A/N: Hey guys! I'm sorry it took me so long to update. I used the hiatus to get some work done. From now on the updates will be more frequent. Also, as much as I love angst I won't keep this dark forever. Let's not forget Lea is throwing a party soon. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I was flattered that you guys missed this. Thank you all!
7. Looking back
For the first time, in the last few weeks, arriving home felt heavenly. She let her buzzed body sunk on the couch, the pang in her chest never ceasing. She lit the candles on the coffee table, turning off the lamp next to her. The soft smell of flowers surrounded her in short minutes and in the darkness she let fresh tears fall. The warmth of her house slowly eased her nerves, but the sadness kept rolling down her cheeks, staining her makeup on their way.
She couldn't deny it anymore, although maybe she should. Did it really matter? Pretending wasn't stopping the tears from falling.
She still felt something. Something she shouldn't feel for anyone but her boyfriend.
Something, she heard herself whisper as a scornful laugh vibrated on her didn't begin to define it.
That realization wasn't new to her, it didn't feel foreign or shocking, just heavy and painful. She thought it was under control. How could she have been so clueless?
The girl's face invaded her mind. Brown eyes, a button nose and cute tiny ears covered in massive dark locks. Heather gripped her shirt, pulling the neckline as if it suffocated her. A sob rang through her lips. She covered her mouth desperately, closing her eyes firmly trying to stop the ragged sound.
She couldn't go on like this. She couldn't come home to her boyfriend of two years – more if she counted those on and off periods – who was ready to share a life with her, a life they chose, and sob her heart out for someone else. Someone she called a best friend. A girl she claimed to want to see be happy. And she did, she wholeheartedly did. But it hurt. It hurt seeing her with that guy. She knew this would happen, eventually. But a vague idea was nothing like watching it happen. It didn't matter if that guy was just a fling or her newly found soul mate. Well, that was a lie. The second option would kill her right now. But whichever it was, the simple fact that he was out there, having a date with her, kissing her as much as he wanted to, wherever he wanted to – it made her irrationally envious, but worse than that, she had never felt so alone.
Feeling a blush wash over her face as her selfishness ashamed her, Heather let her head fall to her knees, gripping her ankles tightly. She didn't want to sit there and think about it. She wanted to go to her room, hug her boyfriend and sleep. Sleep and forget. Convince her mind to go back to its aloof state, to the forced belief that everything was as it should be. But she couldn't move. Slowly taking a breath, she watched the flick of light from the candles make patterns on the carpet under her feet while her tears pooled on the cotton of her leggings.
The hardest she tried to keep those thoughts from her head the worst the pain in her chest got. She pressed her palms to her eyes, her hands cornered between her face and knees. She was shaking. She tried to swallow the knot in her throat but it wouldn't leave and now her hands were shaking too and she had to press her face harder against her legs, feeling her skin soaking as her heart ripped apart.
She remembered being scared before. Being scared of what was happening to her and Naya. If only she knew she would feel like this by playing it safe. This wasn't safe. This wasn't comforting. This was the most frightened she had ever felt. Would it always hurt like this? Would she ever stop crying? Was her carefully constructed life going to crash upon her so rapidly by the mere image of a freaking kiss on a freaking date?
It used to be so easy with her. The talks by the fireplace while drinking wine, lying on the carpet, the same carpet that was now facing her with mocking peacefulness. And the walks on the weekend, those insane sprints in the park that Naya complained so much about but never skipped one. The movie nights cuddling on Naya's couch watching whatever movie because there was nothing they couldn't have fun with. The shopping sprees where they would try the most insane clothes and laugh until their bellies hurt. Their date nights on Fridays, when Heather would playfully court Naya until they ended up sleeping over and having breakfast at noon – just coffee and donuts, because that's what Naya always felt like having.
How naïve to think they could go on playing house without things ever changing.
For so long Heather didn't care how others saw their relationship. She zoned out the innuendo behind their friend's comments. She rolled her eyes at her roommate's assumptions. She shrugged off her mother's worry. It was like nothing got to her. She didn't need those voices in her head because she and Naya understood each other perfectly. Their world was theirs and no one else was allowed in, until she let them. Whatever they were, it suited them and no one else could define them - until she let them.
And when she did, she panicked. She never voiced it. Not to her roommate, not to her mom, not to Naya. She saw this future, this unknown dangerous future and she knew she couldn't stay on that road. No, she had to go back. She had to backpedal fast and reach that point before the line had been crossed.
