She walked down the halls of her school, her sneakers squeaking every few steps and people moving out of her way. After all, she was Santana Lopez, and no one wanted to be in her way when she looked like she was in such a hurry. Which right now she kind of was. She was tired and beat and had been up the whole night before with thoughts of Sebastian. What he asked and wanted to know. How she didn't know the answer to, what just two months ago, would have been so easy to answer. She had loved Brittney, she was sure. Loved her like nothing else... but now, with Sebastian in the picture the answer was harder. She didn't know anymore.
If she loved Brittney, she would have stopped with Sebastian easily, hell she would have never hooked up with him in the first place. But she had. She had cheated on Brittney too many times to count and she had been okay with it. If she really loved Brittney, would cheating have been so easy? And Sebastian... He felt so good, so right. Everything about him sent her body on a high. Pushed her up and destroyed her and she always wanted more. Every part of him satisfied her and he made her feel like she satisfied him, which only sent her body even higher. She wanted him.
Her eyes glanced at the note in her palm. 2:15. That's when she was suppose to be in the science room, and right now it was... 2:14. Good, she wasn't late.
She turned to walk into the dark classroom, and stopped, seeing a face that made her smile.
"Britt-Britt," she said, trying to sound like she hadn't just been thinking about Sebastian. "What's going on?"
Brittney smiled and held out half a cookie. "It's our anniversary!" she told.
Santana raised an eyebrow and told her carefully, "Brittney, our anniversary would have to be on a Monday, and it's Thursday."
Brittney gave a confused sad look. "I thought you just had anniversaries whenever you wanted. Like Birthdays and Easter."
Santana smiled, staring at the blonde who smiled back and held the half of the cookie back out to her. Santana looked down at the cookie, which was frosted with half a yellow smilie face. It was cute, perfect, like Brittney. Just like Brittney.
!&!
He grabbed his backpack, leaving the school. He couldn't stay here, he was falling asleep in class and he just felt weird. He needed to go home.
But home... Home was worse. There were memories at home. Of her. Pressed against his walls, lying on his floor, tangled in his blankets. He was already miserable at school, home couldn't be better at all. Not with her scent still sweated onto his sheets no matter how many times he washed them. Her screams echoed in his mind and her quips made him smile and feel depressed because she wasn't his dammit. She wasn't his.
He got in his car. Started it. Stared ahead of him. There was a limited amount of options. He had been everywhere with her that he could run away too. The Lima Bean, his house, that one time her school parking lot...
There was one place, and in his state it would probably be considered a bad idea, but what choice did he have?
!&!
She practically snarled as she jumped back into her car after leaving the Lima Bean in a huff. He hadn't been there, or school, and apparently he wasn't going to be picking up his phone or text her back anytime soon. She had to find him and tell him what decided. He deserved to know. She just had to find him first.
She checked her phone again, rolling her eyes at the lack of text messages or phone calls. Where was he? What was his problem? Thad or Chad or someone (a Warbler she had brutally interrogated) said he had skipped on the end of the school and Warbler practice.
So where the fuck was he?
Her next guess was his house, but what was he doing there? Was he sick or something? Damn him and his annoying ways of not answering his damn phone.
Santana practically sped to his house, she just needed to tell him and get it over with but he was being such a dick that she didn't even want to tell him. She stopped quickly and practically jumped out of her car. She ran across the street and stormed up the steps and knocked on the door as hard as she could. She was going to yell at him before she told him anything because he's a freaking grown man and should learn to answer his damn phone and-
"Excuse me?" a woman answered, and Santana felt her body go numb.
"Oh, um," she stumbled over her letters, realizing that this must be Mrs. Smythe, Sebastian mom. She had to be, she looked just like him. Same strong facial structure that was somewhat... woodland creature like. Same shade of brown hair and eyes. She had to be his mom. Oh, this was awkward.
"May I help you?" the lady asked stiffly.
Santana tried to gather her words, think of a logical lie, and not freak out. "Um, is Sebastian home?" she asked dumbly. She really hoped he was, this was way to incredibly awkward.
The lady shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. My son isn't here right now."
"Oh," Santana noised, looking around awkwardly. "Um, can you tell him I stopped by? My name is Santana Lopez, by the way." She's never been good with adults. She'd always been awkward or inappropriate when is came to her "superiors".
"Of course," the lady told. "Good evening." And she shut the door.
Well, that was no help.
!&!
