So it's not like I have two fanfics in progress or anything, but this is what happens when you're at work and you have 'Landslide' on repeat.
The style of Landslide I aspires to that of lajeunefilleenfleur, author of The Only True Paradises and Pas de Deux. Landslide II tries to imitate venuscomb, who writes the best Brittany S. Pierce in the world. Her fic can be found at venuscomb [dot] tumblr [dot] com.
Landslide
I. Mirror in the Sky (Santana)
It was a dream that you only remember part of; but if you hadn't woken up when it was clearest in your head, it would have all faded away like your nights usually do: melting into too-bright mornings that bombarded you with everything that you never bothered dreaming of because they were already real.
Someone was asking you a riddle in the dream. And you don't remember who it was or why it was being asked. You only remembered the question, which makes no sense now that you're awake, but when you were asleep, it was the clearest question you've ever been asked in your life.
In the dream, you turned your head. Brittany was looking at you. You looked back at her, as if you were expecting her to answer it in your stead. Riddles are her kind of question, after all.
You looked at her, and you saw that her eyes were blue without clouds. You looked harder and you could see yourself in them. Not just the convex reflection of your face, but all of you and everything you never wanted to show anyone else but her. It remained in her eyes even after you looked away, like you filled her and still there would always be enough room for you.
And then it didn't matter who was asking the riddle or why you were the one being asked, because you knew the answer; you were never so sure of an answer in your life.
You sat up straight with the confidence that comes with knowing and you let the answer fall off the tip of your tongue.
Your voice woke you up.
II. Snow-Covered Hills (Brittany)
Your love hangs on the wall of my heart, Santana, like the warmest coat that protects me when it gets cold in the winter.
You left it hanging there, on the clotheshook, when we were too young to know what it meant. I let you keep it there, and pretty soon we acted like it was mine because you never took it back. But for a long time I wasn't sure if you really meant for it to be mine, because you always told me that just because you left it there, with me, it didn't mean anything. And I was confused, because it had to mean something. That you trusted me with it? Maybe? I didn't know, back then. I loved it anyway, because it was yours.
Even when we were farthest away from each other, it was still with me. When I let Artie inside, he didn't even blink when he saw it. If he saw it. He obviously thought it was mine. I still didn't know for certain, but I let him believe that. It was easier than telling him it was yours.
You couldn't stay away, though. You came back. And I always let you. Every time, I thought that it had to be the last time, because it was cheating, after all. Every time should have been the time that you were finally going to take what was yours and leave an empty place on the wall of my heart. A place that was never empty after I first met you.
And then you cried, when you finally told me it was mine. You cried and you were angry and hurt; you made both of us feel like I was the one making you leave (although you were the one who left, I just let you because I knew there was no way I could make you stay).
When you left, I went back inside my heart to think about what we did wrong and then I saw it, your love still hanging there. For a moment I thought you'd forgotten to take it with you again, until I remembered. You told me that it's mine now. It hung there for so long, and maybe it started off on accident, but now you've told me that you meant to keep it there all along. It's the truth because you looked me in the eye when you said it. I know you always look away from me when you lie.
Santana, I'll take your love. I'll take it down; I'll put it on, I'll wrap it around me. It'll keep me warm and protect me when I climb the mountains, the ones I have to climb before we find each other again.