Author's Note: 1Enjoy the chapter, guys.

When I blinked my eyes open groggily, it was dark. I supposed I had fallen asleep while I was reading, my eyes tired and my heart even more so. The ache in my muscles was fading a little, but that was perhaps because I had dozed off in such an uncomfortable position as to put my legs to sleep. An awful prickling sensation splintered within them now as they awoke, relentless even against the vigorous rubbing I was giving them. It subsided soon enough though, leaving my toes to wiggle freely and my body to relax against the mountain of cushions that I swore grew by the day.

Activity requiring mental power had perhaps not been the best of ideas, as I couldn't think straight anymore, strained as I felt. The book I had picked up had not been of the fiction kind, but I had contented myself with reading about physical sciences in order to distract my spinning thoughts.

My cheeks heated as I remembered mere hours earlier. I could feel the crimson blush creeping up my face at the thought of the kisses I had shared with Brittany. I raised my fingers to my lips for what seemed the thousandth time that evening, convinced that I could still lick her taste from them and feel her own lips against mine.

Sitting there, I finally let things sink in properly. Holy fucking mother of—

I had kissed Brittany.

More correctly, she had kissed me first. My mind tried to twist itself around the absolute improbability of the entire situation, only ending up tangled in its own web of wishes and desires, dreams and daydreams. I had lost count of the number of times I'd thought about how I would kiss her, perfect and slow and without tears. I would have been the one brave enough to lean forward first and steal her breath with my searching lips. I was to be the one who wrapped my arms around her strongly, surely. There was to have been no hesitance in my motions.

Instead, my fantasies had been upturned, ripped out by my fear and insecurities. And in their place had been planted the rarest and most unlikely of seeds. Brittany had planted a seed of hope.

I truly, honestly had given up. I had never even dared to expect anything to be more than my fanciful notions, knowing as I did the sore disappointment that came with entertaining such impossible imaginings.

Now, I wasn't so sure – of anything, really. Well, anything save for the fact that the next time I saw Brittany, my heart would most likely overwork itself into such a frenzy that I would simply collapse, possibly dead. Yes, I was definitely certain of that.

That was to be so soon. I didn't, once again, know exactly what the time was. It was late, but how late I couldn't say. I made a mental note to see to it that I was provided a new clock. I couldn't stand not knowing what the hour was when I awoke or when I went to sleep. How many hours had I spent, curled up with a heavy volume lying upon my chest and letting the cold sink into my limbs? Long enough, I thought.

I was still clad in my dress from earlier seeing as I had not had the chance, what with my untimely nap, to change into more comfortable clothes. I wondered how much trouble I would get in for preparing myself a midnight bath. Ultimately, I decided that however much trouble I would get in, it would not nearly outweigh the worth of refreshing water over my whole body.

I got up quietly, opening my door and sneaking down the hallway. There was really no reason, seeing as my family were all undoubtedly resting in the other wing of the house. The room containing the tub was a lot larger than it needed to be, the chill air permeating its entirety. Without having been stoked regularly, the fire over which the pot to heat the water hung had dwindled considerably. Sighing, I fixed it.

What had to have been almost an hour later, the warm water of the bath surrounded me. It was my first proper wash since… since I had lain in the field, the remaining dirt lifting from my skin with a mite of scrubbing. I let nothing fill my thoughts as I tried to cleanse both my mind and my body. I was in my quiet place, a sorely missed rarity in the past weeks.

There was a sort of novelty in bathing alone, at midnight, as the house was slumbering. It was truly private.

I stayed in the bath long after the last of the bubbles had popped and the warmth had slipped from the water. I had slowly adjusted with it though, so I was unfeeling to the cool liquid except when I focused on the difference in temperature between the submerged and the unsubmerged parts of me. My fingers had wrinkled and my hair was dripping and clinging to me. The sky was still almost black, a few stars peeking out from behind the clouds that had shifted in with the early morning breeze.

I thought of the day ahead of me as I stepped out of the tub, splashing water everywhere but paying it no thought. That was, until I slipped slightly, catching myself on the edge of the bath so I didn't split my head open on the tiles. Considering my run of luck, I was likely to do something foolish mere hours before returning to see Brittany. I mopped up the mess to avoid another such blunder, my thoughts being dragged back to the woman whom I missed so much. I felt almost pathetic in my yearnings, but quickly dispelled the feeling in favour of the butterflies that filled my stomach at the mere remembrance of her arms around me.