He sat on the edge of his car, just thinking. He really was crazy about Santana. He couldn't control it. He didn't know why, and he fucking hated that he did. He hated her. He wanted her. He never wanted to see her again. He'd have her right now if he could.
But she made her decision yesterday. Yesterday she had decided leaving was better. She decided that Brittney was better. That Brittney was safer.
And now, as he sat on the hood of his car and thought about it, she was probably right.
!&!
She had pulled up to sit at the end of his road, out of his house's view. No need to let his mom think she was a stalker or a creep. She just needed to tell Sebastian, before her courage disappeared. Before she thought of the consequences of telling him.
Her eyes scanned the road, and in the background, she saw this hill. Just a few minutes away it looked like, and she couldn't see anything but the hill. As far as she knew, there was no way up that hill.
Still, she had tried every where else. Why couldn't she just try there?
!&!
He heard the car before he saw it, and he sighed. His silence was being disrupted by tourist, pot heads, or horny teenagers on the run. So much for some time alone. He pushed himself off his car as the other car parked next to his. He might as well leave, whoever was here didn't need his emotions ruining their mood.
He turned and looked to the car, a small red one that he immediately recognized, and watched as Santana stood out and turned to face him, slamming the car door closed.
He blinked. "Santana?" Why was she here? She shouldn't be here. She couldn't be here, this place was for him to be alone at. She was going to disrupt him.
But he wanted her to stay.
"Why haven't you been answering your phone?" she asked, walking over to him, and if he was stupid, he'd swear she was worried about him. He was pretty stupid though… or fucked up, at least.
He shrugged, reaching his hand into his pocket and feeling his phone, which sat in silence. Right next to…. "Hey, want one?" he asked, pulling out his pack of cigarettes.
She looked at the pack, then at him, a little taken aback that he had them. He guessed she never really considered him a smoker, that all those times he talked about them, he was joking. He wasn't a real smoker, not really. He just stress smoke sometimes, like now.
She reached out and took one from the pack, and he was careful to not let their hands touch. And again, if he was stupid, he would think that he saw a look of her cross her eyes.
"Got a light?" she asked, holding it out to him, and he lit the stick up quickly, avoiding eye contact with her and lighting up his own. They both leaned against his car, staring directly ahead, not moving or talking just… smoking.
She'd lost her courage. Just by closing her car door she'd lost her courage. She was gonna storm out and just tell him, yell it at him, but she was scared now. He seemed off balanced. Like his thoughts weren't coherent with his actions. Like offering her the cigarette conflicted with what his mind was thinking. Like how she felt right now.
She refused to glance his way, to toss her gaze to the image of him holding the lit cigarette to his lips or blowing out smoke. She didn't know why, but she had a huge fear that if she did, she would do something stupid.
Oh hell, this whole thing was stupid.
She needed to get him speaking, that way she could break it to him gently, without harming him or her in the process. She needed to be smart, and make sure she stayed in control. So she said the first thing that came to mind.
"I met your mom."
He coughed, clearly startled by her sudden approach, and looked at her, bewilder. "What?"
"Yeah, I was trying to find you, so I went to your house. She opened the door. I don't think she likes me," she told as she knocked off spare ashes. "It was kind of funny. I'm sure you'll have to give a full report about me to her."
He smiled and looked at the ground, thinking how Santana was right. His mother would want a full report. That's how she was. She was the strict parent….
"Did you meet my dad?" he asked, quietly, as he inhaled.
She glanced at him, her eyebrow rose and the pit tightened. "No," she told. "Why?"
He was quiet for a long time. He just stood still, his cigarette a few inches from his lips, burning away as he stared at the ground. She watched for a moment, but then turned her head away. What was wrong with him? What was up with his dad? Her thoughts went to Blaine's dad, who had bee rumored to not be so… proud of the gay son quality, so maybe his dad was like that?
But he denied her suspicion. He stared at his shoes and told her, "Well, the guy my mom's married too, that's not my dad."
She stared at him, beyond confused, but didn't interrupt.
"He's my step-dad, Darryl. My mom married him when I was ten, so he's been my dad since then." He paused. There was something more. Something he wanted her to know, she could tell. There was a story. "My real dad," he started again. "Well, he was… he was a bad guy, I guess. He, um, he," he paused again, and she saw him look away. "He, uh, he was kind of a beater."
And suddenly, it made sense.
Her confused look goes away, and she understands.
