So let me just apologize in advance for this chapter LOL. But um, yeah. Sorry. You'll see why *cough*.
Ahhh my first real attempt at girl-on-girl smut is here! I hope it's to your liking I just...I don't know I delved into a lot of smut fics as research, so hopefully it doesn't suck too bad. Lolz. Let me just stop talking and let you read oh God AHHHRGHRGRH. Enjoy!
I didn't speak to Quinn for a whole month after our little altercation in the hallway, but I did see her at times in the hallway, her arm around Puck's and a cigarette in her hand. Every time they walked past me in the hall I would automatically have the urge to vomit right there on the spot. I always found everyone's relationships – except mine of course – gross, but there was something about Puck and Quinn that just didn't sit right with me. Sam and Quinn made more sense to me, even though they were vomit-worthy cute. With Puck and Quinn, it was more like watching two garbage bags fornicate in the backseat of a fifty-year-old pedophile's white van.
Whatever. At least they were going strong. Kind of. Puck stayed in glee, but he always gave Sam dirty looks during meetings. I knew that was my fault, but the damage was done. I could care less as long as Quinn didn't open her mouth about me and Brittany.
We went on to win Sectionals – thanks to my flawless solo during a mash-up of Beyonce's Countdown and Adele's Set Fire to the Rain – and got to relax for the rest of December waiting around for Christmas break. It was a peaceful time for Brittany and me. She was doing well in school thanks to Stubbles, and we began to college hunt together.
New York was a dream of ours. Hell, just getting out of this shit hole of a town was a dream.
Brittany wanted to follow her passion of dance and go to Julliard, while I, as much as I loved to sing, was a bit more realistic with my choice in school and wanted to go to Cornell for a maybe a business or law degree. Both fields required me to be a bitch, and I would fit just well in on of them. Maybe I would be a prosecutor. I loved to prove bitches guilty. Or make them look guilty. Yeah.
Of course, as a back-up plan I chose colleges here in the state incase I got fucked over. Brittany didn't though, which concerned me. No matter how many times I nudged her to apply somewhere else, she would tell me, "If it's meant to happen, it'll happen". Since when did she get so fucking deep?
The last day of glee club before break was going by smoothly. Well, until Rachel Berry opened her mouth.
"I've decided to throw a party celebrating our win at Sectionals-"
"That's because of me," I interrupted.
She ignored what I said, even though it's true. I assured us all a win because of my talent, not hers.
"- and I've decided to honor all of you by inviting you."
Us? Honored? She should be honored that we were even letting her sit in this room.
I opened my mouth to reject her invite coldly, but Brittany, who was sitting close next to me, spoke before I got the chance.
"That sounds cool!"
Everyone looked at her, me included. Everyone except Rachel (and Finn, but I could care less about him) gave me a look that said "I get that you're stupid, but are you that stupid?" Brittany, being Brittany, didn't notice their stares and was instead looking at Rachel with a big grin on her face.
Rachel was obviously caught off-guard by her answer, because her mouth opened slightly as she tried to find words to say.
I loved Brittany, but didn't she know that a Rachel Berry party was just another term for suicide?
"I'm for it," Sam interjected. My first instinct was to look over at Puck who was sitting in the last seat of the second row, next to Mercedes. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.
"I'm not. No thanks." Obviously he wasn't going because of Sam, which is great for him because he had an excuse. Thanks to Britt I was fucked because wherever she went I went, even if that meant having to go to the hobbit's shire.
"Yeah whatever," was my way of saying yes, which was good enough for Berry because she smiled at me. And when Santana Lopez accepted an invite to a super lame party like that, you either went along with her or questioned her logic.
In my case, it was the former, because soon enough everyone else in the club accepted her invitation.
"There better be booze at this party Berry. Or else I's will ends you," I threatened. She nodded and assured me there would be plenty of "alcoholic beverages" available, and that we wouldn't be disappointed.
But considering this was Rachel Berry we were talking about, that seemed very unlikely.
Our last glee club meeting of the year was over, and Brittany and me walked out of the choir room hand-in-hand. We were walking toward the girl's locker room where we had placed our coats and our bags.
My hand felt so right in hers. They were meant to be held. We were just meant to be.
"Should we drink before we arrive at her party so we're not sober enough to deal with how lame it is?" I breathed out. A Rachel Berry party was definitely something that needed large amounts of alcohol consumption before attendance.
Brittany chuckled and swung our hands back and forth. "Sannie, be nice."
