"Sorry, I don't stalk bitches," Santana said softly, albeit it did not diminish the rage in her voice.
"Christ, why can't you just do me a favour and stay away from me?" Brittany quipped angrily.
"I don't want to scare you, or give you the idea that I am stalking you, so please, don't make me say something I would regret," Santana said as patiently as she could muster. This girl is really getting into her nerves.
"I want you to get out of here. Now," Brittany said.
"No, I've got as much rights to stay here as much as you do," Santana said proudly.
"Jesus Christ, what do I have to do just to make you go away," Brittany half-yelled through the morning air.
"Look, maybe we got on the wrong foot here, let me start fresh, okay…" Santana said softly, her voice flat and nonchalant, the kind of voice she uses when she's totally pissed off. Well, she was…she was actually, royally, seriously pissed.
"Explanation, please…" Brittany said with an annoying voice that Santana squirmed.
She might as well end this and stay out of the girl's way. Besides, she still needed this boat ride.
"I was sket-"
"What is this thing?" Brittany grabbed her sketch pad, which had actually had taken her attention.
"Uh, that's a sketch pad," Santana answered. "So, I really wasn't ogling at you, or leering or anything at you I was…trying to uhh…sketch you," suddenly Santana felt so embarrassed.
"What?" Brittany looked up from the sketch pad where she was so invested in.
"Uhh, I was…" Santana crossed her fingers. She's not really that expressive about her love for art, and she'd just like to keep it to herself rather than yell it out to the world.
"You were sketching me!" Brittany said in surprise as she held up the page where she saw herself.
"Yeah, uhh…that's why I was…looking at you," Santana bent here head. "It's actually, bad."
"No, in fact, you are actually good. I think you have good hands," Brittany smiled. It was the first time Santana had seen her smile at her, and the blonde was so beautiful when she smiles.
Santana gave out a smile back. "I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, too," Brittany said softly. "I hope you don't label me as a bitch."
"It's okay. So, no more hard feelings okay?" Santana said as she held out a hand.
"No hard feelings," Brittany took the hand, However, when their skins made contact, Brittany was sure that there was a bolt of electricity between them. She just can't figure out why, but she feels something about the brunette.
Something that scares her so much.
As they shook hands, Santana looked at her eyes. They morphed into dark blue to lavender as they were hit by the sunrise. Finally, they let go of each other's hands and settled in silence for long minutes.
"So, do you sell them?" Brittany gestured at her drawings.
"No, I just draw them," Santana smiled.
"Really, I love the art. But, well…I'm really not that, well…let's just say art doesn't like me very much," Brittany smiled. "You work here, do you?"
"Actually, yeah, this was the first time I came with the ship," Santana replied, her eyes glued into the clouds that were chased by the sun.
"Wow," Brittany said softly. "How does it feel, working around here?"
"I don't know," Santana said with all honesty. "As a deck washer, I get to sleep under the stars."
"Is that why I always see you here? Because you sleep outside?"
"You always see me because you always stay here. I work here at the deck," Santana said.
"The deck is my favourite place," Brittany looked at her, her face a little bit more warm and friendly.
"So I guess I'd be seeing you around then," Santana eased on her chair and looked up towards the upper deck, where she saw Dave standing, pulling out ropes. "Sorry, I have to go."
"Yeah, sure," Brittany nodded. Somehow, over the past minutes that she had spent with Santana, she felt…at ease, yet very excited. It's as if her heart had been in a race or it's like her whole self had been put into a new environment…and a promising one.
She watched Santana's sinewy back as the brunette ran up the stairs and helped her friend. Of course, she had to go back to the suite and have breakfast. Then, maybe she would go out, see some of her friends, take a walk. She just needs to do something to consume her time and keep her away from boredom now that Sam is gone.
"Morning, mom…" Brittany walked past her mother, who was drinking coffee.
"Good morning," Anne Pierce smiled.
"Good morning, Brittany. How was your morning walk?" her father asked her from the den.
"Awesome," Brittany smiled as she went into the kitchen and foraged it for her breakfast.
She sat on the ledge of their suite, nibbling at a strawberry and occasionally twiddling her spoon into the oatmeal in her bowl. Her eyes travelled on the long aisles down below, on the second class travellers.
They did not fail to find a certain figure in khaki pants and grey shirt, pushing out a trolley from an inside alley. And then the figure looked up and smiled at Brittany.
It was Santana.
For a moment, Brittany felt her heart drop. She did not react, she just kind of floated there, suspended and waiting. It's as if her mind had just blacked out and the circuits in her brain stopped running.
And it was all because of the brunette smiling at her far down below the ledge she was sitting on.
She snapped back to reality and saw the brunette, but her smile had faded. She stood up and looked at her, and even in the great distance, she could see Santana's eyes, cheery warm and…loving.
Or is that what she wanted to see?
She smiled and waved at Santana, who waved back at her and her face lighting up. Then, Santana disappeared into a corner. Suddenly, Brittany felt a painful longing…something that she had never felt before. She felt as if she wanted to see Santana again, though it was just a few seconds ago since the brunette faded from her sight.
Realization dawned on her.
She's awfully attracted to the young Hispanic.
"No, that can't be," she said out aloud as the first bite of guilt sunk deep into her heart.
"What?" her mother appeared on the doorway. "Are you alright?"
"Nothing, mom…" she replied worriedly shook her head and tried to shake off the nagging feeling that she was feeling. She felt attracted to Santana, but there was Sam. She should be only thinking of Sam, and no one else.
"Are you okay? You seem like a little troubled," her mother said in an evaluative tone.
"It's nothing, really. Have Charlotte pick up the dishes," she said as she moved back to her room. Anne followed her and sat with her on the bed.
"I don't think you're actually alright, Brittany. You never hide anything from me," Anne said. "You just never could."
Guilt washed over her. Why was she thinking of falling in love with Santana? It's not rational. She shouldn't be doing it. She was supposed to marry Sam Evans in nine days, there is no such thing that could happen to her.
But it was actually happening to her. The more she thought of it, the more she felt certain that she is falling in love with Santana.
"Brittany?" her mother looked at her expectedly.
Brittany did not answer and just sat by the bed. She couldn't just tell her parents she's backing out on her wedding. Besides, she doesn't even know if Santana was also attracted to her. She's maybe just overthinking it.
Anne sensed her daughter's hesitation. The elder woman scooted behind Brittany and smiled as she stroked the silky blonde hair.
The two women stayed like in the position for long minutes, with Anne gently stroking the blonde's hair. Comfortable silence hovered above them, making Brittany feel safe and secured.
She needs to tell her frustrations to someone. Someone that she herself could trust. And as if Anne Pierce had been reading her like a book, the old woman said out softly.
"You can tell me anything, dear. You can trust me,"
Brittany took it as her cue. She shifted her weight on the mattress and looked up to her mother. "Do you believe in love at first sight?"
Anne Pierce took a deep breath and continued on stroking the golden threads. There was a moment of silence as Anne took her time to answer.
"You have to go beyond romance. Because romance, it's easy…true love is not," Anne smiled softly.
Brittany turned away from her mother's face as she reconsidered the answer. True love…she wouldn't know. Maybe it's Sam…probably.
Or it could be Santana.
It couldn't be Santana.
She's in love with Santana.
She's with Sam. She's going to get married.
She feels so happy with Sam.
She wants to know Santana. She wants to be part of her life.
Brittany did not choose anything or anyone. Not for the moment. She just curled into a ball and struggled to bring herself back to sleep.
