Loved the reviews from last chapter! c: Keep them up. This one's a little shorter. We'll start doing longer ones again, enjoy!
Santana was struggling to contain herself asleep for more than a few minutes before she was startled awake with a fit of coughing. She was irritable more than usual due to many things and this wasn't helping anything, she let out a frustrated groan and threw off the covers in a huff. Turning her head around and seeing the red digits flicker through the darkness. What the hell was she doing up at four o'clock in the morning? This was making the Hispanic woman in a foul mood. She was giving up on sleep as another fit of coughing had interrupted her thoughts again. This time this fit of coughing came with a few sneezes. She reached around the bed side and grabbed the tissue hastily. Of course on top of everything she had to get sick. As if the day yesterday wasn't bad enough? This was the cherry on top.
Angrily she had threw on her robe and snatched the box of tissues from the night stand. Tossing the Kleenexes that she had used in the waste paper basket. Santana stood by the door and tip toed her way to the bathroom, looking at her reflection in the mirror and uttering out "ech". She looked bad and she felt three times as worse as she looked, she took a brush threw the tangled locks and had another coughing fit, dropping the brush in the sink with a heavy clang. God, she hated to be ill and she had a feeling that this would be the worst times ever.
Santana had stood quietly, listening to any indication that noise had caused the blonde to be awakening from her slumber. Just thinking of Brittany was making her relive the turmoil that had transpired between, the two lovers? Past lovers? She had no idea what they were at this point. Santana had jumped in the tub to relax her frozen muscles and when she came out the bath, a couple of hours after, she had wrestled with herself for the duration of a good five minutes before she threw her arms up in the air and retreated to the bedroom closing the door behind her.
Her stubbornness sometimes got the best of her and in this situation, it definitely had.
At first glance of being in the bedroom had brought on a lot of memories of the many nights that had them enraged of sheets having lazy days and just staying in bed. The intensity of the memories hitting her all at once had angered her and she picked up a recent picture of them smiling and being "in love" hurling it at the dresser and watching the glass shatter attempting to sleep while she tossed and turned from the sickness, she supposed.
Tip-toeing back in the hallway and seeing the speck of blonde sleeping on the worn out couch that had always said they would discard, but never got the time to. As she walked by the couch she had noticed that the room was freezing and the blanket was on the ground. Even through the anger and the hurt, she didn't want Brittany to freeze. She bent down and picked up the blanket and threw it over the woman and walked to the kitchen.
They needed to talk at some point, wouldn't they?
Santana had took the kettle and filled it to the brim with water, making herself a herbal tea, trying to make as little noise as possible.
Brittany had awoken to the noise of the Latina coughing, more guilt seeping into her chest. She was sick because of Brittany. Santana trudged through the cold to beg for the blonde's approval and what did she do? She rejected her.
She had managed to fall back into her slumber until she heart the shattering glass and the Latina hiss. She knew it wouldn't be a broken window... Tears had fallen from her eyes until she heard the heavy footsteps approaching her. She closed them as Santana toppled the blanket over her, the small gesture making her feel better but then again, not at all. She knew she had to make it up to her, she definitely overreacted. She loves Santana, and when two people love each other, they don't get up.
Her ears rang at the sound of the kettle and she sat up, blonde waves falling over her shoulders. She briefly untangled them with her fingertips before getting up and rubbing her weary eyes, approaching the beauty at the counter with a slight frown as she hopped upon the marble. "You're sick..." she paused, tilting her head to glance into her puffy eyes.
She sighed, "let me take care of you, please, San? I know it's awkward but...I love you. We need to talk about this and hopefully resolve the issues.." she paused and pressed her lips into a thin line. "I'll let you think about that.." she muttered as she swung her legs off the counter and headed to the bedroom, seeing the picture frame on the floor. Her mouth went agape, she bent down and started to collect the broken pieces, even cutting her palm in the process.
Santana was startled when she heard the soft footsteps into the kitchen. The kettle was whistling, indicated that the tea was done. Santana had released a breath that she was holding in, in fear of saying or doing anything to make this situation a lot more complicated than it already was. Hearing the sweet words that at one point had filled the tiny Latina with so much tenderness.
She wanted to forget this ever happened and go back to where things were. If only it was that simple. Santana poured the tea and made a extra cup for her counter part. Whispering out after Brittany had left the words trailing through the tiny kitchenette. "I love you, too." She muffled out and set the cup on the counter, pulling the cup to her lips, taking slow steady sips. She knew that they needed to talk.
What better time then the present. S
She picked the steaming cup in her palms. "I want you to." Referring to her taking care of her like they used to do. She walked back into the bedroom and watched silently, taking sips of the tea.
"We need to talk, we at least owe that to ourselves" She announced walking in the room and bending down careful of the glass.
"Leave it. You will hurt yourself and then I will have blood all over the floor." She attempted to make a joke to mask her nervousness.
Brittany found herself smiling at Santana's comment, scooping up the glass she had already collected and throwing it into a small trash can. "Well...a little too late for that." She wiped the blood off of her palm and onto her light cotton shorts before shoving her hands into the pockets and chewing on her lower lip. "Let's talk."
Santana looked down and saw the wound on the palm of the blonde. Our of habit, she took Brittany's hand and walked to the bathroom. Pulling out the first aid kit and cleaning up the small cut on her hand.
"Look, what was done months ago.. It didn't mean anything" Santana lowered her head and concentrate on running the palm under the cold water. "It was just a one time thing.. Well a two time thing." She attentively took the rubbing alcohol and slowly applied it to the cut.
Brittany winced slightly at the contact the open scar made with the rubbing alcohol, taking a breath and looking up at the brunette.
"I believe you." She gulped, "I overreacted. And..you walked through a stupid blizzard for me. I should be the only person being sorry. I know it's probably hard to forgive me right now, but I want to take care of you. You're really sick and I know you didn't get your flu shot because you thought it was some sort of zombie apocalypse thing.. Well, I thought it was a zombie apocalypse thing. I watched an episode of The Walking Dead that day..."
Santana had offered the blonde a apologetic smile with the burning of the skin and pressed her lips softly against the now bandaged hand. "I will be okay." She stubbornly muttered out, coughing into the sleeve of her robe and sneezing a few times. She hated to admit it, but she was indeed sick. She could feel her body temp start to rise again.
"Ya.. I couldn't let you leave in the state that you were in.." She lowered her head and spoke out in a voice in barely a whisper. Chuckling softly to the last of her sentence, mad or not, she still found the things that Brittany said in a cute way. "I remember you telling me all about it." It felt like old times with Brittany, but something was missing.
"Britt. You called off our wedding..." You can hear the pain in her voice when she spoke out. "We can't pretend that didn't happen. As much as I want to."
