Brittany
I have spent the last three days hauled up in bed. Which most people – including me – would think was unbearable. However, I can now tell you without a shadow of a doubt that what is even more unbearable is the way in which the person that you discovered not too long ago that you loved; the person who you kissed; the person that you wish would see you as an adult, is treating you like an poorly three year old.
All I could manage to do in my sparse moments of coherency was curse whoever it was who gave me this damn flu. It has caused me nothing but grief.
Flashback
I was looking sheepishly and embarrassedly at Santana, wondering if her stunned expression was due to the brief – but nevertheless mind-blowing – kiss we had just shared or the fact that I had just sneezed in very close proximity to her face. I hoped to any higher beings – which I guessed was Santana – that nothing had landed on her.
Before I could do anything in the way of controlling any damage I may have caused, another sneeze racked through my body. Thankfully, this seemed to have snapped Santana out of her daze and her eyes focused back onto me instead of looking through me as they had been doing before.
Although I wasn't entirely sure that this was a good thing as Santana's eyes widened in panic and concern and she instantly reached out to press a palm against my forehead. I thought it was weird that her palm seemed normal temperature rather than the toasty warmth which I was used to. "Oh no! Your temperature appears to be increasing!"
"I'm fine." I tried to tell her, but the sound of my now nasally voice increases both her panic and my embarrassment simultaneously.
"Do not lie to me Brittany." She told me sternly. "You clearly are not fine at all."
As she spoke she somehow managed to lift my larger frame into her petite arms and stand up, mumbling: "This is my fault entirely. Of course humans should not be exposed to such harsh weather conditions. Fool!"
I tried to tell her to stop berating herself but my head was throbbing too much to even get an idea of where she was carrying me let alone to make any form of articulate speech other than, "Ugh!".
I had just about managed to summon the strength to tell her that I am fully capable of walking on my own when I felt the soft cushion of a mattress under me. It was then that I realised that the rain had stopped hitting me with its consistent wetness against my skin.
I breathed in trying to get a scent of the place where we were to smell if it was familiar. My inhalation didn't get very far however and so I let my lungs deflated, longing for the breath of air they had been promised.
Santana must have read the question in my furrowed brows because she spoke to me then, in that calming voice that makes me sleepy.
"We are home now, Britt-Britt." Although my insides squirmed at the nickname I couldn't help but feel disappointed that she had reverted back to the name she had used when I had first arrived here and it was obvious that she had thought of me as a child rather than an adult.
"M'kay." Seeped from my mouth tiredly. My mind worked sluggishly as I worked to think. I wondered if this tiredness was the result of my sudden illness or if it was one of Santana's influences. I hoped that she wasn't using her powers to manipulate my body but I guessed that she would probably be doing it for a good reason.
There was a long stretch of silence and I wondered if I had fallen asleep and Santana had used the opportunity to leave and freak out without the possibility of me overhearing. I forced my eyes open to see if I could see her.
As soon as my eyes had opened I had spotted her. She was stood at the foot of the bed with a look of despair and helplessness on her face. She was just standing; looking down at me where I lay sprawled out over my sheets.
"What're y'doin'?" I mumbled as I fought my eyes to keep open. If I wasn't in love with her I'm sure that I would have found it pretty weird that she was just stood at the foot of my bed staring at me.
At the sound of my voice her eyes snap up to meet mine making me realise that they weren't there in the first place. What was she looking at?
"I- I just-" she let out an annoyed huff, rubbing the back of her neck. Her eyes flicked down my body again before returning to my droopy gaze again. She sighed before speaking again.
"You need to get out of these wet clothes, Brittany." She almost whined as if she was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Maybe it was my groggy mind but I didn't understand why she would feel like this.
"Ok." I mumbled around a yawn.
I moved to grab the bottom of my t shirt, ready to lift it over my head when I realised that my limbs hadn't moved.
Since when did my arms turn to lead?
It was with great effort that I lifted my arms and gripped the bottom of my t-shirt. I glanced at Santana and notice that she had her back turned to me. I was glad to be honest; because that means that she probably didn't see my fumbling. I attempted to brace my trembling arms as well as I could before giving an almighty tug to the hem of my t-shirt.
