*0*0*
Goodnight From Me, Good Morning To You
*0*0*
You were your own worst enemy; that was the only conclusion you could come to.
When things start going right for you, you'd freak the fuck out and ruin them. That's what you do, so God only knows why you were so surprised when your anxiety kicked you down again.
You needed to stop overanalyzing everything. You needed to just give into your emotions, to allow yourself to feel things. Yes, it was easier to block it out, because there was a tidal wave inside you, ready to devastate everything in its path. But, your life was on the up, and you had to stop drowning yourself.
A good way to improve your day, to stop the heavy emotions taking over, was to call your best friend and listen to her upbeat and happy voice. Rachel could always pick you up after a fall. Plus, Rachel always gave good advice, and right about now, you needed that.
Things with Santana were going in the right direction, definitely in the right direction, but that meant opening up to one another, trusting one another, and how, how could you do that?
There were so many different aspects to her life, from teen pregnancy to living in her car, to then the car accident, and everything in between, so how, how could she even start to open up?
Santana might run for the hills, and that, you weren't ready to face. You couldn't lose your friends, you just, that wasn't, you needed-
"Hey, Quinn, you okay? I wasn't expecting to speak to you until tomorrow night. Not that I'm complaining, of course, because it's always good to hear from you, I'm just wondering if everything is okay. Is it, is everything okay?" You smiled down the phone, shaking your head at Rachel's concern.
"Don't worry, Rach, I'm in one piece." Physically, you were in one piece. "I just...I wanted your advice...on Santana?" You let the words hang, and you heard Rachel make a small 'oh' sound on the other end.
"Okay, what advice are you looking for?"
"We're...friends." Friends that make out, but still. "And I'm debating whether to tell her more about me."
"Quinn, I know Santana wasn't exactly the nicest person to you to begin with, which again, I had no clue about. However, she really cares about you, and I think that you should share whatever you feel comfortable with. Santana will listen, and she won't judge."
"Everyone judges."
"True, but honestly, I think sharing more about your past with Santana could be good." Rachel paused for a second, but you knew there was more to her words, and waited. "When you went to Yale, I was worried. It was stupid because you're amazing, but I was scared you were going to go and end up in that dark place again, alone and upset and cut off and I was worried. But, you have amazing friends, Sam, Mike, Tina and then, you have Santana. They'll all be there for you, Quinn. I don't think you need to worry about keeping yourself so locked up and closed off with them. If they knew, they could help you and support you."
God. Rachel's words had knocked the air out of your lungs, and you were gasping, your throat tightening, and fuck. She had worried about you becoming exactly what you had; a loner, a pariah, a loser. If your need to keep up appearances had failed, she would have realised her worries had come true.
"I-I don't want them to see me as a victim to pity," you managed out, wiping a stray tear off your cheek, annoyed that your body was betraying you right now.
"They won't pity you, Quinn; they'll see you for who you are, someone so strong, who got back up after so many falls." You wanted to believe Rachel, but sometimes you thought you saw pity in her eyes, and that made it harder. "Even if you don't talk to them all, it would be good to talk with Santana. Maybe take baby steps- and oh, gosh, that was the worst, I shouldn't have said that- what I mean is only share a little, if you don't want to mention Beth, or your parents, don't. Just, take it slow. Learn to walk before you start running. And oh gosh, I did it again, I'm so sorry!" Rachel cried out, and you could picture her freaking out on the other end.
You couldn't help but laugh, because please, your life was a fucking disaster.
"Relax, Rach, I get what you're saying."
"You do? I haven't offended you terribly by these poor sayings?"
"No, you haven't. You've helped. I've been debating things, debating telling Santana more, and...and yeah, I think you're right. It would be good." It was necessary, especially if the two of you kept making out, but still, it had the potential to be good for you. "Now, tell me what you've been getting up to," you said, tone light, and looking for that upbeat distraction.
With Rachel, that always worked, she bounced off into her classes and some of the auditions she had and what the drama was in her friend group, and you must have smiled the whole conversation.
It wasn't until you hung up that you realised, and began to accept, you were going to have to start opening up more, so you could get more people like Rachel in your life.
*0*0*
It was easy to believe you would in fact take the plunge and start opening up to Santana, you just had to wait for the right time. You saw her around a lot on campus, more so now than ever, and you still saw her regularly at the radio station, but it wasn't really the time or place to bring up teen pregnancy and car crashes.
Finding yourself back in the basement rooms, using the space to go over some notes, while keeping you out of your dorm room, you were surrounded by people who were slowly becoming friends, or were in fact friends. Eventually, they'd find out, too. That thought had you biting your lip, and trying to push all anxiety that came with it.
What were you doing? Baby steps first. Talk to Santana, then worry about the rest.
And as luck would have it, Santana was going to give you just the opening you needed.
You had seen her arrive earlier, but she looked on a mission to talk to someone, so kept your greetings to a simple nod. She would come over sooner or later, that you knew, and when she did, you found yourself giving her a soft smile.
"Hey," Santana greeted, taking a seat next to you. "You okay?" she frowned, glancing you over, not finding what she expected in your smile.