So long as I had memories of her, I would be unable to be pulled back down, into the darkness of the world, for a long while. She was as bright as the damn sun, blindingly so. Unfortunately (or fortunately, I wasn't quite sure) I had stared a little too long and had been gloriously blinded. But she remained there, a spot on my vision as one gets from watching our star in the daytime, on everything else I saw. No matter how many times I blinked, she was still there.

Mumbling to myself, I pulled on the dress I'd the foresight to bring atop my thin petticoat. I didn't feel the cool of the air anymore, instead feeling warm. It was probably just relative.

I stumbled out the door, my foot catching on the threshold, and almost fell right on top of Morys. I scampered backwards, retreating into the doorway once more, as we looked at each other in shock. Neither of us had obviously expected the other's presence at whatever hour it was. My mouth opened to quickly forge a snide remark and an excuse for my late night (or perhaps early morning) bathing, but it dropped from my tongue as Morys spoke first.

"Santana, I'm sorry about… you know," he said, obviously uncomfortable. He had an almost sheepish, repentant look upon his annoyingly not-ugly features. I had always wished an unpleasant appearance upon Morys, but I guessed that there was nought to be done for things determined by blood. For all her ill heart, Mama was at least an attractive woman. My father was bestowed with strong but kind looks. A family blessed with a pleasant outward appearance if nothing else, I thought rather bitterly. I was maybe exaggerating a little, but I cared not. Seeing my least favoured brother had brought my spirits down a step.

"Quiet your tongue, I've enough apologies and sentiments of regret to last me a thousand lifetimes," I snapped. "I don't want yours as well, Morys." I was being irrationally unkind, but I was on edge. I felt guilty and wary having been caught at a time when my thoughts contained nothing but dreams of Brittany's embrace. I somehow felt that he could see them written upon my face, that he could see my sins.

I stopped myself at that, not wanting ever again to put that word to how I felt. There could be no sin in affection, not ever.

All the same, I didn't feel it right to be thinking things like that when others were around. I was completely ridiculous but the fears slunk around me, threatening regardless. Fears of what exactly, I had yet to decipher.

I flicked my attention back to my brother as he began to speak again. "Very well, Santana. I merely wanted to give you my well wishes, but seeing as you do not want them I shall have to settle with reminding you that our Great Aunt Helga is to pay us a visit. You'll be expected to grace us with your presence, of course." I could almost hear the snicker in his words.

I stood, unmoving for a moment, cursing in my head. How could things have taken such a dramatic turn for the worse? Any semblance of calm I had managed to attain during my bath quickly slipped from my mind and body as I fumed silently.

"Well… what the hell are you doing up anyway?" I spluttered heatedly, deflecting attention from the previous topic.

He quirked a thick eyebrow at me, cold brown eyes glinting in the dim, flickering light of the hallway lamps. "I could ask the same of you." His hardened smirk incensed me to no end.

"Bathing," I replied shortly but honestly.

"Business," was his quick counter. We stood, staring at one another in annoyance for another few seconds before he turned to make his way down the hall to the study. He called back over his shoulder, a slimy expression on his face, "oh, and Abuela's coming too. Hope to see you on your best behaviour, Santana. Have a lovely morning, sweet sister." I kicked the doorframe with my bare foot, ignoring the splintering pain shot up my leg at the action. His back retreated into the study and I made my way back to my room. So much for the privacy of midnight bathing.

Perhaps it had been a tad closer to dawn than I'd first thought. Either that or Morys was plagued with nightmares of his own depravity, so much so that he couldn't bear to sleep in the presence of his own stone heart. I liked the latter scenario much better.

I would have to leave even earlier than I had planned in order to get away. I headed back to my room, wet towel in hand and a scowl on my face. Tying my hair in a neat but hastily fastened bun, I fixed it with my favourite floral barrette and applied the briefest spray of perfume to my wrists and my breastbone. There was a wet patch on my back from where my wet hair had lain and the fabric was cold against my now warmed skin.

I was having a battle with myself, trying to decide whether it would be wiser to stay here, at least for a while, to avoid the severe reprimand I was sure to receive if I were gone, or if I would throw caution to the wind and go to Chatsworth regardless. After dwelling on it for a moment, I came to the only conclusion I would have come to no matter how long I thought on it. I had never truly been considering staying.