My dazed mind was easily confused by the darkness surrounding me and it took me a couple of seconds and the recognition of the feel of dampened fabric on my face to realise that my arms had given up halfway through and were now laying limply on either side of my head.
I tried to remove the wet material from my face but found that my lethargic limbs lacked the strength to move in this position. I was becoming increasingly aware of the goose bumps rising along my stomach in reaction to the cool air chilling my rain soaked skin. I felt the pathetic whine bubble in the back of my throat but was helpless to stop it.
"Brittany? Are you okay? Have you finished?" I could tell by the slight muted quality in her voice that she was still facing away from me.
I am by no means proud of what I did next.
"San? I'm stuck." I whimpered pathetically, unravelling all of the hard work I had done in an attempt to make her see me as an adult in a matter of three words.
In my defence, I couldn't really control what was coming out of my mouth at that moment. I felt cold and uncomfortable and helpless in the darkness that I had created for myself. I was a dancer. I worked tirelessly to control my body's movements and now I was unable to perform the simplest task. Not to mention the fact that Santana was about to see me almost naked for the first time and it was not at all how I had imagined it. I felt completely vulnerable.
"Oh Britt." Santana cooed, tugging my top back down so that she could see my face. I think that made me feel even worse and instantly regret my earlier utterance.
Santana wasn't awkward or anything as she stroked my hair. She didn't seem fazed at all by the fact that my stomach was still on show. And why would she, she thinks I'm just a little kid who feels sick. Great.
"Okay, Britt-Britt. I will slowly lift you so that you are sat up, okay?" she told me softly, grabbing onto my wrists and doing as she had said.
My head instantly throbbed with pain as blood rushed through it. It felt heavy and I did nothing to stop it as it rolled back slightly. I swayed a bit in my place and I did nothing but watch as Santana placed my hands on each of her shoulders, pausing slightly to ensure that I had a firm grip.
"Ready?" she asked me, her fingers playing with the hem of my shirt. I hummed, forgoing any head movement. I saw her eyes close and her lips move for a couple of seconds, mouthing words that I would never hear, before she pulled my shirt over my head. The goose bumps were back, although I think that this time it was due to the way the backs of her knuckles grazed along the skin of my ribs and the sensitive underside of my arms rather than the cold.
As soon as my head popped free from the shirt I fell back to the bed, exhausted by the effort it took to simply stay sat up. I looked up at Santana and noticed how white her knuckles were as she gripped my shirt in both hands. Her eyes were looking up at the ceiling and she murmured something along the lines of, "Mercy, give me strength."
I closed my eyes again, simply wanting to sleep at this moment. I hoped that Santana would join me. I found that I slept better when she was there. Not that I slept bad before, it's just that when she lies with me it's the most comfortable I have felt in my entire life.
"We have to do your jeans too Brittany." She spoke softly, but it wasn't the coo from before. It was more like she was speaking in a way that suggested that she was reluctant to speak any louder for fear of making this moment more real and then it would bring into question whether she should really be undressing me. I was aware that if she only saw me as a child that she was taking care of then it shouldn't be a problem. The fact that it seemed like it could be a problem gave me hope that she saw me as more than that.
As soon as my sluggish mind produced these thoughts however, they were simply cast aside in tiredness. In response to her question I merely made another humming sound that would express my consent.
She must have understood what it was that I was trying to say because the next thing I knew there were millions of tingles and shocks coursing through my body as Santana's timid fingers brushed against my abdomen as she attempted to undo the button trapping me into my jeans.
There was a brief pause containing a sigh once this task was completed. Then there was the slightest pressure as my zip was pulled slowly and carefully down.
"Britt?" was whispered. Although I heard it, my mind refused to give me the information of how to answer the quiet words and so I remained silent.
"Ugh! What is happening to me?" Santana asked of no one in particular that I was aware of. Her voice had taken on a pleading quality that made want to reach out and sooth her. Unfortunately my body would not respond to any such command and I lied there, prone, as Santana worked at removing my jeans.