"Yeah, I'm good." It was such an easy lie, and you wondered when it became second nature for you. The anxiety was still running through your system, made worse because she was right there and you had to come clean about several things.
"Well, in that case, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to get out of here." You bit your lip again, and raised your eyebrow, unsure where she was going with this. "My afternoon class was cancelled, and I know you don't have any classes this afternoon, so I thought we could maybe go back to mine and hang out."
Hang out.
Was that a euphemism for sex? Christ, you had no idea. For all you knew, it could be.
Swallowing, you thought over your options, before looking at Santana. She looked hopeful, curious, lacking the sexual smirk or the lustful gaze, and maybe she actually meant hang out.
Plus, going would give you the opportunity to see her place, which you had been very intrigued about.
And back up, she knew your class schedule? When had she learnt that?
Nevermind.
"I'd like that."
"Yeah?" The surprise looked cute on her, and you laughed, nodding.
"I'll just gather my things."
"Great," she murmured, as if this was entirely unexpected, and then went to grab her own.
The two of you met by the door, walking side by side out of the building, and then heading over to the carpark. Santana rooted around in her bag for some keys, before unlocking a nearby car, and letting the two of you get in.
You watched as she maneuvered out of the carpark and away from campus. The radio was on, and you recalled how she didn't sing, but humming, apparently, was allowed. She'd hum to the beat every now and then, earning a smile, and you did feel rather privileged to get to witness her like this.
Santana parked behind an apartment block, and led you up three flights of stairs to her place. She had to shimmy the door a little to get it open, and then waved her hand for you to go in first. Her apartment was pretty open-plan, with you walking into a small hallway that opened right up into the living room, kitchen off the back of that, and doors off another hallway behind them.
"Make yourself at home," Santana said, dropping her bag by the couch, and then nipping into the kitchen. "Can I get you a drink?"
Santana then spent the next few minutes rummaging through what she had, and just grabbing you a juice anyway, before placing them on the coffee table, and turning on her TV, getting up netflix.
She handed you the playstation handset to decide, and you smiled, going through her recently watched and recommended. It took a while, but you both settled on something neither of you had seen, and okay, this felt very normal.
Your earlier panic of was this going to be about sex seemed to be seriously misplaced. Santana hadn't even kissed you. She was giving you space, a comfortable distance between the two of you on the couch, and maybe this was the exact environment you needed to tell Santana more about the boundaries you needed.
This was probably one of the perfect times to tell her; the two of you were alone, there was no chance of interruption, and if your mask fell and the dam broke, you could cry without being seen by loads of other people.
But your staring at her had caught her attention, and she shot you a shy look, then a sly smile as she glanced down at your lips, and okay, maybe you could discuss boundaries later. After all, it wasn't like you were going to have sex today.
Plus, with the way she was looking at you, there were more productive, more fun, things to be doing instead.
And then it became easy to talk yourself out of it; you were farther from campus than you would have liked, so if you needed to leave it was going to be a long walk back, and that would aggravate all your problems. So no, you couldn't. Not yet.
"You okay? You've got that look again," Santana asked, shuffling a little closer, and you tried to wipe your expression clean.
"Yeah, I was just thinking about something." She rose her eyebrows in question, but you shook your head. You weren't going to. You had made your mind up. "Forget about it, I now have something better in mind."
The way your eyes moved to her lips again was not missed, and you watched her newly formed smirk change into a smile as she reached out for your hand.
It was so easy to reach out, too, to cup her cheek in your hand and fall further into her, forehead against hers, breathing in the last of your breaths before closing the distance.
Kissing her was definitely something you were never going to tire of. The softness of her lips was uncomparable, and each kiss had you sinking more and more into her. It was exactly what you needed to relieve all anxiety, relaxing all the tense muscles in your back, and you let out a content sigh against her lips.
It was all going so damn well, and then you felt her hand move.
You froze. Santana had slipped her hands down your waist, but upon feeling you tense, she pulled back, frowning in concern. You quickly masked the panic, and shrugged, like it was nothing, and she smiled, trying to ease whatever worries you were focusing on.
"A little making out never hurt no one," she said, that cheeky smirk making you roll your eyes.
"I'm pretty certain that's not true, but I get what you're trying to say." You did, and she was sweet for trying.
"Great-" Santana began, moving back in again, her hands sliding onto your waist again, higher, closer to your chest, and wait.
"Mmm," you began, moving back once more, "but we're just making out," you said, hoping she could feel the forcefulness behind that comment. And hey, this was progress, you were giving boundaries! Granted, you hadn't explained why you needed them, but they were still there.
"I know, but I want to put my hands to good use," Santana murmured, not getting what was wrong with that.
"I'm not taking my top off," you said, your eyes pleading that she would understand.
She had to understand. You needed her to. You couldn't have her being like Finn or Puck or the many others who wanted what they wanted and didn't mind you were uncomfortable with it.
"Well-" And okay, no, this was going so well, please.
Was Santana one of those people that needed to have sex to be happy? Was she one of those people that didn't think a romantic relationship was proper until sex had been had? Because you couldn't deal with that. You couldn't.
