A quick update this time! I'm on Christmas break now so the updates should be more frequent :)

Hope you enjoy, please review if you have time!

Santana took the long way home from Brittany's, mainly to avoid the little sister and piles of homework waiting for her but also because she wanted to stop off at the store. By the time she'd parked her car and stepped out into the warm evening air, her heart had just about returned to normal. She toyed with the bandage as she walked into the store, her eyes immediately searching for the cigarettes. She'd run out two days ago and hadn't been alone long enough to buy anymore since. She dragged her fingers along the white boxes, looking for the one with the least gruesome picture printed on the front. She understood the health implications but seeing a charred pair of lungs every time she looked inside her purse was not her idea of fun.

She was hovering between two boxes when the door opened.

"Well, well, well. Always wondered where you got that raspy voice, Lopez."

His voice made her clench her fists. Refusing to look up, she scowled intently at the full shelves. "Go away, Puck."

"Can't. Need to grab myself a couple of cans." He moved closer and she held her breath, not wanting him to pick up on her anxiety. She was waiting for him to touch her but he walked right past. She glanced up briefly, realizing that he had actually been moving towards the beer, not her. She cursed herself internally, annoyed by how easily he could rattle her.

He saw her looking and held up the cans of beer as evidence. "Don't worry, Lopez. I won't be making that mistake again."

"Excuse me?"

"You. You aren't as good as you used to be, kiddo."

Santana felt the hairs on her neck bristle as fury rose within her. How dare he. She fought back the urge to claw his eyes out and instead picked up a pack of cigarettes, twirling it neatly between her thumb and forefinger. She let her eyes meet his and she raised an eyebrow at his smirk.

"That's not what you said two weeks ago, Noah." She kept her voice smooth and stepped towards him, close enough so only he would hear her. "You were practically begging for it."

She saw his hands ball into fists.

"You came onto me, Santana." He hissed. That was true.

"I was drunk." She shrugged. "And if you think I'd touch you while sober, you are delusional. I wouldn't fuck you sober if you were the last man on earth." She growled into his ear. That was also true. She'd been weak and he was there. It was just sex. "And…" She started again, "Having sex with you just made me even more certain that I am, and always will be, a lesbian. So I suggest you leave me the hell alone."

With that, she threw at the correct change at the cashier and stormed out into the night without looking back.

Her hands shook slightly as she drove home and she felt the need to shower for at least a week. Just seeing him made her feel dirty. Like she'd done something wrong. She hadn't, of course. And neither had he. They slept together because in that moment, they'd wanted to. He wanted to because he was trying to get over Quinn and she wanted to because it would stop her thinking about everything else. She'd been so ridiculously drunk that she'd literally thrown herself at him. He was an old friend. She was comfortable with him and it had been all too easy.

It had been all too easy to let him lead her upstairs. All too easy to fall into bed with him. All too easy to forget everything else. It was only afterwards, when he was snoring and she was wide awake that she began to regret it. Her skin had crawled with the thought of how easily she could revert back to old habits. She could still see him so clearly, lying there dead to the world. Beads of sweat still clustered on his forehead. She'd seen it so many times before. She knew he'd be gone by the time she woke up in the morning. They were always gone.

Until Dani came along, she'd slept with more guys than she cared to count. At the time she didn't know why she did it. She just thought it was cool and she liked the way people talked about her. Because to her, being called a slut was better than being called what she actually was. And then, she discovered real life girls. Not just the beautiful girls in movies but actual real life girls who lived in her town.

Dani was the first person to make her feel loved. Like she was worthy of more than just sex. And finally she began to feel comfortable with who she was. Who she really was. She no longer needed to prove herself one way or another. She didn't have secrets to keep or thoughts to numb.

Dani had saved her. But she'd also ruined her all over again.

And now here she was. Driving home alone to an array of responsibilities that in no way belonged to her, unlit cigarette in hand and an emptiness in her chest.

Santana was awake before her alarm started but she let it play anyway, not wanting to silence the room again. She'd spent the best part of the night fighting thoughts of Puck and Dani and anything related to feelings whatsoever. She'd been downstairs for snacks, water, extra blankets, clean socks, all at regular intervals just to avoid having her mind wander and now, at six thirty in the morning, she couldn't even bring herself to regret it.