"All done." I heard Santana murmur.
I felt a hand sweeping my hair back from my forehead and soft lips pressing to the skin there as a warm, woolly blanket was pulled over my body. It wasn't the right kind of warmth though.
"Stay." Was all I managed to mumble, with heavy lips and a sluggish tongue.
The hand in my hair stilled. I was drowning fast, sleep taking me under far too quickly. I fought the current though, needing to know the answer.
I got it when I felt a familiar heat wrap around me.
XXX
Despite a promising end to the previous night. As I awoke the next morning I was instantly made aware of the lack of something – or rather someone – from my bed.
I wasn't left wondering for long however as a cheery Santana came in with vegetable soup on a tray for me. She helped me sit up and allowing the covers to drop in the process, bringing to my attention that I now had a large t-shirt covering my torso. As I was propped against the several large and extremely fluffy pillows which magically appeared behind me I couldn't stop myself from feeling disappointed when Santana sat on a chair next to me rather than sitting beside me on the bed.
I really didn't want to eat the soup but I didn't want to offend her – or rather Puck – with my lack of appetite so I tried to force some of it down.
Over the next couple of days Santana had been great. She had an excellent bedside manner and rarely left my side unless it was to go and get me something else that I needed. I had a feeling that she could have just made it appear in front of her like she did with so many other things but was aware that I needed the time alone. Not because I didn't want to sit with her, but because I was self conscious of blowing my nose in front of her.
Which was why whenever she left the room I took out huge piles of tissues and frantically blew my nose in order to still maintain some of my dignity around her. Still, dignity was wearing pretty thin when I was coughing and hacking in front of her for ninety-five percent of the time that I was awake. I was glad that she was there to sympathetically rub my back though.
XXX
So here I was on day number three and I was almost positive that I had gotten through the worse of my illness and that I should be up and running in no time. Although I couldn't be sure.
All I did know was that Santana was reading Dr Seuss to me and I had had enough. Not of Dr Seuss – that guy's a literary genius – but of Santana seeing me as a child.
"Santana." I interrupted her reading, my nose wasn't blocked anymore but I had lost my voice after all of those coughing fits so I merely spoke in a hushed rasp.
She paused in her reading and looked up at me, eyes expectant as she waited for me to proceed. I decided to get straight to it.
"Do you see me as a little kid?" I looked directly into her eyes, trying to gouge her reaction. She simply smiled playfully at me.
"Of course not, Brittany. You are taller than me and I know for a fact that you are not a baby goat." She joked, taking my words literally.
I rolled my eyes, ignoring the slight twinge of pain I received from my swollen sinuses for my efforts.
"That's not what I meant and you know it." my voice whistled and squeaked with the effort to make itself known.
"Brittany, what is this about?" she asked, placing her book down and looking at me with furrowed brows.
I shrug, picking at one of the many blankets resting on my lap.
"I dunno. I guess it's because I know that you're a lot older and maybe have experienced more things than me but that doesn't mean that I'm completely naïve and immature just because I'm only seventeen. I mean, seventeen is considered quite mature and I think that I am more mature than most people my age what with everything that has happened lately. I just don't want you to think that I'm that three year old that you saw before, because I've changed. I'm older now." During the course of my speech, Santana had leaned her elbows on the edge of my bed as she watched me intently, giving me her full attention.
I wasn't sure how much she had caught of what I had said, I was aware that my voice vanished completely at some points, but I think that she got the main gist of things.
"Brittany, I must admit that I am slightly confused. What is it that you mean exactly when you say that I have 'experienced' more than you?" I feel my cheeks heat up instantly at the fact that she had picked up on that.
She must have taken my tinted skin as an indicator because before I even had the chance to formulate a response she broke the silence with I soft 'oh' of recognition. I glanced at her to see her watching me before quickly looking away, wishing that I had never said anything at all.
"Brittany, listen to me." She instructed, taking a hold of my hand to gain my attention.