I hurried over to my writing desk, grabbing out a pen and paper before scribbling down a not to let people know that I had left and had not in fact been abducted in the wee hours. As much trouble as it would get me in, I really didn't want to see Aunt Helga, and I didn't think I could face Abuela quite now. She was a woman in whom the utmost fear of God was instilled, and for that matter fear of society in general. She was the most proper woman I knew. She was also someone to whom I owed a great deal of my manners. Well, those that I had.

I supposed I had come to love her like a second mother as a child, but we grew apart as she visited less and less often. Now, it was only times like these that I had the chance to see her, and this time I didn't want it. I couldn't look her in the eye without thinking I'd somehow done wrong by my family, and certainly by her.

But I don't think I could ever let myself believe that I had wronged myself. I would never let myself believe that, no matter how much the coward in me wanted to, and I would never let Brittany believe that. Somehow I didn't think she would though.

Grabbing the hastily scrawled note and my coat, I went downstairs in the growing dawn light and placed what was sure to be my own death sentence on the table where I knew someone would see it sooner or later. Approaching the cloakroom, I heard shuffling from beyond the door and wondered who in their right mind would be going out at this hour. Well, save for myself. Curiously, I peeked around the door and was more than surprised to see my father pulling on a thick coat, his boots and a scarf. The air was colder down here than it was upstairs, a better reflection of the chill that had settled outside overnight.

I cleared my throat and set a questioning look on my face as he turned at the sound of my voice. His eyebrows shot up and he looked like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have. Quickly he was composed again and there was a smile on his face.

"Santana?" Was all he said in question.

I shrugged and pursed my lips, looking for any excuse I could find. "Just ah- I was just going to go feed the horses," I tried rather lamely, seeing as I never really did that. We had a stable hand for a reason.

Apparently my father was privy to that information as well. "Santana, don't even try. Where were you intending to go so early, my dear?" His glare turned playfully sceptical as I tried to sidestep the interrogation.

"Well, where were you going to go?" My feeble attempt at avoidance did not go unnoticed, but he humoured me nonetheless.

"I was going to say the stables too, but we both know that's not true. I was heading to town. But now you owe me and explanation, young lady."

I coughed a little. "Funny that. I was actually planning on going to the village as well," I said, strained. If he picked up on it, he didn't mention it.

"Well, we can go together then. I'm sure it'll be a lovely morning to walk." I wasn't quite sure if he really meant to be going to the village, but there was no turning back now for either of us.

The walk was actually quite nice, if not a little tense considering I suspected both of us had been lying about our destinations. Once we reached the village, though, I decided it couldn't hurt to find a spot of breakfast. I had already decided that I wouldn't be going back home. I broke away from my father and managed to get a croissant from the baker's son for little more than a smile before heading back down the road, except this time I went right by my house and on to the way to Chatsworth. The walk took me longer than it had yesterday, considering my relaxed pace. In fact, I had somehow managed to forget everything important about the day and about life, really. The deepest thought that had entered my mind in the past half hour had been that the pea-to-fork ratio was in fact a very complicated principle, and depended on both the size of the fork and the peas.

Evidently I had stopped thinking like an intelligent being the moment I began walking. When I reached the gate of Chatsworth, however, I stopped. I might have even had a heart attack with the amount of nervous energy flowing through me in that moment. I didn't think I'd felt like this since the last time my mother decided to look through my bookshelf and almost discovered that romance novel Quinn had loaned to me. This was perhaps even worse than that.

I had absolutely no idea what I had been intending to do when I saw Brittany. What does one say in a situation like this? How does a woman greet the woman she kissed mere hours ago? Sweet baby Jesus.

My heart was racing a mile a minute and I hadn't even stepped through the gate yet. I placed my hand on the stone brick pillar of the sweeping entrance and tried to be rational and calm about the whole thing. The longer I stood idly though, the more my nerves deteriorated.

I pulled myself up and walked purposefully through the gate; there was no chance I would let myself back out. Besides, my desire to see her far outweighed my fears – for the moment, anyway.

