A/N: I randomly thought of this old Quinntana prompt that I wrote, but must have only posted it on my old tumblr back in 2013. There may have been a second/third part, but I will need to hunt.

Prompt: Quinntana / Adele - Someone Like You

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Someone Like You

Sweaty hands gripped and un-gripped the steering wheel in an anxious attempt to keep her focus on the road ahead. A permanent frown marred her features, the deep creases having remained unmoved since their original appearance a week prior. As she pulled up at the stop sign, she glanced in the rear view mirror, taking in the bags that hung beneath her eyes, not able to ignore the defeat that stared back at her in dulled hazel.

Looking out of the windscreen, shoulders drooped as she deflated visibly; the dark sky was lit only by the last few rays of sun as it set, reflecting her current state of mind in an eerie perfection.

It was a week to the day since an excitable Santana had called her, practically squealing about what Dani had just asked her. Stupid as it was; her friend's tone had told her everything, yet still; the words came, unable to stop them tumbling from her dry mouth. "What did you say?" She'd felt numb. Like her body knew the immense pain that was coming her way and just decided to turn itself off, a theory backed up by the way her lungs refused to take in any oxygen.

Shaking the memory from her head, she moved off, eventually turning into the driveway she'd come to accept as Santana's new home. She turned off the ignition and dread built in her stomach as she sat, staring up at the house –trying in vain to tell herself that this wouldn't be so bad.

Practically dragging herself out of the car, Quinn clenched her jaw and took heavy steps, as though she was walking the mile, like death was awaiting her on the other side of the door. She tried to swallow past the uncomfortable lump that had found home in her throat, Quinn had to make a conscious effort to prevent herself from hurling into the flower bed to her right and even more so, to not simply turn and run away. She was almost entirely sure she should just jump back into her car, that she should drive away and keep on going until she disappeared completely.

Against her better judgment, she knocked on the wooden door. An irrational voice in the back of her head tried to convince her that maybe no one would be home. Her stomach sunk as she heard movement, despite the fact she'd been specifically invited over; there was no getting out of it.

The door flew open, snapping Quinn out of her stupor and a flash of brown hair was the only warning she got before her best friend was tackling her in a bear hug. Eyes closing softly, it was like having the woman so close brought her to life again –her body instantly reacting to the warmth of Santana. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribcage, and hoped Santana hadn't notice the catch in her breath. She was surrounded by the comforting smell that had never failed to calm her, even when it felt like the world was over.

Reminding herself of where she stood, Quinn patted Santana's back in a gesture to separate, hating herself for cutting the moment short, but knowing self-preservation came at a price. It was like a bomb had dropped and all sound had gone unnoticed, except now as her friend pulled away and her eyes were drawn as ever to full lips, she finally registered the voice that had been pushed into the background.

"Yeah. Yeah, my trip was fine," she finally responded. A small smile curled on her lips as she spoke, recycling the same mask she'd adorned since freshman year, which coincidentally felt like a lifetime ago.

Allowing herself to be pulled into the house, she gratefully accepted the glass of wine offered and swallowed almost half in one swig. She ignored the subtle raise of an eyebrow from Santana.

"Rough week at work," was the only explanation she gave, as she shrugged her shoulders lightly. Apparently it was good enough because the brunette was back to pouring chips into various bowls on the coffee table, as though it wasn't just going to be them, gossiping about the recent developments.

It was an hour or two later and the bottle of red had been going down far too easily. Both women were more than a little tipsy and had managed to cover a wide range of topics as they reminisced over the past few years. The feeling Quinn had, the one of comfort, ease –the feeling of being at home was imbedded into her, as glassy, hazel eyes took in the woman on her left.

In an act of betrayal, her mind took off, questioning what it would be like had she been the one to ask. If Santana had said yes, and it was them about to spend the rest of their lives together. If she was sober, she'd have shaken her head out of it and allowed the pain to return, sharper than the usual dull ache, as it always was in these kinds of moments. But she wasn't sober, so closing her eyes, she let her head fall gently to the seat of the sofa they were leant against, allowing herself to be swept away with the impossibility.

A wave of emotion swept over Quinn, forcing her eyes to open, to stare up at the ceiling. How long had she been holding this in?

Too long.

It hadn't taken her long to recognize the attraction she felt to Santana but the events of that Valentine's Day all those years ago had shocked her none the less. Recalling the past, she couldn't help but berate herself for ever questioning her feelings.

Always one step behind; always one minute too late. She'd finally accepted who she was and more importantly, what Santana meant to her –what she could mean to her. Turning up in New York, she remembered that gut-wrenching moment when she'd walked into the loft behind Rachel. The sight of Santana curled into Dani leaving her to feign illness as she spent the rest of the trip avoiding them.

Yes, it had been a long time; several years. Six if she were being specific, and far longer if she recounted the now explained feelings of her high school self.

Letting her head roll to the side once more, her eyes landed on the beautiful brunette, her best friend of over 8 years. It scared her to think of how things would change after the wedding. Whilst she'd never dared to breathe a word of her secret to anyone, she couldn't help but wonder how those two small words would affect her existance.

Maybe it was the liquor, maybe it was the feeling of time running out, but Quinn found herself preparing to spill it all. Ready to admit how long she'd loved the woman before her, how much of her life she'd devoted to appreciating her every breath. The hand-written confessions that lay un-sent in a box beneath her bed, and the truth behind her failed relationships.

Her mouth opened in an attempt to finally be honest, to do what she should have done all those years ago, when the only thing on the line was a girlfriend of one month, as opposed to a lifetime of love and happiness. It wasn't so much to try and sway her, but rather the need for closure, the need to let it out, so it wouldn't continue to burn away at her insides.

Santana's head snapped towards her, reaching out for the blonde's hand as she unknowingly interrupted the beginning of a conversation she'd waited a lifetime to start.

"So, as much as I enjoy drunk ass Quinn... this isn't all I invited you over here for," and that was all she needed to hear. She knew what was coming, she wanted to yank her hand away and spit venomous words as her heart splintered into a million pieces. How could she be so heartless?!

Instead, she sat still, listening as the brunette continued.

"I was wondering, as my best friend, if… well... I want you to be my maid of honour. No outshining me though!"

Rolling her eyes with a smile at the typical Santana add on, she couldn't ignore the distinct need to hurl. Pushing it down, she pulled her friend into a hug, begging her voice to remain steady as she spoke softly into her hair.

"Of course San, you know I'd do anything for you."