I looked back at her to see her watching me with imploring eyes, making absolutely sure that I was listening before beginning to speak.
"Maturity is by no means whatsoever linked to sex. Of that, I can assure you. Nor is it necessarily in direct correlation with age. It comes from responsibility and how well you handle it. Do not worry about this whole sex business." She dismissed it as if she was frightened that I'd suddenly run away and sleep with the next random person that I came across.
"Don't you think sex is important at all?" now that we were on the subject, I wanted to know why she was so quick to dismiss it. I mean, it must have something to do with maturity if there's an age limit on it.
"I am afraid I would not be the correct person to answer that question as I have not engaged in sexual intercourse. But from what I hear, sex is a key factor in any healthy relationship. So of course, to some people, it matters a great deal I would assume." I was glad that she had put aside the Dr Seuss book; I didn't think that Thing 1 or Thing 2 had any place in this discussion.
As soon as I had gotten over that thought, and the thought that Santana sounded very much like a school teacher right now, I realised what it was that she had said.
"Wait, you've never had…?" I couldn't finish the thought. I wasn't implying that I thought she was slutty or anything. It was just that she had been alive for a long time, and I bet she wasn't short of offers. I found it strange – and very relieving – that she hadn't gotten around to doing it yet. Especially with the way everyone says how amazing it is.
"No, I have not. Do you remember how Sam told you that there was another who is the opposite of me?" she asks, I nod in reply.
"Well she is the one who nurtures life and everything included in that. That includes love and sex. Which is, I suppose, the reason why I have never had the desire to copulate with another. It does not concern me, as I have never had the desire." She states this all so matter-of-factly and I am left with my jaw slightly open in the face of being stricken completely dumb.
"So you've never had the urge to kiss someone?" It's the closest we've come to discussing what happened that night at the clearing and I can see it in her eyes that she's thinking about it too.
"Not before…" she trails off, uncertain of how to finish the sentence.
"Before what?" I prompt.
"Simply… before." She finishes.
I changed the tactics, seeing that I wouldn't get any answers if I kept pushing that subject.
"You never answered my question before." I told her, watching the patterns which she was drawing on the bed sheets she was still leaning on. She looked at me, waiting for a clue.
"Do you think that I am a little child still?" I looked her dead in the eyes, waiting for the answer. She looked away before looking back at me, resignation in her eyes. She sighed.
"You are not a child, Brittany. But you are still only seventeen." She told me evenly.
"That's old enough!" I shouted in frustration and anger, which only heightened further as my voice came out squeaky. Santana was understandably taken aback by my outburst and placed a hand on my forearm in a placating gesture.
"Old enough for what?" she asked gently. But I didn't answer her, I couldn't talk anymore. I would only be further infuriated by my nonexistent voice and Santana's apparent clueless-ness.
Instead, I reached forward and grabbed her face, leaving her with no chance of escape as I brought our lips together. The kiss was soft despite my anger and my frustrated outburst. As soon as our lips came into contact it was everything I could do to stop my heart beating out of my chest and into her's. Her lips, which were frozen at first due to shock, became softer under the insistence of my own. They became pliable as I moved my own against her's and I felt a shiver run down her spine from where my hand was currently place at the nape of her silken neck.
I felt her own hands move to hold my wrists, but instead of prying me off of her like I suspected she would, she used her grip to pull me closer. I followed her silent command willingly, eagerly and used my hold on her neck to drag her further into me. I felt a shuddering gasp against my lips and relished in the taste of pure Santana on my lips. My tongue creeped out hesitantly, hoping to find more but not wanting to push things too far.
My fears seemed to be unwarranted as my tongue was eagerly taken into a hot cavern of sweet deliciousness by Santana's plump lips which then fervently sucked at the muscle it had captured. I felt like I was melting in the best way possible. Before I could stop to think about the consequences I moaned lowly. It came out as more of a squeak but either the sound or the vibration was enough to tip Santana off and to bring her out of her apparent daze.
All movements slowed down until Santana was loosening her lip's grip, allowing me to collect my tongue from inside of her mouth – although I really didn't want to.
