Rachel was crying.

It was soft, and it wasn't out of control. It was a release of tension, and Santana stared at her because she was afraid that if she closed her eyes she would disappear. Even with Rachel on her lap and her tears soaking her collarbone, Santana couldn't bear it if it wasn't real. Thank god her cousin was so small it wasn't hard to just… Hold her.

Except for a couple of years in elementary school, Rachel had always been smaller than Santana. But not only was she smaller than Santana, she was younger, which meant that Santana had always taken it upon herself to protect her. Take care of her. Watch over her. Just be there for her. And she hadn't taken no for an answer.

Sure, she'd gotten into trouble sometimes, and hell, she had to deal with her fricken' annoying probation officer because of what she'd done to Mr. Pujo. But he deserved it, the fucker. Going off on Rachel just wasn't done. Besides, it wasn't like she'd permanently maimed him. That was reserved for the next dead man who dared mess with her Rachel.

…Her Rachel. How long had it been since she'd been able to say, think, believe that?

Tears swam, and Santana clamped her jaw shut to hold them back. No. She was being strong for Rachel. For all of the emotional whiplash she'd forced her into that night. It was the least she could do.

Hot and cold. Reluctant and aggressive. Pushing forward then running away… Santana swallowed, shifting enough so her body would once again search out and register the feeling of Rachel in her arms.

When Rachel barely acknowledged the movement, arm tightening around Santana's waist, Santana's heart skipped a beat. "Hey," she whispered, stroking Rachel's hair back from her face, "Are you fallin' asleep on me?"

"Mmm…" Rachel mumbled, her hand getting a better grip on Santana's shirt, "If I were, would that be okay?" Her voice was thick, but she didn't sound like tears anymore even if the sniffling she was doing was making her breathe through her mouth.

A wide, silly grin slowly grew on Santana's lips, and she chuckled affectionately. "Only if it's not sitting up," she warned, "Cuz' that's so not comfortable."

Breathing in deeply, holding it, then letting it out slowly, Rachel let out a low noise and lifted her head. "I'm sorry," she whispered, smiling hesitantly, "I didn't mean to fall apart on you."

Rache. She didn't have to worry about that. The fact that Santana got to even be with Rachel blew her mind. She just… Couldn't believe it. "It's alright," she smiled, and, without even thinking about it, dipped her head.

Rachel's lips didn't hesitate to meet her own.

Kissing Rachel, more than anyone else, was more personal, special, closer. Even if every time Santana touched Rachel, she could feel her, touching her and kissing her felt like Rachel had crawled inside and curled up around her heart. She could feel her with every pulse of her heart, each breath.

She'd missed that feeling. A broken heart without its keeper had shut her down.

It had fuckin' hurt.

She'd missed the feeling of Rachel's breath against her, her skin and tongue and nose and lips all sliding along hers. Her unique taste and smell and sounds, her body reaching out for hers. Everything that Rachel allowed her to have.

They'd spent hours kissing each other, trying out different styles or just basking in the sensation of doing something both desperately wanted to do.

They'd spent months kissing each other. Hiding in each other's rooms, slipping away from family visits, anytime and anywhere they could. Santana had mapped out Rachel's mouth, and once she'd finished, she did it again, and again and again and again.

They'd spent all the time they had exploring the passion that was new and old and changed, leaving them breathless and disheveled, bodies locked together as tightly as they could be.

But with their exploration came reality knocking on the door. They'd almost gotten caught many times during those first months, but they'd been pretty damn fuckin' lucky. Because they had been such good friends to begin with, attached at the hip and freakishly close according to her older brother, they were able to get away with more than they should have.

That didn't mean that they hadn't been terrified most of the time, though. Because they had been. Totally and overwhelmingly terrified that it had just made them cling to each other even more.

And the horrible reality? Those had been the good days.

Good days.

But… Was now another good day?

It…

It really could be.

No matter all the shit she was going through. They were going through.

Because, for now, none of that mattered. Or seemed to matter. Not their family rift, not her social status, not glee. Not anything.

Just Rachel. Her and Rachel.

Together.

"'Tana?" Rachel whispered.

"Mmhm?" Santana whispered back. God, she'd never grow tired of hearing that tone in Rachel's voice…

Rachel's lips pressed into her own again. "Did you lock the door?"

Had she? …Yes. She had. Santana kissed her back. "Mmhm."

Rachel sighed. "Good," she murmured, warm breath flowing over Santana's mouth, fingers sliding up to curl around her neck and pull her in deeper, "Good."