Harder To Breathe
Chapter Ten
It's the end of Santana's shift, 11:30pm finish isn't bad - but considering she started at 3 in the morning, her work day had felt like forever. She grabbed her jacket and keys, before heading out into the cool crisp air of New York City.
She loved this city, the atmosphere, the skylines, the shops, the people, just everything really.
Tucking her hands deep into her jacket pockets and burying her mouth under the collar of it, she headed towards her old apartment with Brittany in mind.
As she walked, only a few people passed her, most of them looking rather shady and suspicious considering it was a Sunday night and everyone had work the next morning - so most people would be at home, tucked up in bed.
She licked her lips, attempting to dampen the dry, cracking skin that covered them. Two seconds later what felt like a cloud of smoke punched down her throat, causing her to crave a cigarette.
She'd started right after Brittany had left, but was persuaded not to smoke indoors due to the amount of fire's she'd put out that had started because of cigarettes. And considering she spent 90% of her time indoors, whether it was in her apartment or at the station - smoking just kind of slipped her mind.
But as she was alone, and currently walking at least a mile or two home craving a cigarette, so she popped into a local convenience store - picking up 20 Newport Lights, a tape recorder and then exiting.
She shoved the recorded in her jacket pocket, and only a few flicks of a lighter later, she was damaging her lungs with the addictive taste of nicotine.
Quinn had once questioned her about her new habit, whilst Rachel butchered her about the dangers of it. The only reply the Latina could come up with matched her state back then; depressing - 'I take comfort in the fact that they might kill me before things get worse' were the words she used. Which received a dramatic eye roll from Berry and a small shake of the head from the blonde.
Twenty minutes and three cigarettes later, she arrived at her apartment. She'd been relieved of her nicotine crave, but she was still shit-scared of the fact that she had to have a conversation that was longer than two minutes, with a girl who stomped on her heart eight months ago - effectively crushing her every hope and dream.
The elevator dinged, and she stepped into the hallway, inhaling the familiar stench of her apartment building, musty yet homey. Her apartment door seemed almost unbearably daunting as she wandered up to it, armed with the key.
She clicked it open and walked in, shutting the door behind her as she caught a flash of blonde hair perched on the sofa - the sound of Finding Nemo playing through the speakers attached to the TV.
"Brittany?" Santana addressed her with her full name, showing the seriousness of the conversation they were about to have.
"Santana? You're home." She replied, too domestically for her liking.
"I need to talk to you about something work-related." The Latina said honestly, heading towards the sofa before hovering awkwardly - deciding whether to sit on the coach or on the arm chair to her left.
Brittany watched her decision, and saw as the brunette settled on the arm chair which she knew wasn't as comfortable as the sofa. Apparently her choice of seating reflected her mood, uncomfortable.
"Right. What is it?" The blonde questioned, twiddling with her blonde hair between her fingers, telling Santana she was slightly nervous by the question.
"I need to know exactly what happened the night of the fire." Santana commented, not meeting the piercing blue gaze of the dancer as she fumbled around in her pocket, pressing the record button on the tape recorder.
"Why?" Brittany asked, trying to decipher Santana's reasons for knowing about that night.
The brunette pondered over telling the truth or not, but instead she'd leave Brittany to come up with her own conclusions for her curiosity; "Paperwork."
The blonde had seen Santana in action so many times she knew there was something more having to fill in paperwork, but instead of questioning it, she started on the story.
"Well, I'd just finished my shift at Frankie's, and I came home around 1am. It was completely normal; I listened to my messages and watched about five minutes of TV before deciding I'd probably fall asleep if I watched anymore so I went to bed."
Santana's ears were listening to the story, but her mind raced back to all the times when she and Britt were snuggled up on the sofa, watching TV until Britt fell asleep. Where Santana stepped in to carry her to bed in her sleepy state, and watching her chest rise and fall whilst tiny snores escaped her perfect lips.
"I think it was around 2.45 when I woke up after hearing like a crashing or something shattering. So I grabbed a baseball bat which I had stored under my bed and stepped into the living room armed. But I wasn't very ninja-like because I was laughing at how stupid I looked."