We parted completely until I was once again resting against the fluffy pillows and Santana was sat in her chair – although I really hadn't even been aware that she had gotten out of her chair.
I watched Santana move. She seemed to be dazed. I wasn't entirely sure if it was in a good way or not. Her fingers slowly came up to touch her lips and my stomach knotted at the sudden thought that I had kissed those lips. I felt a lazy smile sprawl across my face as I remembered the kiss, and all of the sensations that it had brought.
I have kissed Santana Lopez. I thought dreamily.
"What have I done?" the sound of the panicked voice snapped me back to reality.
Santana was sat looking at me with wide eyes, fingers still touching her lips. Her eyes glanced down to my lips, which I was pretty certain were swollen, before looking quickly across the room, as far away from me as possible.
"San, it's okay." I began but was interrupted.
"I am so sorry, Brittany. So sorry. I am supposed to protect you, not… this!" she was turning frantic and I could sense what was about to happen and so I grabbed her hand quickly before she could disappear again like she had that one morning we had almost kissed.
She turned back to look at me with wide apologetic eyes and I looked at her with a pleading stare of my own.
"Don't leave, San. Just, whatever you do, promise that you won't leave me." I couldn't handle that kind of rejection mere moments after our first big kiss. I knew that she wouldn't want to do that either – she just needed reminding.
She seemed to calm under my stare and took a shuddery breath before nodding shakily.
"Okay. I will not." She assured me and it's all I needed. I smiled at her gratefully before tugging on her hand.
"I'm tired. Come and cuddle me." I told her, not giving her the chance to say no. She still hesitated though.
"Please? I'm more comfortable when you're here. You're nice and warm." I told her and she relented with a smile, crawling under the covers with me.
I tugged the hand that I was still holding until it wrapped around my waist and then I rested my head against her chest, listening to the soothing sound of silence. Her nurturing hand rubbing my back soothed the pains of my chest infection and I was able to drift off into a peaceful sleep.
XXX
Although I would love to say that after that day Santana and I got together and talked about our feelings and had awesomely hot make out sessions ten times a day. I can't say that though because it would be a lie.
Actually the last couple of weeks have been pretty busy for the both of us. I had my dance show coming up and so Mike and I had been going to the studio everyday for rehearsals which were as gruelling as they were fun. I wasn't entirely sure what Santana was doing. She told me that she had a lot of things to catch up on after she had spent that week with me not doing anything. And I guess that I believe her, but it also feels a lot like she's avoiding me. When we do see each other it's usually when other people are around meaning that we can't talk about the one thing that I really want to be talking about.
That isn't to say that we never see each other alone though. Santana sleeping in my bed has become a regular occurrence and although we cuddle all of the time, there seems to be some silent agreement that we don't talk about the fact that we hold each other more and more tightly each night or about anything else for that matter. And although I do want to talk about it at some point, I am glad that we have one place where we can just be, without any talking or awkwardness.
I love cuddling. Almost as much as I love Santana.
XXX
I'm breathing heavily as Jaques calls for a break after the fifth run through of the day. Luckily for me Jake has stopped coming to dance classes now so our duet piece has now become a solo meaning that I don't have to deal with him touching me and Mike has been able to calm down somewhat. Unfortunately, this fact hasn't exactly gained me favour with any of the other dancers. Either because they were friends with Jake and blame Mike and I for his disappearance or simply because of the fact that I have a solo which they feel like they too should have.
It doesn't really bother me all too much. Mike doesn't care who likes him, and that way of thinking seems to have rubbed off on me. Also, my friendship with Lana is as strong as ever. I can't help but to notice however, that she will look at me confused sometimes as though there is something that she just cannot work out about me.
On the plus side she has stopped asking about Mike and me, never giving us those knowing looks any more, for which I am grateful.
As she moves towards me now panting heavily, making tiny wheezy sounds, I have to laugh at the look on her face that screams 'kill me now'.
"You doing okay over there?" I ask as she collapses to the floor next to me, taking huge gulps from her water bottle.
