A/N: I do not own Glee, Santana or Sebastian.
Hello! Firstly, thank you again, so much for all your fantastic reviews :D they really do mean the world to me!
I'm updating this pretty quickly because I'm going away in a couple of days for a week & I wanted you guys to have something before I go :)
So hopefully I'll be able to come back to lots of wonderful reviews *hint hint*
This chapter is quite a bit shorter than the others, but nevertheless, I hope you like it equally and enjoy what I've put together.
Thanks again for reading this story + hope to hear from you all sooooon...
Chapter 8 - my make-up may be flaking
They had begun a new routine. Each day when Rosemary left the house Santana and Sebastian found themselves in bed together, starting the day by waking each other up with some morning exercise. They drove each other crazy, making each other feel alive and on fire. Santana craved his touch and his caress and even the way he held her close when they were done.
Once, something like this had been unthinkable but here they were, lying in each other's arms, clothes discarded on the floor and this being the norm. When once they had struggled to say two words to each other, whether pleasantries or otherwise, now they could lie for a whole day talking to each other without concern.
She felt at peace in his arms, a peace she had been searching for for some years now and she wondered if it was possible that Sebastian might be filling a void that she had been stuck with for a long time.
One afternoon, they were lazing between the sheets, drifting in and out of a lethargic slumber. Sebastian was tracing circles on Santana's bare arm as she rested her head on his naked chest, snoozing slightly as she lay there.
"Santana?" murmured Sebastian, into her dark, tangled locks.
"Mmm?" Santana sighed in return, refusing to open her eyes, feeling satisfied and peaceful.
"Why is it just your dad and grandma at home?" asked Sebastian holding his breath in for her response.
Santana's eyes snapped open and she sat up sharply.
"What?" She asked Sebastian, turning to face him.
"I just," Sebastian shrugged, looking at her imploringly, "I wondered."
Santana sighed heavily and took his hands in hers, playing with his fingers to distract herself.
Finally she looked up, bit her lip and began to speak.
"My mother died when I was eleven. She was a strong, brave and beautiful woman and she was taken from us far too early."
Tears began to drizzle down Santana's cheeks and Sebastian fought the urge to lean over and wipe them away with a soft caress.
"My father found it so difficult to cope with that my abuela had to move in to help look after me and Anthony. Even when Anthony left for college and I was growing older and feistier by the minute she still never left. Maybe she didn't want to live alone anymore or maybe she didn't want to leave papa alone. She just stayed there."
A slight smile grew on Santana's face but it could not wipe the sadness from her eyes. She swallowed thickly and brushed the tears from her face with the back of her hand.
"What was it?" murmured Sebastian softly.
"An ectopic pregnancy. I didn't understand it at the time; I just had to be told that my mother and my new baby sibling had both died in complications. When I got older, my father explained it to me properly but even the true explanation can't make it any better."
Sebastian bit his lip and shifted closer, wrapping her up in his arms. He allowed Santana to sob into his shoulder, the salty tears making patterns down his chest. He rocked her gently, comforting her as she cried and cried.
"I'm sorry," She muttered into his skin, "I haven't cried like this in a long time."
"It's okay," Sebastian replied, a half-smile creeping onto his face, "I think you're allowed. You can cry for as long as you need."
He continued to hold her and rock her until her sobs subsided and she was simply content to stay in his hold and rest there.
"She would be so proud of you today San," Sebastian told her, speaking into her dark hair again.
"I know." Santana admitted, looking up at him with a bereaving smile. "I've always known."
She sank back into his arms and lay in the sheets, gazing up at the canopy, sniffing sporadically. Sebastian continued to trace circles and stroke her hair. They didn't have to be anybody but themselves when they were lying in bed together. They didn't have to be enemies or in a falsified engagement.
Although, Sebastian thought as the days turned into weeks and weeks became months, perhaps marrying Santana would not be such a bad thing. The girl he had loathed in high school was more like him than he had thought. She hurt just as much as he did inside and had created a hard exterior to protect herself and that was what had made her the way she had been in high school. She had suffered – far more than he, when he considered it – but she knew what it was like to be lonely. He had never thought back then that she would be the kind of girl that made him laugh and smile and feel lighter inside than he ever had been.
He had grown up in solitude and feeling isolated from everyone but being with Santana made him feel much less alone than he had before.
As the wedding drew closer, Sebastian began to feel like maybe, just maybe, this was a life he could actually envisage himself living. Could he and Santana have a viable future together when their past was so messed up? But then, they had had equally disorientated pasts without the other by their side and now, having her with him, made it seem like that past where he was such a disappointment was so far away.
Santana awoke one morning to find that Sebastian wasn't in the house. She checked in all the rooms but he was nowhere to be found.
"Jacques?" asked Santana, wandering into the kitchen, "Have you seen Sebastian?"
"No…" the chef shook his head and eyed her knowingly, "I thought he was with you."
Santana flushed slightly and coughed, "I haven't seen him this morning."
"Neither have I. Mrs Smythe left the house rather early and Sebastian didn't make an appearance. Have you tried his room? Perhaps he's still asleep?" asked Jacques, shrugging.