I rolled my eyes. I understood that she was really nice – that was one of the things I loved most about her – but sometimes her kindness bordered on naivety. It was good to be ignorant of some things in the world, but there were times I wished that she could see what I saw. She was just lucky she was the only person I had any sort of patience with.
"I can't be nice Britt, she's so fucking annoying." Since she was a freshman, seriously. Out of all the glee club members, she was the one I had the most problems with, mainly because she was way more conceited than I was and just annoyed the shit out of me. Finn was a fucking moron for leaving Quinn for her, but at the same time they deserved each other because they were both so damn pathetic.
"It's just a party," Brittany told me, looking down at her white sneakers.
I sighed. "I know, just…if you want to go then fine. We'll make it fun." Probably more fun that Rachel could.
We walked into the locker room and walked to our lockers that were, of course, right next to each other. Forced to separate our hands, I got my locker combination in a second and opened it. Not much was in my locker, just my coat and lady essentials. All my decorations were back in my regular school locker.
"San?"
I took out my coat. "Yeah?" I closed my locker and turned my head to see what she wanted.
I froze as her head appeared just a couple of inches away from mine.
She hadn't even opened her locker, she just decided to sneak attack me. A smile was on her face as she looked down at me, making my heart jog around my chest. Why was she was close to me? And that smile…
She maneuvered around me, and like a magnet I turned as she moved. She had my back against my locker, and she leaned in so her knee was leaning against the locker next to the one below mine, while the other only leaned over slightly, our pelvises lightly touching each other. She supported herself by placing her hand on the solid red barrier next to my face, and her face moved so her lips were an inch away from my own.
Oh, okay.
I could feel the air enter and exit her nostrils, tickling my skin on impact. On my end, the air circulation in my lungs had stopped completely, and my brain was unable to send signals to tell them to bring in air that could be exhaled and not cause my premature death. The only two places my brain was successful in communicating with were my heart, which was doing the manual labor of illegal Mexican immigrants in my chest right now, and the area way down below the surface that was currently flooding my underwear with desire for the beautiful blonde in front of me.
I swallowed hard.
"Hi," came out of my mouth. "Hi"? What the fuck kind of response was that?
Brittany giggled, and more hot breath tickled my lips. "Hello there Miss Lopez."
The space between our lips was filled, her lips softly connecting with mine. My heart exploded and shot down my stomach, causing a second explosion that morphed into a million butterflies going haywire. I kissed her back, and we started off slow, sensual. No rush.
No rush until my body temperature shot up fifty degrees and my Cheerios uniform was practically melting against my skin.
We slipped our tongues in at the same time, by total accident, and retracted them after our small collision. We giggled into each other's mouths because of our mistake, and this time I slipped my tongue into her mouth first. She used her tongue to greet mine, brushing against it every time it entered her mouth, and I leaned further into the kiss to get more of it. I needed more of her.
To hell with my coat, I threw it somewhere to the side.
Brittany pressed the rest of her body into me, kneeling down slightly so our heated centers pressed directly into each other. I let out a staggered breath at the feeling of this, just this simple touch was enough to throw me into an abyss of everlasting pleasure that could either be torturous or life-fulfilling, depending on how pessimistic or optimistic one's view would be. Considering I've always been a pessimistic, a trait Brittany had never been fond of, I would find being suspended in such a whirlwind of pleasure that had no end a bad thing. Everything had to end, and for something like this the ending of the torture and the feeling of completion afterwards was the best part. Why the hell would I want to desire the end of it forever if it was never going to end?
"Britt," I gasped out. Our hands weren't being used, and that was bothering me. Body touching was nowhere good enough. "Please, before Quinn or someone else ends up cockblocking us, hurry the fuck up." Was cockblocking even the right word? Was there a female term for that? Cuntblocking?
Brittany didn't have to be told twice, because her hand flew down to the back of my skirt, pulling at the zipper, while her other hand slid to my breast and massaged it roughly. I moaned into her mouth, my hands placing themselves on her hips as a reflex. I needed her closer, if that was even possible. My hands went around her hips and linked together behind her so it was like I was hugging her close to me. Pulling her more into me was pushing her center into mine, and it made my clit ache at being teased so. We really needed to get with the program before I exploded.
Brittany undid my zipper and yanked at my skirt, which fell almost instantly and exposed my black lace thong. Brittany's hand landed on my side, and slid up toward the back of my back, but I turned my head to disconnect our lips to say something.