"You should probably slow down; otherwise you'll just throw it all back up again." Mike said, strolling up to sit next to us looking completely relaxed and not as if he's been dancing for five hours straight.
Lana gave a grunt of acknowledgement in response before dropping her bottle to her side and letting it roll, empty, away from her.
"How are you not dying right now?" she asks us, looking completely put out. We both shrug in answer and she grunts again, trying to sit up.
"My mouth tastes of blood." She says, wrinkling her nose.
"That'll be the iron pumping around your body." Mike informs, guiding her into a sitting position.
"Or the result of my vital organs rupturing." She suggests with a shrug. I laugh at her weirdness, taking a slow sip of my own water, very aware of what Mike said earlier and not wanting to be sick.
"How many more times do you think we'll run through before we get to go home?" I ask, hoping Santana will be waiting for me when we do.
"Only a couple hopefully. He won't want to tire us out too much what with Friday being the big day and all." Lana has only been here a bit longer than me and Mike but that's still long enough to have done a couple of shows so I trusted her judgement on these things.
"Why, are you feeling okay?" Mike asked, feeling my head with the back of his hand as if this held all of the answers to my well being.
"I'm fine Mike." I told him, brushing his concerned hand away. Lana was wearing an amused smile but it was clear by her expression that she didn't see anything more in Mike's actions than brotherly concern. I wondered what had changed.
"Are you positive? You weren't feeling too great not that long ago." he persisted.
"I'm sure Mike. It was a minor flu. I'm over it now."
He sighed, still seeming unsure but knowing that there was nothing he could do about it.
"So anyway, you guys gonna come to the beach party this Saturday to celebrate? You can bring your other friends." She informed.
I looked to Mike for confirmation. I wanted to go but I wouldn't feel comfortable if he wasn't there. He seemed to register this and so smiled, answering the question for the both of us.
"Yeah, sure we'll come. I think the guys are free too so we'll all be there." I was happy to know that there was more than just me and Mike going but was unsure as to whether 'the guys' included Santana or not. I really hoped that it did.
"Alright people, from the top!" Jaques shouted, making us all scramble back into our starting positions.
As the routine began again and I was waiting for my turn, I wondered whether this beach party would be the perfect opportunity to talk to Santana. With so much going on it should be easy to distract the others and corner her. I just really hoped that she'd be willing to listen. And that she wanted me in the way that I wanted her.
I shook my head to clear my thoughts as I realised that my part was coming up. As I began to dance I decided then and there that I would talk to Santana no matter what the consequences were. I also decided that if Santana had been able to kiss me the way that she had done then there was almost no doubt in my mind that she did feel the same way about me.
I would simply have to wait for Saturday to come. Right now though, I would focus on dancing. I really wanted to impress Santana with my moves.
XXX
Santana
I was nervous.
It may seem silly for me, the bringer of death, to be nervous about attending a dance recital but I was. I seemed incapable of feeling anything but these nerves at the moment and felt the pressure of it consuming me.
I was unsure of why I was currently so anxious. It was merely the prickle of something indescribable at the base of my neck and the tightness in my stomach that made me so. These were the fates signs, there forewarnings to me to be prepared for something monumental. I had felt them only a handful of times, the most memorable being the night that Brittany was born, but this alone indicated the significance to me.
There was a stirring in the atmosphere, in the fundamental matter of the earth that told me that the outcome of tonight would be a determining factor in the Creators plans for the future.
Yet as monumental as this all was, I could not get passed the tingles rushing through my body at the knowledge that I would be watching Brittany dance. That thought alone being bigger than any world changing matters.
Puck and Sam were walking either side of me in their tailored suits, as I strode ahead in a deep red dress. The dress code on the invitation had stated formal and we had come dressed as such. It was this fact as well as the large dance hall in which the recital was to take place that hinted at the prestige of the event. It was true that I had chosen the best dance studio in New York for her tutelage as I had been aware that Brittany had been a talented dancer since a young age and she deserved to be taught as such.
