if they had met years ago and if ever Santana could never see her again she would stay dreaming about the blonde. Even if it would have to be for the rest of forever.
She inhaled the cool, crisp night air as she looked beyond the city lights. If only she could see that blonde again, she would do everything to know her.
Santana chuckled to herself in such sarcasm. She clicked her tongue and strutted back to her apartment, satisfied and calmed and composed. She travelled to the only separated room in her apartment, the bathroom and took a shower.
She went out of the shower some fifteen minutes or so after it, and went up to the brown staircase and flipped over her bed.
The blonde was still in her mind.
She smiled half-heartedly and stared up on her ceiling. After a long, hard stare, she started to feel drowsy and her eyes felt heavy. It's time to sleep.
Sunlight kissed Santana's face the day afterwards. She rose up from her bed, and made her way to the bathroom and gargled her mouth. The whole morning had been the usual routine, and she went out of her apartment after a few minutes. She planned on grabbing breakfast.
Her start-off meal consisted of French bagels and a black cup of espresso. She was leaning over her table, looking out into the traffic and figuring out how or who the blonde girl was.
Suddenly there was a clutter and a shuffle of stools and a voice pervaded over the air. "Quinn, this one, this one!"
The voice seemed to tear Santana's ears and she squirmed at the high-pitched voice.
"Rachel, shut it!" another voice called.
"Come on, both of you," a soft, gentle voice said out, making Santana turn towards the direction.
"I'll have the muffins!" a toddler-sized girl shrieked out. Her voice was the piercing one.
"Yeah fine, I'll have the muffin just the same," the hazel-eyed blonde mumbled and looked up to the tall, lanky blonde that haunted Santana's sleep and consciousness. "What about you, Britt? What would you like?"
"I'll have some French bagels, Quinn," the blue-eyed blonde smiled at the girl named Quinn. "And don't forget my tea," she said out loud and finally took a seat on a table just behind Santana.
"So, tell me, how does you room feel like?" Brittany smiled through the glass as Santana looked at her reflection on the glass door.
She adored the way the blonde moves her lips, her tongue, her everything…and she just wondered how it would feel to hold her. Santana had to sigh as she looked at the watch on her wrist.
She had to leave.
So she stood up and gave the beauty behind her one final look and walked out of the place. But as she started to leave off, she heard the hobbit-sized girl yap at Brittany.
"So does your place in Fifth, does…does it fit you right?"
"Yeah, it's like totally a bomb," she heard the angelic voice again.
"Wow, nice…" Rachel hummed in approval as Quinn arrived with their food.
So she lives downtown. Score.
Santana was eavesdropping in the conversation and she almost choked on the coffee she had on her left hand. Realization sunk into her, that she is entertaining the thoughts that had been swimming in her mind.
Of course, she shouldn't let herself enjoy the happy thoughts caused by someone else, other than her own self.
But she couldn't help it.
Santana left the room with a smirk plastered on her face.