She turned over and began to sit up, letting the blankets slip from her shoulders into an untidy pile on the mattress. As she pushed herself up, a pain in her hand made her flinch and she glanced down at it, noticing that there was a pale stain on the bandage that Brittany had so neatly applied the night before. "Gross." She mumbled, turning her palm back over and ignoring the throbbing sensation as she drifted out onto the balcony, grabbing the cigarette packet and lighter on her way.

She let herself lean against the railings, enjoying how the early morning sun settled and danced gently on the surface of the pool below. Placing the cigarette in her mouth, she lit it gently and inhaled until the back of her throat burned and her stomach tingled with familiar comfort. She held the smoke in for a few seconds longer than necessary and then released it slowly, watching it rise in thin wisps that quickly got caught up in the slight breeze, before disappearing into nothing. She glanced at her bandaged hand again, thoughts of the blonde girl creeping in and making her shudder. Brittany was sweet but she wouldn't allow herself to like her like that. She wasn't ready for that kind of inevitable pain yet. Not again. She frowned slightly at the bandage before shoving her hand into her loose sweatpants pocket, tired of seeing it and tired of thinking about it. She took a more forceful drag on the cigarette this time and prepared to release it.

"Santana?"

Natasha's voice floated through the open doors so unexpectedly that it had Santana jumping backwards into the edge of an outdoor table as the still lit cigarette fell from her fingers. She opened her mouth to yell or scream or anything but the forgotten smoke that was still trapped at the back of her throat forced its way out of her mouth all too quickly, making her choke fiercely into the crook of her elbow.

"Jesus, Nat." She coughed out, trying to catch her breath. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Were you… smoking?" The younger Lopez practically gasped, her voice rising at least an octave. Santana turned to see her sister standing just inside the bedroom, open mouthed and wide eyed.

Santana shook her head, searching for an explanation. "No, I…I'm just..."

Natasha's gazed was fixed on the light trail of smoke that was rising from the dropped cigarette.

"Santana, you said that people should never smoke because it kills them. Mom and Dad said that too. And the teachers at school!" The little girl sounded close to tears. As intelligent as she was for a ten year old, she was still ridiculously, childishly sensitive when it came to the wellbeing of people she loved.

"I don't smoke, Nat." She picked up the cigarette and stubbed it out in the nearest plant pot. "Not usually, anyway."

The little girl wasn't convinced.

"But I saw!" She said, an audible pout in her voice.

"I know you did. But I don't usually smoke, it just helps with the pain." She lied through gritted teeth, holding up her bandaged hand and eyeing the younger girl as subtly as she could, trying to figure out if she bought it or not.

The look on her face said not. Definitely not.

Santana internally fought with herself, trying to decide whether to expand on her bullshit explanation or whether a complete subject change would do the trick.

"Go find mom and ask if my uniform is clean." Santana said, walking back into the bedroom and pretending to be busy making her bed.

"She left already."

Santana sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, momentarily holding her head in her good hand. "Of course she did." She mumbled, rubbing at her tired eyes.

She felt the bed shift a little and a small arm encircled her waist. "Don't be sad, San." Natasha said, resting her head gently on her older sister's shoulder. "Mom can't help it if she has to work early."

For a second, Santana couldn't answer. There were poisonous words on the tip of her tongue but there was no way she'd say them in front of her ten year old sister. Natasha didn't need to know what Santana thought of their mother. She didn't need to know that work came before the two of them and she certainly didn't need to know that it was Santana who was responsible for the packed lunches laid out neatly in a pink sparkly box that Natasha took to school every day or that Santana was the one who folded her small clothes and put them into the correct drawers. Not her mother.

For some reason, Santana had been able to uphold the illusion that their mother was taking care of them for Natasha's sake for the past five years but the truth was, Santana was bringing up a ten year old and running a household and handling school all on her own.

"Please, San." Natasha prompted when the older girl didn't move. "I'll help you find your uniform and I can make my own breakfast."

Santana felt Natasha's fingers toying gently with her hair and she couldn't help but smile. "Cutie." She whispered, pulling her little sister into a hug. "But if you make your own breakfast, it'll be ice cream. So nice try, but no." She tickled her gently until the young Latina was giggling and begging to be let go.