The blonde giggled, which elicited a similar but quieter one from Santana. There was a light that brightened the sky-blue eyes at the sound of the Latina laughing, but it was shortly met by silence as the heartache cut off any sound coming from the brunette's mouth.
"But when I got there, I smelt burning and saw that my window was broken and flames just like spreading through my apartment. By the time I registered it, my kitchen was alight and so was half my living room. I freaked but, but remembered what you said about what to do in a fire. So I ran in to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Then I broke the window and got in the bathtub - where you said the fire couldn't hurt me."
Santana cracked open the bedroom door, looking inside to see her beautiful girlfriend laying soundly asleep with her blonde hair splayed all over the pillow beside her. An arm lay across Santana's side of the bed as if Brittany had been looking for her. The Latina wandered up to the bed, stripping off her dirty, smoke-ridden uniform and lying next to the dancer in just her underwear.
"Britt, hun, I'm home." She whispered into the blonde's ear, causing her to roll over into the Latina's waiting embrace.
"Mhm, it's good to have you home baby." Brittany mumbled into the crook of Santana's neck. The brunette felt the face scrunch as the blonde inhaled.
"You smell of smoke." Brittany said disapprovingly. She'd never like the idea of Santana being a fire-fighter. Mostly because she was putting her life on the line every day for selfish New Yorkers who given the chance, probably wouldn't do the same.
"I know baby, had a 10-26." The Latina only realised then Britt didn't know the codes like she did, "Some idiot left food on a stove, a fire erupted and basically took out the whole kitchen."
"I leave food on the stove all the time." Brittany whispered, pressing kisses to Santana's neck and jawline.
"Please be careful baby. I don't know what I'd do if..." The brunette stumbled, not wanting to even think the words.
"Okay. Sorry Lieutenant." The blonde said seductively. Santana smiled and rolled over, so she was pressed in between Brittany's legs, hovering above her.
She kissed her with all the energy she had left, her tongue exploring every part of Brittany's mouth that she could possibly get too - the only reason they parted was due to lack of oxygen.
"God, you're even sexier when you call me that." Santana uttered against the pale skin of Brittany's neck. Her lips were moving against the skin, but her mind was currently occupied with the thought of Brittany getting into trouble with fire.
"But please just remember, if you ever do get into trouble. Get in the bathtub and crack a window, it'll give you time. And keep a fire blanket within reach at all times. Those things really do save lives.""
"Yes Lieutenant Lopez. Your wish is my command." Brittany said softly, bringing their lips back together in a kiss that could've ignited the room.
Shit. Santana wondered how long the daydream had occupied her attention for; but turned her attention back to the blonde standing metres away from her in the kitchen next to the boiling kettle.
"...It was only about five minutes later did I remember I didn't have the fire blanket which I kept in my kitchen around me." Brittany finished, grabbing the coffee granules and placing them into two cups. "You wanted a cup right?"
"Uhm, yeah. Sure. Please." Santana stuttered, not wanting to sound too rude. Apparently during her daydream, Brittany had started cooking something judging by the smell emanating throughout the living room.
"What you cooking?" The Latina asked, jutting her chin in the direction of the pan.
"Eggy bread. Your favourite." She mumbled, smiling sadly at the brunette before turning her attention to the frying pan.
Santana decided to take a stool behind the kitchen island, mindlessly playing with the coffee cup in front of her - taking slow sips and revelling in the feeling of warmth spreading throughout her body.
It was only now that she realised how cold she was, and the goose bumps sunk back into her skin as the hot liquid seeped down her throat. Santana sniffed, inhaling a slightly disgusting scent - she glanced around, spotting the cause of the smell.
"Uhm B, you're burning the food." She chuckled, rising from her seat and heading to the stove with the burning pan.
"Awh crap." Brittany muttered, attempting to grab the pan. But she slipped, her slender fingers heading towards the heated metal.
"Britt no!" Santana yelled, pushing her hand out the way and wincing as the open flame touched her skin, scorching the skin and burning her.