"No," I protested. "Forget the top." That would take too long. I needed her now.
Brittany silently obeyed by moved her hand to in between my legs, squeezing it and making me moan more. It definitely wasn't helping that she was still massaging my breast with her other hand, and my brain was shooting out so many chemicals that I feared I was going to explode and drop dead before I got the chance to orgasm. "Oh…"
Her lips attached to my neck, kissing the warm flesh roughly. All that was left for me to do was throw my head back and let her have control of everything, my mouth partially open to let out air as I lost the ability to breathe properly through my nostrils. Long, broken bits of air pushed out of my windpipe, which was followed by a few moans that shot out each time Brittany kneaded her hand into my sex.
"Brittany," I breathed out. The teasing outside the underwear had to stop, she needed to get the job done.
Brittany knew though, and her hand, which was probably already drenched because of the moisture that pushed itself through the fabric of my thong, slipped right into my underwear, my center feeling the palm of her hand in a flash. I forgot how to breathe for a few seconds as I tried to adjust to the feeling, but just knowing she was so close to getting the job done almost made my lungs explode.
"San," she whispered my name in my ear, her own way of telling me that I needed to spread my legs if this was going to work out.
I knew what to do and spread my legs a reasonable distance, just enough for it to be both comfortable and pleasurable for the both of us.
And, just like that, she slipped in one finger, causing a rather loud moan to fly out my mouth. She dug the finger in deep to the last knuckle, and I could feel it navigating its way around to find my G-Spot. One finger wasn't enough, she knew it wasn't, but before I could say anything she shocked my insides by slipping in another.
"Brittany," I moaned out. I was so close, but not close enough.
She sucked on my earlobe, a big turn-on for me, as she began to thrust in and out. Creating a rhythm, she grinded into the rest of my body, her thumb rubbing roughly against by clit. My moans became loud to the point where they echoed throughout the locker room, not even caring if anyone could hear us at this point. It was after school hours, no one would be around. Hopefully.
Right now, this was two people having a good time, becoming one with each other. What would that be called, a one-flesh union? Brittany and I were one person, whether we had sex or not. But right now was when our bond with each other strengthened, our love entering the air in the forms of moans and sweat that would never be shared with anyone else but us.
No one else knew that, but that didn't even matter, because as long as we knew that was all that mattered.
"Britt-" was the last thing I managed to choke out before the end. My muscles contracted, stars entered my vision and flew around the locker room in celebration, and I let out the moan to end all moans, just as Brittany let out her own. It was like a lovers' call, signaling the end to another great love session between the two of us, telling those around us – who was no one, really – that they could never break us, separate us.
We always looked more beautiful to each other when we were on a high. Brittany's hair looked shinier and more golden, her eyes such a brilliant blue that the lights in her eyes could signal a thousand boats in all the seven seas to their destination. Her skin was no longer pale in my eyes, but a beautiful porcelain color that shone under the dull lighting of the girls' locker room. She was a goddess, my goddess. And I'm sure I looked like one to her as well.
She took her fingers out of me and brought them to her lips, a smile on her face. I realized that I was able to breathe again, but in heavy pants from my orgasm. But it was an improvement from my brain being too null to doing anything about it minutes before. All I could so was just look with sexed-up eyes as Brittany opened her mouth and sucked my liquid off her fingers.
Jesus Christ.
She took her time too, staring into my beady eyes as her fingers went in and out of her mouth repeatedly. I wasn't sure if my body could handle another go at this, but watching her do that nearly made my mouth water and send tingly feelings to my already-tingling womanhood. Academics weren't her strong point but, but she was fucking amazing at everything else.
Finally she stopped the show and took her fingers out her mouth, licking her lips afterwards. She gave me her famous Pierce grin as she leaned in towards my face, our lips brushing along each other but not touching completely.
"How was that?" she asked me in a soft, sensual tone.
My eyes went to her lips, those beautiful thin lips I loved to kiss so much. Why was she so perfect?
"I love you," I told her with heavy breathe, a smile growing on my face. And I did, so much.
Brittany kissed my lips softly, her own way of saying that she loved me too.
One day she was going to be the death of me.
As planned, Brittany and I arrived at Rachel's with two cans of Budweiser in our systems.
I wore a skin-tight super short long sleeved dark blue dress with a black leather vest trimmed with white faux fur on the collar and knee-high black leather boots with two-inch heels, my hair pushed back by a simple dark blue head band made just to match my dress. Brittany, who always lost track of what time of year it was, wore green capris with a short sleeve white frilly shirt and white flats, choosing to leave her hair loose and free. She came to my house wearing just that, so when it was time for us to drive over to Berry's house, I had her wear one of my coats. No girlfriend of mine was going to get pneumonia on my watch.