I didn't walk up the drive, instead wandering a little way off it yet still following its winding pathway to the house. The lake was not far from the gate, so I didn't have to walk for too long before I reached the water's edge. It was so quiet, the only sounds being the rustling of the ducks' feathers and the slight splashes they made as they dipped beneath the surface in search of food. I wished my life were that simple, but noted mentally that perhaps becoming a duck wasn't on the top of my list of lifetime goals. I didn't even know what was, to be honest, but I'd a few ideas. Top of my list for things to accomplish at this moment however was to find Brittany.

I wondered if she was even out of bed yet, let alone down here at the lake. Now as I thought about seeing her, my nerves began to turn into an uncontainable excitement. I just wanted to kiss her again.

But what if she didn't want to kiss me, what then? What if the hours spent apart had given her time to discover that it had in fact been a mistake and we were never to see each other again? I was overthinking this, definitely.

Lost in thought, I was completely oblivious to the presence behind me, that was until a hand slipped into my own and I felt a familiar warmth move beside me. I closed my eyes a moment and smiled. I'd known that whatever she did, it would erase everything completely from my spinning head save for one thing. When I opened my eyes, I turned my head to look at her.

"Good morning," she said. It was the simplest and most mundane thing that could possibly have been said in that moment, but it was everything I needed her to say. Those two words doused the fire of fear that had been struck in my heart and replaced it as usual with that strange feeling of hope, though I didn't care what I was hoping for.

Everything was going to be all right.

We looked at one another a moment longer before turning our attention to the lake. I glanced briefly down at where our hands were joined, a rush of admiration filling me at how strong she felt in every way. I hated to admit that I don't think I could have done that so effortlessly on my own the way she had. Unconsciously, I gripped her hand a fraction tighter.

Eventually the cold began to seep in through my layers and I shivered. I tried to pass it off as something intentional, but there was no way that was ever going to have worked. She just laughed lightly and tugged on my hand.

"Come with me." She began leading me across the field, not letting go of my hand the whole way. Once the house came into view, I became slightly more uncomfortable. "Everyone who cares is still asleep," she said and I wondered how on earth she knew what I was thinking. That could be dangerous for me if I didn't start to reign in some of my wilder thoughts, though she insisted that she was not in fact able to read minds.

"Where are we going?" I asked as my curiosity got the better of me. Brittany pointed a little was up the hill where a small cottage was just becoming visible.

"Up there." She was being rather cryptic, but I let her lead me the rest of the way. It was an old stone cottage, probably only one room inside. It looked rather worse for wear, the mortar eroding and the wood of the window frames rotting. I gave her a questioning look but she just opened the old door, which creaked and groaned under the apparent stress.

"Britt?" She still hadn't answered my questions really, but now she turned to me to explain.

"It used to be the gardener's cottage a really long time ago. A really long time ago, as you can probably see. I wasn't even born when a new one was built so this one stopped being used. I think people forgot to take it down then just forgot about it all together. I come here sometimes. I used to play house in here when I was a kid." Brittany led me through the doorway and into the small room the building housed. It was cosy, if not a little run down. There was a hearth at the far end and a rocking chair by what looks like it had once been a bed. Whatever was left now was virtually unusable.

Brittany let go of my hand and moved down to the end of the cottage with the hearth, setting about lighting the pieces of wood in the fire. "Whenever I come here I like to light this, make it feel more like home. I like to imagine how nice and warm and comfortable this place would have been when someone was living here. I thought it rather cute," she said, a nostalgic happiness touching her voice. I could see why she would have liked it here. It was a wonderful place to imagine.

"So does anyone else come here?" I asked, moving casually around the cramped space. I couldn't imagine they did, but it wouldn't hurt to ask. Brittany shook her head as she moved back from the slowly catching fire.

"No," she said, "just me, as far as I know. I don't think anyone else would want to. It's not exactly the nicest place." I nodded in agreement, but I had decided that I liked the place.

"It's nice," I said softly. "And warmer," I added, glad to be at least somewhat sheltered from the temperature outside. There hadn't been a morn quite so cool as this in a while. I could feel the chilled fingers of Autumn closing around us tighter than in the past couple of months, despite the rain. The trees were even beginning to turn golden save for the few evergreens that were dotted through the sparse woods.