"I know you might not want to hear this, that I need to take things slow, and I'm sorry, except, I'm not. I'm not sorry. If you have an issue with that, then we should just stop right now-" you went on to say, moving back further, putting some distance between you, only to be cut off again mid sentence.
"Quinn," Santana said, calmly, a small smile on her lips, and God, what was she going to say?
"What?" You could feel the nerves in the pit of your stomach, because if you had to leave, was she going to make you walk home?
"I was going to say 'well, can I at least take my top off?'"
"Oh." That was...unexpected.
"Yeah. Oh," Santana teased, smirking.
"Sorry-" Embarrassment covered your cheeks, and you shook your head, wishing for the ground to swallow you whole.
"Don't be, but can I?" she asked again, and Santana's hands were at the base of her top, ready to pull it over her head, if given the get go.
"Hell yeah," you murmured, like she actually had to ask. That earned you a beautiful laugh and smile, and God, you'd do anything to keep seeing that.
Then, Santana's top hit the coffee table behind her, and she was there in her jeans and black bra and you were in heaven.
This was heaven.
*0*0*
Santana dropped you back off at your dorm when she headed in for her shift that night, and you were grinning ear to ear.
She hadn't pushed. She hadn't tried to make you go further than what you could handle. Instead, she sat astride you, arms round your neck, kissing you until your lips were bruised, and ever so gently grinding down on your lap. It had you buzzing, aflame with want, and God, she was so stunning, her hair messed, her chest heaving, her skin soft to the touch, and you were in so, so deep.
It was lust, but the tenderness in her kisses, the way she ran her hands through your hair, kissing up your neck, and entwining her fingers with yours spoke of an intimacy of another type.
So of course, when you got back to your dorm room, quietly so you didn't wake your roommate up, you changed into pyjamas, and sunk into bed, phone and headphones in hand, ready to listen to Rosario Cruz's set.
There was still a little time, and the last song from the previous set played out, you lay, still abuzz, and wondered if you would actually get sleep that night, or if you'd simply end up listening to her set all the way through.
And then her voice came through your headphones, and your grin widened in the dark.
"Evening folks, I'm Rosario Cruz, your guide for the night as we tour some of the greatest songs of the eighties. Tonight, I'm feeling like we should have a theme, so hit us up on Facebook, tweet me, whatever, and see if you can work out what it is. Now, first stop on the tour, British duo Erasure, and their classic, 'A Little Respect'."
The bouncy intro started, and then the vocals hit, and you knew from the get go, tonight's set wasn't to be missed.
I try to discover
A little something to make me sweeter
Oh baby refrain from breaking my heart
I'm so in love with you
I'll be forever blue
That you give me no reason
Why you're making me work so hard
That you give me no
That you give me no
That you give me no
That you give me no
Soul, I hear you calling
Oh baby please give a little respect to me
You couldn't help but wonder...the one lyric that stood out, above all else, and no. It couldn't. Santana wouldn't. You'd need to keep listening to the rest of the set before drawing any conclusions.
And that's what you did. To hell with sleep, your non-girlfriend was playing love song after love song, all declaring their love and intent, and you couldn't help but feel elation through every cell of your body as the set continued.
"Last stop on our tour, but before we get there, let's have a little talk about your comments. A lot of you are giving stick that I'm not subtle, and hey, I never set out to be subtle; I'm trying to tell a girl how I feel, why should that be subtle?" she argued, and you could feel your heart racing at the thought, as well as imagining her bickering into the mic. "There's quite a few speculations on just who the girl is, Lucy Q being the favourite, but I'm afraid that's for me to know and you to keep guessing." That time, you could actually hear her smirk through the headphones, and you fought back a laugh. "Anyway, show time, final song, the one to end the night and this fabulous tour, if I do say so myself, which I do, of the eighties. Of course, we have to go to a classic, classic band, classic song, just all round classic; it's Fleetwood Mac, with Everywhere. And with that, it's goodnight from me, and good morning to you."
Can you hear me calling
Out your name
You know that I'm falling
And I don't know what to say
I'll speak a little louder
I'll even shout
You know that I'm proud
And I can't get the words out
Oh I,
I want to be with you everywhere
Oh I,
I want to be with you everywhere
(Wanna be with you everywhere)
Something's happening
Happening to me
My friends say I'm acting peculiarly
C'mon baby
We better make a start
You better make it soon
Before you break my heart
Oh I,
I want to be with you everywhere
Oh I,
I want to be with you everywhere
(Wanna be with you everywhere)
Can you hear me calling
Out your name
You know that I'm falling
And I don't know what to say
Come along baby
We better make a start
You better make it soon
Before you break my heart
Oh I,
I want to be with you everywhere
Oh I,
I want to be with you everywhere
Oh I,
I want to be with you everywhere
Oh I,
I want to be with you everywhere
(Wanna be with you everywhere)
So, maybe it was time to actually admit, that you maybe, just maybe, were falling for Santana faster than you thought possible. And maybe, just maybe, it was time to take the plunge and tell her about everything.
If her set was any indication of how she felt, you had absolutely nothing to worry about.
Nothing at all.
*0*0*