Of course this was why the studios recital gathered a large crowd; these young dancers were as good as the professionals, if not better in some cases. Despite my own wealth, I could only look around in disdain at those around me. They were far too material for my liking and their gaudy lifestyle would only send them into my hands sooner. I was disgruntled by their snobby behaviour, disgusted at the thought that this was what the world had turned to. These people did not deserve to witness my Brittany dance. She was too good for them.
She was too good for me.
Before I was able to glare at them even more, I was being ushered into my seat by an excited Sam. He was almost vibrating with his enthusiasm to see his sister dance. This thought brought me back to the self loathing and confusion which I had been drowning in over the passed two weeks.
How had I let myself kiss her? It was wrong on so many levels. She was but a child, a baby. Had I not spent years training the wolves to protect her from danger, including making sure that no one would make that type of advance towards her? Had I not praised them when they had succeeded in doing so, making the white hot anger that coursed through me at the thought of someone touching her more bearable?
Now it would seem that I had only trained them in this way to make sure that no one but I could touch her in this way. But that was not true! I told myself that the twist in my stomach was that of repulsion at such an idea and not anything else. Never anything else.
I loved her, of course I did. But I loved in the way that a person loves their kin, nothing more or less. I have only ever wanted to protect her.
The way I had behaved towards her that day was unforgivable. It was so much worse than the way I had watched her sleep. The guilt I had felt then was almost incomparable to the guilt I feel now. It almost makes me laugh at the way in which I had described those hours watching over her peaceful form as the darkest of my existence. That thought could not seem more foolish now, in light of what terrible sin I have now committed.
It does not matter though. It does not matter now what I did or why I did it. I would make certain that it did not happen again. Brittany was young and innocent and I would fight with every fibre of my being to make sure it stayed that way. She was the little baby I had held in my arms, the small child with her overheated bundle of a body curled into me as I read to her.
I did not see her any other way. I could not. It was not right or even possible. She was a child and I would view her as such.
The lights dimmed, letting us know that the programme was about to start and I made myself comfortable, dismissing any previous thoughts from my mind. Brittany was a child, I knew that. I smiled in relief, feeling as though my problems had been solved.
There were a few different groups before Brittany and Mike's, and so we waited patiently for their class's time slot. I was excited to see how much my Britt-Britt's abilities had grown in the time she had been learning. I knew that she would be fantastic and was impatient for her turn so that I would be able to shower her with praise once the show was over.
Puck tapped my arm gently twice with his index finger and I knew this to mean that Brittany's group was going to be dancing now; I nodded my head in acknowledgement not taking my eyes off of the stage.
The dance progressed, as did my nerves and anticipation. Mike was dancing at the moment and I made a mental note to praise him as well once the show had finished.
Just as my impatience was growing too great to handle, Brittany entered the stage.
My breath caught.
She was beautiful. There was no other way to describe it, she moved with the born grace of a dove. She simply glowed with an inner light that was brighter than anything I had ever seen before.
I watched as she moved with precision, her soft lips pursed slightly in concentration. I could almost remember the exact weight and texture of them as they had moved against my own.
Wait, this is not right. I thought to myself, shaking my head and moving my sight to something else.
Her hands.
The way in which they flicked and twisted and spread with her flowing movements. I remembered how those long, delicate fingers weaved through my hair as she pulled me desperately closer.
No, she is a child.
I quickly moved my eyes, trying to settle on something that would not lead to those thoughts.
Her heaving breasts, almost feeling the way they pressed against me so deliciously as we slept.
Wrong.
Her stretching, straining stomach, it must feel heavenly under my lips and tongue, under my teeth.
No!
Her legs. Tensing with each step, leap, spin; stretching in impossible directions. Oh, to feel those legs around me as I held her to me, making her whole body pulse and shake with want. I would-
Stop!
I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Puck gazing at me in concern and something that looked too much like understanding. Did he know what I was thinking?
I shook my head, turning back to Brittany as she flowed around the stage, an unstoppable river. I could not deny it. No matter how much I wanted to. Brittany was not a girl any more. And I certainly did not see her as one.
Oh. I thought as she rolled her hips and I felt a pang of desire.
Oh Shit.