I stood by the small window, watching a tiny hare racing over the hill. I wondered what had him in such a hurry, or perhaps he just liked to move that fast regularly. Perhaps he was fleeing to escape an unseen foe. His path led my eyes up to the house, the top of which was just visible from my vantage point. I bristled at the reality of the situation for only a moment before Brittany's warm body was pressed against mine and her arms circled around my waist, clasping at my front, resting just beneath my chest. My heart was kicked into action as she pressed the lightest of kisses to the nape of my neck and then to the top of my shoulder.

She hugged me closer to her, resting her chin on my shoulder and sighing.

"I did that once before, you know," she said, so softly it was almost a whisper but I heard it anyway because her mouth was so close to my ear. I didn't dare take any guesses as to what she meant, and when I didn't say anything she ventured on.

"You were so close. It was too hard not to. You were asleep." All my nerves fired up at the memory.

"I thought I must have been dreaming," I said just as quietly. She froze as she caught on to what I had said, but quickly relaxed and placed another kiss just behind my ear. I didn't dare breathe lest I shatter the moment which felt so fragile yet so perfect. She smiled against my skin and lingered a moment. I felt myself tensing up but in a good way that I couldn't explain.

She noticed, loosening her grip a little as if to move away. I placed my hands on top of hers before she could let go and she moved back in.

"Talk to me, Santana," she said, an almost pleading quality to her voice. I could hear her worry and my own matched it at the sound. I was still quiet for a moment, just wanting to feel her before I spoke. I had been wrong about letting go of all my fears. Brittany had merely hidden them, but now she had unknowingly uncovered them again. I hated myself for it.

"It's… I'm worried Britt. I'm so scared." I took a deep breath. Admitting weakness was a weakness in itself. At my admission her arms pulled me ever closer.

"I know. I am too," she breathed. "I won't lie, San. But being scared doesn't stop men from going to war or that explorer man sailing to America or baby birds flying out of their nests." I smiled at her analogies, as strange but effective as ever. "I don't want us to be scared of each other or anyone else."

I wanted to cry, but I didn't. I wouldn't be afraid of her, not ever. I wished I could tell myself the things she told me, make myself believe them as she so obviously did. I wanted to forget all the reasons why we shouldn't do this and remember all the reasons why we should; there were definitely more of the latter.

I turned around in her embrace and wrapped my arms around her neck, kissing her soundly. Everything was right again as soon as she kissed me back. Breaking away, I looked up at her eyes which remained closed.

"I don't know what this is, Britt. I… should I?" More even than I expected, my voice barely betrayed the heat coursing through my veins. I'm sure she could see it in my cheeks though. She pressed her lips to my forehead gently before looking back down at me.

"I told you yesterday, I don't care. I just want whatever it is never to stop." Her words stopped my heart once again. "You have no idea how long I waited for it to start."

"If it's as long as I waited then I must profess that we're both fools," I laughed, hiding my face in her neck and playing with a piece of her hair that had fallen loose. When she laughed, I could feel it and I didn't think I'd ever felt anything happier. I'd certainly never heard anything happier.

I certainly wasn't cold anymore; she was better than any fire. I decided to chance a question. "Did you- did you feel something…" I began, but I lost heart before I could ask what I had been going to ask.

Brittany pulled my chin up to better see my face, her expression willing me to go on. I shook my head.

"It's silly." I shook my head.

"I want to hear it, San. I want to hear everything you have to say," she encouraged.

I began again. "Did you feel something, that first night at the ball?" I asked tentatively. She immediately raised her eyebrows in a look of surprise. I sucked my head and tried to backtrack. "I know, I told you it was silly. Just forg-"

"I think I did," she answered before I could tell her to forget I had ever said anything. "I don't know if I believe in love at first sight, but I know that I thought you were the prettiest woman I'd ever seen."

I looked up again, this time speechless. I quite literally could form no words in response. I just stared at her in disbelief. She seemed to be studying my expression as I stood there, paralysed before her. She probably thought me simple for all the reaction she was getting.

It was such a sweet sentiment yet my incapable mind had been stuck on one small word.

Love.

Fuck. I hadn't dared put that word to anything about us thus far. If I'd been scared before, I was terrified now. Did I… did I love her? The thing was, there wasn't even a moment's hesitation before I knew the answer. I wouldn't be here if I didn't.

I felt like the hugest weight had been lifted from my shoulders and there was no stopping the awed smile I was giving her. I had… well, I'd fallen in love.