"Hi Brittany!" Rachel first greeted my secret girlfriend with a bright smile, a smile that weakened upon looking at my beautiful face. "Hello Santana."
Brittany opened her mouth to say hello back, but I interjected. "There better be booze here, Berry." I let myself in, grabbed Brittany by the hand and dragged her with me. By the sound of the Barbra Streisand song downstairs, the party must've been in her basement.
"There are alcoholic refreshments available downstairs," I heard Rachel say just as I started to walk downstairs toward her basement. "Help yourself!" By the sound of her hobbit feet she was obviously following us.
Thank God because I wasn't going to survive this with just two cans of Bud in my bloodstream.
Rachel's basement was at least appealing to the eye. Pretty modern, whatever. The only thing that bothered me was the retarded Barbra Streisand music. What was this, the Exodus?
Everyone else in the glee club, except Puck obviously, was here. Sam was with his jungle fever fling Jordin Sparks, Finn was hanging out with Stubbles, Priscilla Queen of the Desert, and Mr. and Mrs. Miyagi. The gang was all here, and, like me, were wondering who the fuck died and made Rachel queen of the music playlist.
"Go on," I told Brittany, separating our hands. "I have to do something about this music before I give Berry a proper nose job."
"Um, I'm right here," I heard her behind me.
"Right." I walked over to her rather expensive-looking stereo system and inspected it. For a lame extra on the set of Lord of the Rings she had some fancy shit in this house, maybe it was the whole having two gay dads thing or whatever. "Does this thing connect to an iPod?"
Rachel appeared next to me and nodded. "Yes there's a plug right there-"
I already found the plug so I didn't need her help with it. "Thanks." I pressed the eject button, the horrible Jewish girls' anthem stopping abruptly, took out the CD and shoved it into Berry's hands and hooked up my iPod to the stereo. Now we could have real music.
First to play from my playlist: LMFAO's "Sexy and I Know It".
Everyone at the party seemed to liven up, because I heard a couple of cheers. Yeah that's right, Santana Lopez was here to save the day from Frodo's twin sister.
"Hey Santana," Sam greeted me as I walked over and took off my coat. Brittany was sitting next to Mercedes and chatting it up, leaving me to distract Sam from his American Idol winner.
"'Sup Trout." Sam had a bottle of Stella Artois in his hand which he held out to me. "That's what I'm talking about." I grabbed the bottle, which was pre-opened because Trouty Mouth was so polite, and took a nice, long sip. Bubbly goodness streamed down my throat and made it burn slightly. Ah, yes. I placed the bottle between my legs to take something else out.
"Want a smoke?" I offered as I dug through my coat pocket, even though Sam's probably never smoked in his life. I took out a pack of Camel and held it up to him.
He raised an eyebrow, a look questioning my sanity, and shook his head. "No thanks."
I shrugged. "Your loss," I said as I took one out and pulled out a lighter from the same pocket.
Brittany saw this and she quickly popped her head out from behind Mercedes. "Santana!"
I stuck the cigarette in my mouth and gave her a look. "What?"
Brittany raised a finger and waved it as if I were a child doing something naughty. I rolled my eyes and took the cigarette out of my mouth.
"You suck," I groaned. Only she had the power to tell me what to do, and with the way she looked at me it just guilt me into not doing it. I shoved the cigarette back into the pack and put all my smoking essentials away. Damn it, I needed a fucking smoke.
The party wasn't too bad for a Rachel Berry party, but it could've just been all the drinking and laughing we did. Turned out that Rachel's parents were packing with the booze, all locked away in some secret wine cellar that Sam managed to break into, and all around drinks like vodka, gin, and beer from other countries were passed.
Alcohol's fun, after all.
"Who wants to play spin the bottle?" A very drunk Rachel yelled out. She was crazy, right? Most of the people here were in a relationship.
Everyone was hesitant to answer, but it was ultimately Sam who answered. "Uh, Rachel. Most of us have girlfriends and boyfriends. That's be like cheating."
Finn was the only one who was sober, being the lame-o he'd always been, and he sheepishly took a sip out of the red solo cup in his hands whilst sitting the corner.