"He's not there." Santana sighed and sank into a breakfast stool.
"He'll turn up," laughed the chef, as though Sebastian were a lost toy, "In the meantime, can I make anything for you?"
Santana nodded and permitted Jacques to prepare an omelette for her, all the while wondering where Sebastian could be.
A couple of hours later when Santana had put in a girly DVD to watch - a concept which Sebastian had flat our refused her previously - that she had brought from home, from the times she went to visit her father, the door slammed shut and Sebastian called out her name.
"Santana? You here?"
She paused the film and marched out of the room to find him stood in the hallway in a crisp grey suit with a smile on his face.
She raised an eyebrow at him and said quizzically, "Where have you been?"
Sebastian beamed at her and replied happily but with an unmistakeable air of his old smugness, "I got a job."
"What?" Santana eyed Sebastian questioningly and furrowed her eyebrows, "Explain." She demanded.
"Well I was thinking that for after we're married, my father was right, that I do need to be able to support you. And we should get our own house instead of living here forever. Besides, it's time for me to officially step out of his shadow." Sebastian paused dramatically whilst Santana attempted to process everything he had just said. "So I went down to Westerville Magazine, where Judy works, and spoke to the Editor in Chief, Andrew Blackwell, about making an investment to the magazine and whilst I was there I gave him my résumé. He offered me a job on the spot."
Sebastian shrugged, a small smile spreading across his face.
"What?" Santana cried, jumping up and down, "That's amazing!"
Sebastian shrugged again and said, "I'm sure in part it was because of my father, but if he's just a stone I have to step on to get where I want to be then so be it. Andrew put me in the Marketing department and I start next week."
Santana leapt into his arms and he spun her around kissing her lightly on the mouth as he lowered her down.
"Wow," breathed Santana, "I can't believe this is all really happening."
"Believe it." Sebastian grinned again, loosening his tie.
"Are you serious?" asked Santana cautiously, looking at him deeply in the eye.
"Every word." Sebastian confirmed, going to sit on the stairs and stretch out.
"Even the bit about 'our own house' and 'after we're married'?" inquired Santana, moving to sit beside him.
Sebastian faltered for a moment before saying, "Well, yes." He sighed heavily and pressed on, "Every day I'm finding myself falling more and more in love with you Santana. And I know it's not what either of us expected but it happened. So yes, I do want to marry you and have a life with you. But if that's not what you want, then don't feel any pressure to agree to it."
"Sebastian," Santana murmured, looking up at him, "That's exactly what I want. I don't know when or how it happened but I can't imagine a future now without you in it."
"So we're really going to do this?" asked Sebastian, taking Santana's hand in his and fingering the engagement ring lightly.
"I think so," Santana whispered, holding his hand more tightly.
She looked down at the ring that had once felt uncomfortable and heavy and had been a representation of everything she hated about her situation. But now, as it glinted in the sunlight, she couldn't imagine not wearing this ring and not loving the man who had given it to her.
The door handle rattled and it swung open to reveal Rosemary. She entered the house to see Santana resting her head on her son's shoulder, gripping his arm closely to her. She had noticed a growing familiarity between the pair but this was something she had never expected. To see Sebastian and Santana so engaged with each other, so comfortable was unthinkable. At least it had been all those months ago when the idea of their marriage had been broached.
But now, here they were appearing as if they truly cared for each other. She narrowed her eyes and asked,
"What's going on?"
Sebastian glanced up and stood to tell his mother, "I've got a job."
Rosemary beamed at him and cried, "Oh Sebastian! That's wonderful! Doing what?"
"I will be working in the Marketing department of Westerville Magazine." Sebastian smiled as his mother came to hug him tightly.
"Oh Sebastian!" said Rosemary again, not releasing him quite yet, "Your father will be so proud."
Sebastian snorted slightly and said, "Hmm, not likely."
Disentangling herself from her son, Rosemary told him reproachfully, "Oh come now Sebastian darling, he will be."
"We'll see," shrugged Sebastian offhandedly, "But his opinion doesn't matter really. It's not for him, not anymore." He held his hand out to Santana and she joined him at his side. "This is for Santana and I."
"Excuse me?" asked Rosemary somewhat taken aback.
"Neither of us really understand it, but we've decided to take the marriage with both hands and enter it wholeheartedly. It's what you, Father and Dr Lopez want and we think we could make a go of it." Sebastian smiled, wrapping his arm around Santana's back.
"Oh this is brilliant, brilliant!" sighed Rosemary blissfully, kissing Sebastian first, then Santana.
Pulling away but still holding their gazes she continued, "I had just come home to get Santana actually."
Santana looked up at Rosemary, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.
"What for?" asked Santana questioningly.
"It's time to go and pick the dress, dear. Or at least look at some samples to have one designed for you."
She had always known it would come down to this, but now she was actually going to buy her wedding dress everything was sinking in. She gathered all her strength and said to Sebastian,
"I'll see you later. Let's go Rosemary," She smiled at his mother and followed her out the door, sending a quick wish up to her own mother, hoping she could be the daughter-in-law the Smythes had always wanted.
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