I was in love with Brittany. So, so pathetically in love that I almost sickened myself. I'd always held a certain degree of scorn for those who claimed themselves in love. I'd named them liars, all of them. I absolutely refused to believe it was jealousy. But if they'd felt even a fraction of what I was feeling right now, there was every reason to be jealous.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I wanted to tell her. She deserved to know. But what if she didn't say it back? What if Brittany didn't love me the same way I loved her? I felt the irrational fear take over again, but I couldn't give her nothing.

"Thank you," I said, my voice filled with the same awe that I could still feel in my eyes. She didn't ask what for, just pressing her lips against mine in reply. I think she understood.

She deepened the kiss but kept it chaste, seemingly knowing my every need and fulfilling it. I would never get enough of how she tasted. Sweet and comfortable and perfect. I was seriously questioning my capacity to leave her when the day was out.

At that moment, there was so much more to worry about but so much less I cared about. I knew we couldn't stay here, hidden away like this forever. She deserved more. So many things were imperfect, but she was the one thing that I wasn't worried about. Brittany.

By the time she had to put more wood on the fire, I was certain that going back to Marchess would be no easy task.

"How long can you stay?" She asked from her place in front of the fire. I had seated myself in the old rocking chair that was still in a surprisingly comfortable condition. If there were spiders, I didn't dare look.

I smiled lazily, the warmth of the room and Brittany's presence sedating me rather effectively. "I never want to leave," I replied. I could see the corners of her mouth turn up at my answer.

She came and settled herself at my feet, her back resting against my legs and her head against my knees. I was content to sit here forever.

"I'd have you here for as long as you'd stay, but your family probably wouldn't," she said lightly. I sighed heavily.

"You know, I wasn't even supposed to come here today," I admitted. She bent her neck back at a funny angle to look up at me. "My Abuela and my aunt were to be calling. They only visit the countryside every so often, considering they're from town. London's, what, a few hours travel? A day?" I thought to myself. Perhaps. I didn't feel guilty about avoiding Helga, but I wished I didn't feel I had to avoid Abuela as well. "But there was never a chance that I wouldn't have come today, regardless." Brittany looked apologetic, like somehow it was her fault. "Britt, my aunt Helga is the last person I wanted to see today. I'll give you three guesses as to who the first was." I smirked at her and she placed her finger on her chin in faux-thoughtfulness.

"The King," she said seriously. I rolled my eyes at her but she just smiled back impishly. "Alright, alright. It was Lord Tubbington," she said as if giving in. Yet another thing that I… that I loved about her – she was so much more fun than the rest of the serious world we lived in. People were all business and propriety when they grew up, but she was none of that and I supposed I envied it. "Don't laugh. I know you want to see him," she teased.

"He's a cat, Brittany," I pointed out. She didn't seem to think this changed anything.

"Don't let outward appearances fool you," she said wisely. "It's what's on the inside that counts." I watched her as she shifted against me.

"Well, it doesn't hurt to have a good outward appearance," I countered. "It's a bonus, is it not?"

She grinned up at me again. "It certainly is," she agreed. The fluttering was back as soon as she looked at me like that.

We stayed sitting like that for another long while, exchanging the occasional comment or glance. I'd no idea what the time was. The sun had carved a long path across the sky from the times we saw it from behind the clouds. As time dragged on, our looks began to convey our displeasure with the approaching and unavoidable parting. After a while, Brittany stood and held out her hand for me to take.

"Come inside with me. It would not be so odd for you to simply drop by now. My family will never know any more than the fact that you called this afternoon. Even though you stayed all day," she said as if it was some mastermind plot. "There are clocks inside, and despite my philosophy that time doesn't really matter, it sort of does," she said, almost saddened by her own realisation for a second. I took her hand and stood, wanting to have a few last moments of privacy with her. Once we went inside, everything changed. Simply standing too close would not be an option.

I reached a hand to the back of her neck and stroked it lightly. "When can we do this again?" I asked, not wanting to hear the answer. Despite the relative ease with which I escaped today, it would probably not be so simple next time. In fact, my escape today was probably the reason I wouldn't get away so easily.

She kissed me gently before whispering that it would be as soon as we could. I had to content myself with that answer, because it was the best even I could have come up with.