Even though I was a bit tipsy, my brain reminded me of the girl I was in love with, and even I wasn't interested in the game. So I agreed with Sam without revealing that I too was taken. "Yeah Berry, Angelina Jolie's little brother is right. I wouldn't want to cause any guys here to break up with their girlfriends."
Rachel frowned. What, did she think I was after her man or something? Gross.
Mercedes and Tina were sitting on the floor beside the sober Finn, laughing at what must've been nothing. They were weird when they were drunk.
I wasn't completely drunk though. Usually when I was I would start crying and probably end up sobbing into someone's – that someone being Brittany – lap and confessing my love for a certain someone a million times. That wouldn't go very well right now since I wasn't out, so for once I was actually careful on my alcohol intake. And I had to monitor Brittany's as well because she loved to take off her clothes when she was hammered.
Speaking of Brittany, where was she? I sat with Sam on the homemade stage that Rachel had in her basement, looking around. I couldn't find Brittany anywhere. Weird.
I rested my head on Sam's shoulder, something I would never do if I was one hundred percent sober. As long as I didn't end up sobbing I would be fine.
"Oh Sammy," I sighed out. "Even with these five Stellas and ten shots in my system, I still think you and Aretha Franklin are a horrible match together."
Sam's cheeks were painted with a pink hue that proved he was drunker than me, his eyes partially open and a dumb smile glazed over his face. Who the hell was going to drive him home after this was the question. Maybe Finnocence.
"I know."
Did he just…what?
I lifted my head from his shoulder and looked at up, eyebrows pressed closely together in an incredulous look. Was I drunk or did he seriously just say that? "What?"
Sam's eyes were moist. I wasn't sure if that was from being piss drunk or he was on the verge of tears. I was alerted, definitely, and I leaned closer to him to sort this out. "Sam, what?"
"I love Quinn, Santana," he told me quietly so Mercedes wouldn't hear him. She was too busy laughing like a hyena with Tina on the other side of the basement anyway, she wouldn't notice. But I still couldn't believe he was telling me this, what happened to liking Mercedes?
"Sam-"
"I'm pathetic, I know." He wiped his eyes before he got the chance to start crying. "I know she dumped me. But…I like Mercedes. A lot. She's a good person, I just…"
He took a deep breathe. He was fighting really hard not to break down.
I couldn't let him speak like this anymore. I did a very un-Santana thing and pulled him in for a hug, my face resting in his shaggy golden hair. His hair then reminded me of Brittany, and how she was completely absent from the party. My eyes scanned the room, my face still in Sam's hair, as I looked for my love. And, now that I thought about it, Stubbles as well because it took me until just now to notice that he wasn't around either.
Brittany and Artie weren't here. The Brittany and Artie that dated all of last year.
What the fuck.
Then the door to the wine cellar caught my eye. The door was ajar, when it was wide open before after we ransacked the inside for booze. Gee, I wonder why.
"Trout, I have to abandon you for like two seconds," I told him, releasing him from my grasp and getting up. It was Detective Lopez time.
"Okay," he muttered, and I left him for the wine cellar. If there wasn't a good reason for why those two were alone, I was going to blow a fuse.
I stood by the door, afraid to open it because I had no idea what I was going to find inside. But I could hear voice well enough, the mix of loud music and alcohol not impairing my sense of hearing. And it was Artie speaking.
"…please Brittany."
Please what? I clenched my fists to keep myself from barging in and knocking those telescopes off Kermit's face.
Brittany spoke next. I would recognize that angelic voice from anywhere.
"Artie, I love Santana." Of course she did, why wouldn't she?
"You told me you loved me last year, too. You can't tell me you easily pushed that aside." Uh, yeah she can.
"I know."
Wait, what?
"So then? Can't you see she just manipulates you all the time? She's always manipulated you! That's not love Britt. People who love each other don't do that."
"Yeah well, people who love each other don't insul-"
"I made one mistake, Brittany. One. And you broke up with me over that one mistake. And I'm sorry. I've been sorry since I first said it. I was just really upset, I didn't mean to call you that."
Silence. The only thing I could hear was the drums in my head from the anger that built up in my stomach. What the hell kind of conversation was this?
"Artie," Brittany broke the silence and the drums subsided to let me hear. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't have feelings for you, honest. But things happen for a reason. We just weren't meant to be."
My heart suffocated.
"You're not looking at me when you say that Brittany. Look me in the eye and tell me that."
More silence. And this time the silence lasted a long time.
Too long.
Move Santana!