"Ah fuck. Fuck fuck fuck." The Latina blurted out, clutching her hand as she hissed inwards, flinching at the burning sensation that ran over her skin.
"You should be more careful." A deep voice interrupted, Santana peeked over her shoulder to see an evil looking smile paste Dan's face. "Fire can kill."
Santana cringed as his deep voice sent a tingle down her spine, itching her neck as she watched the evil smile convert into a smirk. The sensation that throbbed through her hand, but it was dulled temporarily as she saw something behind the dull green eyes that resembled revenge, or anger.
Santana shook of the thought after the pain struck her once more, moving her attention to the skin that protruded from her hand, leaving a sensitive burn.
"Run your hand under cold water San, it'll sting but the pain will subside for a bit. I'll grab the burn cream and a gauze pad. Be right back." Brittany muttered, sprinting off into the bathroom probably to the medical cabinet that hung above the sink.
"Britt tells me you're a fire-fighter." Dan said, crossing his arms as he leant against the kitchen doorframe.
"Yeah." Santana replied, running her hand under the freezing water and biting on her bottom lip as the cold burned her hand. Ah the irony.
"Then you should know to be more careful around open flames." He added, sauntering over to the stove, licking his fingertips and flicking them over the fire, playing with it.
"And you shouldn't play with them." Santana said firmly, leaning over and switching off the gas that fuelled the fire.
"I don't know about that. Sometimes it's..." He paused, his eyes fixated on the orange flames that licked his fingertips, "Entertaining."
His eyes reflected the colour as they darted to Santana, the evil smirk returning to his face. It caused the shivers to creep up on the Latina once more and he closed his mouth, after prolonging the word 'entertaining'.
"Entertaining?" Santana questioned, her eyes narrowing at his peculiar choice of words.
"Yes. Sometimes it's entertaining to watch things just... burn."
She studied his face, knowing there was something between his words that he wasn't saying. The lieutenant opened her mouth to question his creepy statement, but Brittany bounded in - armed with a lot of medical supplies. Dan's face fell, and he eyed the blonde before turning and disappearing into the hallway.
"Britt, you don't need to bring the ER here." Santana scowled, shaking her head at how worried the blonde looked.
"You're hurt."
"So?" The brunette asked, drying off her hand with a nearby cloth.
"I don't want you to be in pain." She added, Santana rolled her eyes once again at the irony that strained her sentence. A sarcastic laugh escaped her lips, causing the piercing blue eyes to infect her stare.
"What?"
"Nothing." The brunette replied, allowing the blonde to take her hand and gently squeeze some burn cream onto the wound that burned red on the back of her hand.
Santana felt her heart flutter as Brittany's long slender fingers brushed against her own, leaving a familiar tingling feeling to crawl over skin. It seemed Brittany noticed it too, as she placed her whole hand underneath Santana's, letting their fingers almost thread together as her other hand rubbed the cream in gently.
"Britt..." Santana whispered, revelling at the touch of the blonde's silky smooth skin. "Don't."
"I'm just helping you San."
Anger flashed through the Latinas body, remembering how the girl in front of her just walked out her life like she'd never meant anything. Stamped on her heart and disappearing out her life for eight months.
All the fury bubbled inside the bit of Santana's stomach as Brittany placed the gauze over the wound. Leaving their fingers slightly entwined as she reached for the medical tape.
"Brittany, you know what you're doing." Santana growled, whipping her hand out of the blondes and crossing her arms as she walked towards the sofa, leaning her butt against the back of it.
"Santana I'm not finished." Brittany said firmly, taking a few steps towards the Latina until she was standing in front of her.
The blonde grabbed her hand once more, wrapping medical tape around the gauze pad slowly, brushing her fingertips on the outsides of Santana's fingers, tickling them gently.
Santana's head swam under the touch of her ex-girlfriend. She couldn't lie, she'd missed Brittany's soft touch and comfort - and having her touch his skin and look after her was almost overwhelming.
The dull ache throbbed throughout her being as she closed her eyes, wishing the blonde would just take one step away from her as their faces were only inches apart.
"There we go, all done." Brittany whispered, lifting her head to meet Santana's eyes.