Santana laughed too, feeling momentarily lighter. "Come on chica, we're gonna be late."

They were late. It had taken an excessive amount of time to find a pair of tights for Natasha and for a good half an hour, Santana's Cheerios uniform was nowhere to be seen. They'd found it eventually, in a crumpled heap in one of the spare bedrooms. Evidently it had been washed but instead of being returned to Santana's bedroom it had been discarded haphazardly, most likely after their mother had been called to a hospital emergency. So, while Natasha ate toast and sipped orange juice, Santana stood in her underwear, ironing the red and white garments, all while trying to eat a poptart without getting crumbs everywhere.

A whole hour later, both girls were dressed and ready to go. Santana had reeled off a mental check list in her head as they'd dashed out to the car. Dogs fed, yep. Iron switched off, yeah. School books in school bags and packed lunches packed, yes.

The traffic had been slow and by the time Santana had dropped her younger sister off at a school over fifteen minutes away from her own, she was forced to saunter into Glee club forty minutes late pretending like she hadn't just had the morning from hell. She'd forced several smiles in the duration of the morning. She'd smiled when Quinn had rambled something about babies to her and she'd smiled when Mr Schuester complimented her solo. She'd even accidentally smiled at Rachel Berry at one point, only to quickly realise her mistake and correct herself promptly with an empty insult.

By Cheerios practise that afternoon, she was all out of fake happiness. The lack of sleep was catching up on her and she'd found herself stumbling her way through most of the routines, making the same mistakes over and over until finally, Coach Sue told them they could leave.

Of course, practise had run over by an hour and a half. And of course Santana had had to call her mom, asking her to pick Natasha up from school. That was something she very rarely did. To drag her mom away from her precious work was literally the worst thing she could possibly do, apparently. But sometimes she had no choice and sometimes she just didn't care. Today she didn't care. She was busy. And besides, seeing her mom at the school gates would make Natasha's day so Santana refused to let herself feel bad about it.

In fact, she'd refused to let herself feel anything all day.

She'd ignored the ever present Puck, she'd ignored comments about Dani and she'd ignored the constant throbbing in her hand. She'd ignored everything until she was sat in her car, driving to the last place on earth she wanted to be. Brittany's house.

When she pulled the car to a stop outside, she saw the curtains in the upstairs window move slightly, followed by the switching on of one light, and then another, and another until the lights marked out Brittany's journey from her bedroom to the front door.

Santana grabbed her bag in her good hand and left the safety of her car, sighing dejectedly as she did. She smoothed out her skirt quickly and glanced up to see the blonde girl stood in the half open doorway, illuminated by the light behind her. Her hair was loose and fell over her shoulders in soft waves. It looked pretty and Santana caught herself staring as she walked towards her. Brittany smiled.

"Hi." She said, opening the door a little wider. "Come on in."

"Hi. Thanks." Santana mumbled and began to squeeze past the taller girl, trying not to hit her with her bag. The doorway really wasn't wide enough for two people. For a brief moment, Santana's back was pressed up against Brittany's side and the Latina's breath caught in her throat. She wasn't great with physical contact.

"Sorry." Brittany said, a smile still audible in her voice. She moved back a little more, eventually allowing Santana to free herself from the small space. Thank god.

"S'okay." Santana said, trying her best to be polite.

"Wanna come upstairs?" Brittany asked brightly.

"Uh, sure."

The blonde girl smiled and turned to bound up the stairs, long legs taking two steps at a time. Santana watched for a second, mesmerized by the fluidity of the movement before realising that she should probably follow instead of gawking like an idiot. She shook herself mentally, telling herself to get a grip.

Brittany led them into a large room filled with blues and pinks and fairy lights and rainbows. Santana's idea of hell. But to her surprise, the sight of the room didn't instantly make her feel like she wanted to throw up all over it. It was warm and smelled of sugar and she actually kinda liked it.

"Cute room."

"Thanks. I decorated it myself." Brittany smiled again and Santana found herself wanting to stare. But she resisted the urge and instead settled herself on the edge of the neatly made bed. She accidentally pressed her sore hand against the covers and winced instinctively.