"He, uh, I guess he was really homophobic, and he had all these fears I would grow up being gay so he… he, um," he paused again, and he sounds so lost, so scared and confused, that she didn't know what to do. So she just stood there. Listening. "He'd do all these things… I was a really boy-ish. I played with G.I. Joes and Hot Wheels, but… I guess he was just worried, and every time I sang he'd, um, he'd hit me. Just you know, belts and stuff. And I really liked to sing." He acted so distant, like he was reading a story, a report, anything besides a memory. "Guess my mom got tired of it after awhile. It gets hard to explain so many fractures." He threw his cigarette and watched it fall, and Santana felt her heart go with it.
"We moved to Paris without him, came back and he was gone, and mom married Darryl. And I've never heard from him again." Finally, he turned his head, staring at her. "That's pretty fucked up, right?"
It was then she realized she was crying. Quietly, just a few tears falling, because this wasn't her story to sob over, and she was actually waiting for him to start, but his eyes weren't even glassy. They were just distant, like he was as far away as he could possibly be.
"I went to therapy for a few years after that," he continued. "This guy, Jared, he tried to help me through it. Nightmares and junk… When I came out to him though he was so… normal about it. Like he saw it coming, and not in the 'I always knew you were' kind of way, in this… 'Oh, really?' kind of way. I stopped seeing him after that." He coughed, looking away from her. "And I figured that was it. I was gay, I liked boys, and that was all."
Then, she caught his gaze again, and his hand, carefully, made it's way to her. His clutch is gentle, and she let him, because this is important to him. "Then… you." He didn't look at her; his eyes stared at their glued hands instead. "You just… fucking walked into my life and I just wanted you-want you so bad. It scared and confused the fuck out of me. I had done it with other girls, yeah, but… you just… I don't know. It really messed with me."
She wanted to interject, say that she understood and she felt the same, but her the pit in her stomach stopped her and told her this was Sebastian's story, that she needed to listen for once.
"I thought I could just have sex with you. That that would be fine. That that would work. But the more we went at it, the more I wanted you again. And again. That wasn't the scary part though, I wanted to…" He looked to her, just for a second, and then turned his head away again. "To know you, I guess. I don't know, you were a bitch, a girl, a pain in my ass… but I wanted to know why you had vanilla shampoo, and what your favourite movie was, and if you felt anything towards me. And it scared me."
He tightened his grip. "Jared thinks that by my dad beating me, I assumed I was gay. That him trying to beat the gay out of me made me think I was actually gay. There. That's all you wanted to know. I'm sorry." He pulled his hand away and leaned off the car. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do tell you that much." He moved away, turning away from her and clearly making movements to leave, and she reacted without a thought.
"I broke up with Brittney!"
He stopped.
"I broke up with her because… Well, because dammit, I really like you Sebastian. I can't say I love you, cause I don't know if that's true, but I really care about you and I want to get to know you and I want you to take me to Breadstix and get into these arguments about who's better and have sex with you but also sleep in the same bed with you and I want to talk to you about your past and my past and I-I-I-"
She stopped as he turned around pressed his body to hers, hugging her so tight she thought she could break.
"I want to be with you," she told into his shoulder. "Just you."
He hugged her tightly, for so long and she was so happy. His arms around her waist was so right. So comfortable. She wanted to keep him, and now… She could. She could have him because surely this hug meant he was hers. That after all of the shit they had been through he still wanted to stay. He still wanted to be with her. And she wanted him, because Sebastian was right. He was perfect for her, and she wanted him in so many ways. She needed him.
It was a long time till he pulled away, and even when he did it wasn't completely. He just took his head off her shoulder, tore one of his arms from around her waist, and he stared at her. Her brown eyes staring into him, red and puffy and happy. Because she wanted him. She wanted to be with him. Brittney was gone; she was all his.
His hand went to cup her chin, delicately. She stayed still, staring at him. Just starring, not questioning or wondering. Just starring. He pulled her as gently as he could forward, tilting her head towards him.
She felt the pit in her stomach get tighter, ad she recognized this feeling. This kiss that was coming, he had tried it once before, and she had been scared and sneezed because she didn't know what she was scared of. Now though, as his lips inched closer and closer, she realized why.
This was an actual kiss.
His lips brushed against hers. No force, no clanging teeth, no battling tongues, no bruising. This was just a kiss. So sweet, so innocent, that it scared her and made her so happy.
It scared him too, for all the same reasons. A kiss this gentle that he could actually feel her breath against his lips and didn't require the same heat it always did. It meant so much more than their many other much more physical acts.
She felt her eyes well up again, and she clenched them shut tight, as his lips moved against hers in a whisper.
"I want to be with you, Santana."