My hand wrapped around the bronze handle, choking the life out of it as if it was in a wheelchair and wearing glasses. I pulled as hard as I could, and the door willingly flew itself open at my touch. I didn't give the two any kind of warning, not even a battle cry for when I-
For when I saw Brittany on both knees to be on Stubbles' level, her face completely in his and her lips frozen against…she was…
Artie was kissing Brittany. Brittany was kissing Artie.
My universe flipped upside down. There was a shattering sound that echoed into my ears and throughout the rest of the world. My chest combusted, the debris of my heart dripping in my insides. My arms hung lifelessly against my sides, losing the life to move them ever again. The knives of betrayal that Brittany threw at me dug straight into my hollow chest with a force so powerful I had to step back to endure it.
The woman I loved was kissing someone else.
What was I to say? I stood there silently, watching them. Neither moved, not even their lips. They were statues. Cold, heartless statues. And I tortured myself by looking at them.
I watched as sense came back to Brittany. Her eyes opened and looked directly at me.
Even when revealed as a traitor, those eyes still shone.
Seeing me, knowing that she'd been caught, she immediately separated herself from Artie and looked at me with her mouth partially open. Artie gave Brittany a confused look, but when he followed her line of sight his eyes fell upon my face. Instead of a surprised look, his lips formed a straight line. He basically told me silently, "Yeah, I kissed your woman. So what?"
I didn't care about fucking Stubbles, though. My eyes were locked on Brittany's face. The face of betrayal and guilt. More knives stabbed into my chest.
"San…" was what gave me the will to move.
I turned on my heel away from them and back out into the party. I had no urge to cry, nor to scream or kill something. Well, okay I wanted to kill Stubbles for fucking me over in the end, but I wasn't going to make a scene here. Making a scene would just reveal my secrets to everyone.
I forced a smile on my face as I looked at the partygoers who were all in their own little conversations. I threw my hands up into the air, acting like I was the happiest person in the world.
"Hey guys!" I caught their attention. Several pairs of eyes looked my way.
From the corner of my eye I could see Brittany walking out of the wine cellar, probably to try and convince me that it wasn't what it looked like or whatever. But I was tired of talking.
"Britts and Artie are finally back together! Isn't that great?" So much sarcasm in my voice. Venomous, biting sarcasm that could only be seen by those who had betrayed me. To everyone else it was a true face of happiness.
Everyone raised their glass – or cup, rather – and cheered on the new happy couple. Awesome.
I walked over to my coat and picked it up. I was leaving. It was too painful to be here. The knives were causing love to bleed out of my chest, and I had to get home before I ended up dying of the loss of emotion. I erased Brittany and Artie from my vision, seeing it fit to just not thinking about them even though they were in the same room. I couldn't. It hurt too much.
"You're leaving?" Sam walked up to me and blinked.
"Yep. Need a ride?" I put my coat on.
Sam shook his head. "Finn's driving me."
"Cool. Night Sam." I turned toward the staircase, not wanting to say goodbye to anyone else, and saw Brittany still standing by the door of the wine cellar, Artie at her side. Gross.
At least my bleeding chest bled out all my tipsiness.
I headed up toward the stairs, not saying a word to Brittany because I was sure her new boyfriend would give her a ride home. She wasn't my responsibility anymore.
My hand turned the knob, but before I could open the door I heard a voice behind me.
"San, wait!" Brittany.
Seppuku to my chest.
But I said nothing. I opened the door and walked out.
Brittany followed me, not caring about the cool night air. "San, please wait!"
She grabbed my hand, which just shot tiny daggers up the nerves in my arm. It hurt for her to touch me, I didn't want her to touch me. The force made me stop walking, but I didn't dare turn around to look at her.
"That wasn't what it looked like."
Exactly what I thought she would say.
"You still have feelings for him." It wasn't a question. "You'd be lying to him if you said you didn't, right?"
Her grip on me tightened, and so did my heart.
"San I…I love you more."
She wasn't denying that she still loved him.
"Don't be stupid, Brittany," I hissed. Now I was saying things to hurt her. "You can't love two people at the same time. And as I recall you made your choice five minutes ago." I yanked my hand away from her, still refusing to look in her direction.
She was silent now. Good. I'm sure the stupid remark shut her up.
I had nothing else left to say. I left her in the cool December air, not looking back as I entered my car and drove off.
It wasn't until I got home that night, and entered the safe haven that was my room, that I finally decided to break down and cry myself to sleep.
The hardest I'd ever cried in my life.