The Latina heard the dancer's breath hitch as she realised how close their faces were. Hot breath tickled Santana's mouth as she clenched her jaw, trying to summon any type of strength or willpower to shove Brittany away and yell at her.
"S'ntana." She whispered as a single tear dropped down Santana's cheek, leaving the Latina's frame to shudder at the way she spoke, missing the first 'a' in her name.
Adrenaline pumped through Santana's veins, causing her heard to pound ferociously as Brittany's thumb instinctively came up to wipe away the tear. Her fingertips lingered over the soft olive skin and she inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the intoxicating aroma of Brittany's perfume.
"Please, just..." The dancer uttered quietly, so quiet the fire-fighter almost didn't hear it.
She closed the gap between them, allowing their noses to bump slightly. Santana's brain was screaming at her to pull away, knowing that one kiss could potentially snap the remaining heart strings, causing it to falter and her ending up with an eventual fatal heart attack. Or the restrictions on her lungs could tighten and she could die of a slow and painful suffocating death.
Neither sounded really appealing to the brunette, but her body had different ideas. She hadn't kissed anyone since Brittany, and the sparks that were flying in the four millimetre gap was enough to send her over the edge.
Before she could decide, Brittany's lips were gently brushing against Santana's, leaving shivers to form throughout both of their frames. The blonde pressed her lips harder this time, taking Santana's bottom lip between hers and sucking gently as her hands snaked around the brunette's waist.
They parted momentarily, brown orbs met sky-blue ones, and Santana recognised fear as it clouded the piercing eyes that were gazing at her.
With less hesitation, Brittany leaned in once more, pushing her lips to Santana's, feeling them mould together perfectly. Santana's chest might as well have imploded at the internal pounding her heart was taking, causing it to swell and press up against her frail ribcage.
The Latina let out a small moan as she felt the soft tongue of the blonde flick against her lip, requesting entrance which her body was more than happy to give.
The brunette felt herself being lifted up as the dancer grasped the back of her thighs, hitching her up to perch on the back of the sofa so Brittany was in between her legs, pressed flush against the olive beauty's body.
Brittany's tongue entered Santana's mouth, gliding and massaging over the Latina's own muscle. A moan erupted from the brunette's mouth at the familiar taste, which caused the dancer to smile into the kiss, retracting her tongue and pressing their lips together once more in a sweet, but quick kiss before parting for a much needed oxygen in take.
An awkward atmosphere crept in between their bodies, filling the eerie silence as coffee and blue swirled together in an intense stare. Santana gulped heavily, realising what just happened. Her face went blank, unreadable - which didn't go unnoticed by Brittany as her eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed into a curious expression.
Santana felt the sucker punch in her stomach as the pain hit her, almost toppling Santana over as she clutched on tightly to the back of the sofa, trying to regain her balance. Her lips tingled from the sensation she'd longed for, for eight gruelling months.
She felt her fingertips touch her swollen lips, remembering the taste of Brittany who currently stood in front of her, with a feared expression pasted on her face. But instead of facing the pain she knew was to come, her body reacted in the way high school Santana knew, with anger.
Santana tried to summon any words, anything at all - but nothing came out. She wanted to scream at Brittany, telling her she just couldn't just walk back into her life like nothing happened. That she couldn't keep flaunting around Dan in front of her and then act like everything's okay by kissing her.
But instead of the vicious words escaping her mouth, she clambered off the sofa, grabbing her phone and keys. She fought every urge in her body to turn around and run back into Brittany's arms, kissing her like there was no tomorrow.
But she didn't, she just slammed the door excessively loud to emphasize her dramatic escape, not even bothering to meet the piercing blue gaze she knew was watching her every movement.
The stingingly cold New York air pricked her hot cheeks, causing goose bumps to form all over her body as she'd realised she'd forgotten her coat. Instead of allowing the thoughts to invade her mind, and feel the excruciating agony that would probably kill her - she whipped open her phone, and dialled a familiar number;
"Meet me, Rivera's in ten."
Santana demanded, and with a flick of her fingers, the phone snapped shut.