With one last kiss that was verging on desperate, at least on my part, we linked ourselves only by our hands and made our way towards the house, that was until we reached full view from the windows at which point we reluctantly let go. She told me it was okay though because if our hearts had hands, they'd be holding each other's. I didn't quite know what to say to that so I settled on giving her that same smile I had given her earlier. The one that, now I came to think of it, probably looked utterly love-struck.

By the time we got inside, it was nearing three in the afternoon. It would be dark by six, but that didn't matter because my mother's temper would have been black hours ago. In fact, I was surprised she hadn't come looking for me. We ran into the Duchess as we walked to the lounge, but the conversation and explanation was short-lived and polite. She seemed a little out of sorts, but Brittany pulled me away to the lounge.

When she offered to walk me home, I told her that probably wasn't the best idea seeing as at least one member of my household was likely to be in some sort of Santana-patrol. Brittany looked regretful but agreed anyway. Before I left, she pulled me into the empty cloakroom and held me like she'd never get another chance. It almost felt that way, which was ridiculous and dramatic but felt so real. "I don't want you to leave," she said, and I nodded against her.

"Soon," I assured her, "I'll see you again soon." It was a lot to promise considering the situation, but I did anyway. I also promised myself that I'd keep that promise.

I wasn't sure how long I took to get back to Marchess, but the minute I stepped through the front door I felt my heart drop into my stomach. There, standing by the stairs, was my mother, my father standing not far behind her. Her arms were crossed and her mouth was set in a thin line.

"Had a nice day, Santana?" She asked, the ice in her tone sharp enough to sink ships. "I trust you were somewhere important."

"Very," I spluttered immediately, "very important place. I was uh… Madrid had to be ridden, Mama. I hadn't ridden her in a week." That was quite possibly the worst excuse I had ever come up with in my entire life.

"Ah, that horse that spent her day at the farrier. Right, I see. Must have a twin then. Funny that," she countered. Fuck. "When did you begin blowing off important family matters for your so-called friends, Santana? Did I not make it clear that you were to remain here for today in order to see your Abuela and my sister? I thought you were better than that, Santana. I thought that perhaps you'd matured into the fine, polite family woman I raised you to be. Obviously I was mistaken."

"Mama-" I cried, trying to get a word in. I was sick of her tearing me down like this.

"No, Santana. You've had enough chances. This girl is distracting you, and you needn't be distracted during such a critical time in regard to your future." She said it with such a detached air that it made my hairs stand on end.

"Well if it's my future, why don't you let me decide how I want it to be?" I yelled, exasperated and exhausted from fighting so hard and so often for things I should never have had to fight for. She was having none of it.

"You shall remain in this house until further notice. No visitors shall be allowed unless I approve them. You shall see suitors until you are married. You're dismissed." She left then, retreating into the dining room. I didn't move. My back was against the door, and it was all the support my frozen body was getting. My legs had ceased to function hopefully only temporarily and I found myself incapable of comprehending anything Mama had said. Every word slipped slowly through my mind like poison, making my anger swell. I didn't cry, and I didn't let Papa, who was still standing by the stairs, see anything I was thinking on my face. He didn't say anything, once again.

I didn't expect him to. I sank down against the door, unwilling to go anywhere that required effort. I knew I hadn't been the model daughter recently, but perhaps this had been the last straw. I wouldn't change it for the world, though. Never in a million years would I trade in what Brittany gave me today. Any sliver of hope I had gained today had been crushed by the look on my mother's face. It was a look of disgust, of disappointment and most of all, betrayal. I hated her for it.

I didn't cry once that evening. I didn't sleep either. Sometime, in the middle of the night as I was tucked into bed and lying stiffly and emptily, my door opened. I didn't care. A bloody murderer could have come in and I wouldn't have wanted to care. Look where caring had gotten me. No, I didn't want to think that. I felt myself soften as I thought of fires and blonde hair and pointless conversations. Whoever it was moved closer to my bed but I feigned sleep.

A large hand hovered over the edge of my quilts before picking them up and pulling them tighter around me. "Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you," came my father's quiet, gruff voice before he leaned down and laid a kiss against my forehead. The door to my room shut quietly and I was left to the silence again.

That was when I cried.

Author's Note: There you have the latest instalment. Feel free to beat me up about stuff in a review. If you have any questions, want updates about the story and the direction it's heading or behind the scenes info, head on over to my new Tumblr soliloquy-siege.