Brittany was searching her locker for something when Santana got there, panting, her breath coming raggedly. She didn't understand why the short run had tired her when she was on the cheerleading squad, and pegged it down to nerves. Being nervous was new.

"Britt, I made a mistake – "

"Where's my textbook?" Brittany interrupted, a stream of glitter flying out of a book that she knocked onto the floor, covering her knees.

"Let me look," Santana pleaded, seeing that the girl was trying desperately to get away from her and wanting to prolong the time they had together.

"No. Doesn't matter." Brittany slammed the locker shut and walked away, leaving Santana standing sadly in the corridor. She spun around, intending to take a different route and cut Brittany off at the parking lot, but ran into Kurt.

"Santana?" He looked worried. Santana felt the hot tears spurting down her face and wondered how long she'd been crying. "C'mon," He guided her into an empty classroom and shut the door.

"Why can't it be easy?" Santana exploded, sitting on a table and grunting in annoyance. "I had her! It was fine! I can't have blown it already. Maybe…" She wiped her face furiously and started rooting around in her bag for a compact mirror.

"What, Santana?" Kurt pushed, keeping a safe distance from the fiery Latina.

"Maybe it's not worth it." She vocalised the thoughts that had been niggling at her for days. Kurt blinked, surprised, but carried on the conversation without missing a beat.

"Maybe it isn't." Kurt repeated. "But you'll have to figure it out yourself, and quickly. Because she won't wait around for you to plumb her forever." And on that note, Kurt hastily left the classroom, Doc Martens clicking all the way down the hall, pausing only to say, "but it was worth it for me. To be with Blaine, here of all places... it's the best thing that could have happened."

Santana sighed and peered out the window. She saw Brittany walking across the quad and realised she'd never catch up to her now. Probably for the best. This way, she could make her face less puffy and think of her next move. She found herself back in the choir room, sitting at the piano. She pressed a key, hesitant, then began to play, some of the notes a little off as she wasn't the greatest pianist. She sung, her voice wavering as she was still sniffing up the tears from earlier.

Your subtleties
They strangle me
I can't explain myself at all.
And all the wants
And all the needs
All I don't want to need at all.

The walls start breathing
My mind's unweaving
Maybe it's best you leave me alone.
A weight is lifted
On this evening
I give the final blow.

Unbeknownst to Santana, Brittany had returned to the choir room to look for her lost textbook (she had been pressing a flower between the pages, and wanted to see if it was complete). The blonde watched from behind the door, her heart breaking a little with each word, though listening to Santana's singing was normally the most soothing, natural thing in the world. She supposed that things had changed, and winced. Brittany was not a fan of change. She still owned the same Hello Kitty underwear that she'd bought aged 11.

When darkness turns to light,
It ends tonight
It ends tonight.

A falling star
Least I fall alone.
I can't explain what you can't explain.
You're finding things that you didn't know
I look at you with such disdain

The walls start breathing
My mind's unweaving
Maybe it's best you leave me alone.
A weight is lifted
On this evening
I give the final blow.

When darkness turns to light
It ends tonight,
It ends tonight.
Just a little insight won't make this right
It's too late to fight
It ends tonight,
It ends tonight.

Now I'm on my own side
It's better than being on your side
It's my fault when you're blind
It's better that I see it through your eyes

All these thoughts locked inside
Now you're the first to know

It was the perfect breakup song. The thing was, Santana didn't want to break up with Brittany. Did she?

She heard the handle turning behind her and turned around on the stool, her eyes narrowing in preparation to chide the eavesdropper with a vicious insult. Her face softened when she saw Brittany's hurt blue eyes staring back at her, a habit that was hard to break.

"Brittany." Using her full name was rare for Santana. Even in their serious talks, she called her Britt. It was one of their little things. Was.

"San." It looked like Brittany had taken no notice of the way she'd been addressed.

"I… I love you, you know that, right?" Santana stammered the words. She'd told her a thousand times before, but this felt like the last time she'd ever say them.

"I know." her best friend replied.

Santana looked at her, expectant. Waiting for the four words that kept her going, through slushies and show choir and high school. 'I love you too.'That's all she wanted, she realised that now. The pause lengthened. Brittany blinked back at her.

"Aren't you going to say it back?" Santana pressured, her eyes narrowing once more. She could suddenly feel the tightness of her ponytail, the curls tickling her neck, the scratchiness of polyester uniform on tan skin, the discomfort of being her own skin when she wasn't being reassured that someone loved her.

"You should know it by now," Brittany tried, stepping closer, holding Santana's forearms and seeking eye contact desperately.

"Say it!" Santana's voice strangled out. "Tell me that you love me." She begged, knowing that whether Brittany did or didn't tell her, that the moment was ruined now. The sincerity would be gone, the simplicity of their relationship lost. She wanted to stop Brittany, cover her mouth to stop her doing exactly what she wanted.

"I love you, San."

Santana closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

"I need some... some more time."

Brittany took off her My Little Pony watch and handed it to Santana, a curious look appearing on her face as she did so.

"Here." She offered a sweet smile, not knowing that Santana's world was crashing down around them.

"Time… off. From us." Santana handed the watch back. "I need… time." She went onto her tiptoes and kissed Brittany's forehead, which was wrinkling in confusion.

"I don't understand,"

"Please, try." Santana left with these words and Brittany collapsed onto the stool, confused and hurt by the way that things were repeating.