"Still sore?" Brittany asked, genuine concern in her voice.

Santana shook her head. "Only a little."

The blonde, leaning against the end of the bed, didn't seem convinced.

"Kept you up all night, didn't it?"

"What? No." Santana dropped her gaze and fiddled with the pleats in her skirt.

Brittany giggled. "Liar."

"Whatever." Santana said, much more softly than she intended and somehow, a small smile had formed on her lips. She cleared her throat and looked at the blonde again. "Ready to get your study on?"

The blonde nodded enthusiastically and practically leapt onto the bed next to Santana. The Latina rolled her eyes playfully and began pulling various textbooks out of her bag.

"Let's start with algebra."

An hour later, Santana was resting against the pillows, legs folded underneath her as she watched Brittany work through a page of basic algebra questions. They'd been over the simple rules more times than she cared to count and the peaceful silence that had settled itself in the room was making her increasingly sleepy. She yawned quietly and smiled as Brittany chewed on her pen, a look of deep concentration etched into her pretty features.

"You good?" Santana asked.

The blonde only nodded, keeping her eyes on the page.

"Okay." Santana whispered, unable to keep the smile out of her voice. She didn't know why, but being here with Brittany had her all kinda of relaxed. She hadn't thought of her mom or her homework or Natasha for at least an hour. Her mind was quiet and all she had to was occupy herself with watching the blonde girl learn new things.

She yawned again, louder this time.

Brittany looked up from her algebra. "Someone's sleepy."

Santana shrugged. "It's just been a long day."

"Do you wanna go home?"

"God, no." The Latina mumbled before she could stop herself. Brittany raised her eyebrows in mild surprise. "I mean, no. I'm good."

Brittany shrugged and put her pen down.

"So, you're a cheerleader?" The blonde asked, gesturing at Santana's red and white uniform.

"How did you guess?" Santana quipped, smiling a little to let Brittany know she was kidding. But apparently, the smile didn't make it clear enough.

"I didn't." Brittany started. "I noticed your calf muscles the other day and thought you might be a dancer. But I couldn't figure out where you danced because I hadn't seen you at competitions before, so I was gonna ask you today but now it all makes sense."

Santana raised her eyebrows playfully. "You noticed my calf muscles?" She made sure to punctuate the question with a small laugh, hoping that Brittany wouldn't notice the blush in her cheeks. And she sure as hell hoped she wouldn't notice how the thought of Brittany noticing something about her made her fidget nervously with the edge of her skirt.

"Yeah." Brittany shrugged, blissfully unaware.

"Cool." Santana said as calmly as possible. "Now quit drooling over my legs and get back to your algebra, blondie."

Brittany giggled, a sound that Santana was quickly beginning to crave, before returning to her work.

Santana rested her head back against the pillows and let a smile pull at the corners of her mouth. Here we go again, she thought.

Brittany got stuck on a particularly difficult algebraic expansion question. She chewed on her pen, trying to remember what to do with the brackets and what not to do with them and whether she needed brackets at all. She messed around with it for a minute or two, arranging and rearranging before coming to the conclusion that she was gonna need some help on this one.

She glanced up to get Santana's attention but the Latina's eyes were closed and her breathing had slowed into a gentle, relaxed rhythm. She looked peaceful but her high pony meant that her neck was positioned awkwardly against the pillow.

Brittany smiled a little and got up as carefully as she could, trying not to move the bed. She leant over Santana and gently slipped the tie from her hair, letting it fall loosely against the baby pink pillow. She looked like a mermaid, Brittany thought. A really, really pretty mermaid.

She pulled a blanket from the trunk at the end of the bed and laid it over the sleeping brunettes' legs, not wanting her to get cold. Just as she was making sure it was neat, she heard a key turn in the door. Her breath caught in her throat and she sprung back form the bed, not knowing whether to pretend she wasn't in or to go downstairs and distract her mom sooner rather than later.

She listened to the front door open and suddenly her name was being called. She flinched, hoping that the noise wouldn't wake Santana and crept out of the room as quietly as she could, closing the door softly behind her.

"Coming!" She replied as her mom called out her name again. The older blonde was unloading grocery bag in the kitchen. "Hi." Brittany said, leaning against the door frame.