There was too much to lose. Most of all, she could lose her.
So when she saw him, such a goofball, such a simple, nonthreatening kind of guy, she was sure that's what she wanted. She had feelings for him. They were different now, it wasn't like before, but there was still that tenderness of a past love. If they worked she could build a family, without all the loss that the other road might cause. If they didn't work, she would find someone else. It wasn't a death sentence, it wasn't life-altering. She could get over him. That made it seem so logical. So perfect. He was attractive - her body didn't complain. It didn't feel alien to her to be intimate with him again. He was sporty, he liked being outdoors, he was lively - he was just like her. They were simple together and they had fun. Her family loved him and with him she didn't panic. Nothing made her panic about him. What else could she possibly want?
It took them a while, Naya and her. She smothered the girl with teenage lovesick rambling's until brown eyes stopped watering at the reference, until teeth stopped pressing against plump lips, until she stopped looking away. Heather wasn't proud of it. She wasn't proud of ignoring her every impulse to keep pressing until they really talked about it. She wasn't proud of shutting the burning feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her to hug the girl instead of stabbing the open wound. But she had to be sure she saved them. She had to be sure she erased the past before it was too late.
And up until now she thought she had succeeded.
Naya grew distant for a while, spending more time with everyone else in the face of the earth than with Heather. Sleeping with Mark again, making out with random girls in her frequent trips to New York. Naya didn't tell her about it, but Telly wouldn't keep his mouth shut. Heather had a feeling he was testing her, but she never stopped him. She wanted to know, no matter how much her lungs ached with every word.
It took a while, yes. But they were back. They could still read each other like no one else, they were still as in sync as two separate beings could be, and slowly they started being them again. Never fully, but close enough. But maybe even that had been too much. Maybe once they started, Heather would never be able to stop herself in time. And now here she was.
It was one thing to know about some faceless person Naya sucked faced with. Or know about Mark, who Heather knew would never have her heart. But this new guy, popping out of nowhere, with a very real face, and very real hands, and very real lips. It was different. It kicked her walls down. Now she could see everything she was avoiding.
She may not understand Naya or what goes on behind those brown eyes, because as much as she knows that girl, when it came to them Heather was lost as soon as their lips touched for the first time. But her own mood swings, her guilt, the sinking feeling that seemed to grow heavier these past few weeks - all of that was invading her mind with a clarity she refused until now. While tears blurred her vision, she felt she could finally see everything she had been closing her eyes to. And it was horrifying.
There was a reason she chose to shut off her feelings. There was a reason for not thinking about it. People always asked her what made her different from her character Brittany, but she could only think of what made them similar. Brittany didn't acknowledge the world like the others. She lived in her own world. Aloof. But unlike Brittany, Heather didn't choose a magical world to believe in, she didn't go with her gut, she didn't challenge Santana. Heather chose the world without magic, without butterflies and burning chests. She chose the world she could count on, with no surprises and no risks. She could be her happiest there, she was sure of it. But the claws ripping her heart apart and the air that refused to be welcomed by her clenching chest, the water that would not cease its trail down her face, making her eyes swell and her nose turn a bright shade of red, her numbs limbs that sank her further into the couch, they didn't seem sure of it at all.
With a growl of pain she stood up, facing the door like a kid when their parents forget to leave the hallway light on. She trailed the path to the front door under the darkness. She would be lying if she didn't admit she was scared to death, but there was someone she needed to see right now, and the fear of treading this path was nothing compared to the agonizing pain inside her.
She looked at her car, knowing she wasn't capable of driving, not just for the state she was in but because of the alcohol still in her system. And she couldn't face the memories again. If she hadn't relieved them, in some stupid urge to be back in their bubble, she would probably be sleeping right now. The pain dulled by a night's rest. Instead she had stayed on the sidewalk until their friends were gone and entered her car, letting the past take over her present.
The cab came to a full stop. She hadn't even realized she had gotten into one, much less given an address. Her shaking hands handed the money to the old men who looked at her with a mix of worry and repulsion.
I must look terrific.
She slowly took the steps to the front entrance and rang the bell twice. After a while she heard the faint sound of footsteps nearing the door, probably wondering what kind of freak thought visiting at practically 4 a.m. would be appropriate.
The peephole darkened and in a second the door opened completely, revealing a bed-haired brunette, still half in a daze as her eyes took on Heather's state.
"Heather? What's wrong?"
There was a pause. Heather felt fresh tears in her eyes as an overwhelming relief flooded her. There was no place she would rather be right now.