"Hi, sweetie. Have you eaten yet?"

"Yeah." The younger blonde lied.

"I was hoping you'd say that." The woman smiled, "I need you to go grab your bed sheets. Think it's about time we washed some of that Lord Tubbington fur off of them, don't you?"

Brittany started at her mother for a second, mouth slightly agape. Out of all the things she could've been asked to do, why did it have to be that? Why couldn't she wash the dishes or vacuum the living room instead?

"I can't." Brittany said, not being able to think of a convincing lie quickly enough.

"Of course you can! Go on up now, it won't take a minute."

Brittany bit her lip and stared down at her feet, not daring to lie again but also not daring to tell the truth.

"Brittany." Her mother started, "I know that face. What have you done? Have you spilled the bubblegum soda all over the sheets again? Honestly, Brittany, what have I told you about taking that blue stuff up to your room? It's an absolute nightmare to get those stains out."

"It's not that." Brittany mumbled.

"What is it then? Has Lord Tubbington peed on it? That cat, I swear to god-"

"No, mom." Brittany cut her off. "It's nothing like that."

"Well I suggest you enlighten me then." The older blonde said, eyebrows raised.

Brittany sighed.

"There's a sleeping girl in my room."

"A what? For a second there I thought you said there was a sleeping girl in your room." The woman laughed, pushing a carton of milk into the only spare space in the refrigerator.

Brittany didn't answer, she was too intent on staring at her own feet.

"Brittany?" Her mother pushed, quirking an eyebrow.

The younger blonde sighed again, defeated. "There's a sleeping girl in my bedroom. She came over after school to hangout and she fell asleep. That's all."

"Do we know this girl? Or did you just pick her out of a crowd and ask her to come home with you?"

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean, yes we know her. She's Natasha's sister and I met her last night when I went to their house for dinner. She's nice and we just wanted to hang out."

The older blonde shook her head. "You met her for the first time last night and you've already invited her into our home?"

Brittany could only shrug.

"And she's apparently so comfortable here already that she's now asleep in your bedroom?"

"She was tired." Brittany defended the brunette. This wasn't her fault.

Just then, there was a voice in the doorway behind her.

"Why do I get the feeling I'm being talked about?"

The blonde turned to see Santana entering the kitchen, her now loose hair hanging in waves almost down to her waist. She wore a polite smile on her face and extended her hand towards Brittany's mom.

"Santana Lopez, nice to meet you." The Latina's voice was so effortlessly smooth that it literally made the hairs on the back of Brittany's neck stand up. "My little sister dances with your daughter," Santana says, sending a quick 'I got this' glance to the Brittany. "We invited her over for dinner last night and she thought it was only fair to repay the favour tonight."

The older blonde could only nod, seemingly transfixed by the girl who stood before her. Santana had managed to completely change the atmosphere of the room within a matter of seconds. Woah.

"You have a lovely home." Santana finished, flipping her hair gently out of her face.

"Thank you," The woman said, a little flustered by just how polite Santana was. "You're very welcome here any time."

Santana nodded her thanks and then turned to Brittany. "I really should get going. Thanks for inviting me, Britt."

The use of her pet name made Brittany's breath catch in her throat. "You're welcome," She managed to say. "I'll see you out."

She led Santana out to the front door and watched as the Latina picked up her bag.

"Thank you." Brittany whispered, not wanting her mom to overhear.

"For the algebra?"

Brittany nodded. "And for saving my ass in there."

Santana shrugged it off, a small smile playing with the corners of her mouth. "Any time, blondie. I'll call you, okay?"

"Okay." Brittany smiled, knowing that Santana must have gotten her number from Natasha. Cute.

"Okay." Santana repeated, not quite ready to leave but she forced herself to turn around and walk back to her car.

As she pulled away, she let herself glance in the mirror. This time, the blonde girl hadn't disappeared into the house. She was still standing there, illuminated by the light from within the house. The reflections of their eyes met briefly and that was all it took. She was falling already, way too quickly and she didn't know how to stop.

Or maybe she just didn't want to.

Thanks for reading, guys :) Feedback helps so much so please review if you can.

xoxo