Thanks again for all the reviews, PMs, favorites, etc. Hope I made up for any medical conditions I may have brought on yesterday with that first chapter. No more dreams, I promise.
Santana's POV:
After talking and trying to conceal the fact that I had been crying from Kurt, I walked down the street to the nearest open place that sold alcohol. I wasn't picky. I just wanted to grab a bottle of whatever would get me drunk the fastest. We only had beer in the apartment and only 2 bottles at that. Those would not serve my purpose of obliterating my senses. Vodka usually did the trick. I showed my fake ID and paid the guy behind the counter and walked back to the apartment. I caught a glimpse of a couple holding hands and laughing on the other side of the street and the tears almost fell again, but then I soaked them up in anger and walked the rest of the way home.
When I got to my front door, Hummel was there.
"What do you know, Hummel?" I unlocked the door and walked in carrying my brown paper bag that I knew made me look like a raging alcoholic, but better that than actually feeling what I'm feeling right now.
He walked right in, which I did not appreciate considering I was getting ready to pour my first of many anticipated drinks for the night.
"She's with Rachel. She's staying at a hotel tonight."
"Oh." I don't know what I was expecting. My love fever dream was just that. The reality was that Q needed to get away from me and ran to a hotel with a hobbit just to avoid telling me that I'm a crazy person for falling for her when there was no chance of her falling back.
I thought back on that dream for a moment. I could still feel her wrapped around me. It all felt so real, which just made the pain worse when I realized it wasn't.
"What can I do, Santana? I feel like this is partly my fault. I'm the one that told you to tell her." He stood with his hands turned up as if he could hold the weight of my broken heart in them. I knew he felt bad, but I was in no mood to carry his feelings too and I needed to express something; anger was usually right there on the fiery surface so I went with that.
"It is your fault. It's your fault and it's Abby's fault and Brittany's fault and its fucking love's fault and now I've lost another best friend and I'm going to be alone forever. So, thanks for that, Oscar fucking Wilde." I walked to the kitchen to pop the top off the vodka bottle. I looked around for a moment and I saw those damn bears I insisted on buying at Coney Island. I remembered how I wanted to actually win her something, but it was cheaper just to buy those things instead. Plus, winning at those games takes time. I am not the most patient person in the world and I really just wanted to get back to the apartment to engage in other activities.
"Did you just call me Oscar Wilde?" Kurt brought me back to reality.
"I'm an emotional train wreck right now and you know how much I despise emotions and you're pissed about me calling you a fucking name like that's the first time I've ever done that?" I took a long drink straight from the bottle. I had considered pouring it into a shot glass, but the nearest one on the counter was the one Quinn bought me to replace the one she broke during a drinking game we played while watching America's Next Top Model. Anytime someone said "fierce" or "smizing" we would drink and Quinn slammed her glass down rather hard and broke it. She felt so bad, she bought me a new one the next day at some tourist shop and it had a picture of the Empire State Building on it. I stared at the glass for a second before looking around. God, practically everything in this damn place is hers including me.
"It's just weird that you know who Oscar Wilde is." He folded his arms into his chest and leaned against the counter.
"Screw it, let's just get all my secrets out. I'm about to get hammered so I probably won't remember this conversation anyway. I wanted Quinn to stay here so bad that I stole her damn laptop one night and found what I needed so that I could re-apply for her to Columbia. Her essay was still there so I just changed the date and sent it all in. I haven't heard back yet, but I'm sure she got in because she's pretty much the smartest person in the world. That used to drive me nuts, but I like it now. Damn it, I like that she's so fucking smart because she makes me smarter by association. I did that. I applied for her and still had no fucking clue apparently that I did it because the thought of her being three hours away everyday made me consider moving to New Haven just to be… near her. I love New York. I love it here and I want to live here for a long time, but if she told me tomorrow she was moving to, well anywhere, I'd go with her if she wanted me too. I'd seriously pack up my shit and hop on a plane." I paused to take a breath. "I also applied to NYU for the spring because I can't keep just pouring drinks and cleaning up after the drunk people I serve forever. I want more and having her here has made me see that." I paused to take another breath so I could admit yet another embarrassing secret. "Oh and whenever Q reads a book, I read the book. I just wait until she's out or I buy it from Amazon and read it on my computer when she's asleep. It's been fucking hard too because she reads every book. Whenever she gets back from the bookstore or the library, I suddenly get homework and I'm not even the one in school right now. It's fucking ridiculous and that's one good thing about this not happening. I no longer have to read a million books a week to feel like I actually deserve to be in the same damn room with her."
"You applied to Columbia for me?" I looked toward the door and she was standing there with Rachel in tow. Something else Abby and Q have in common; those damn ninja skills. I guess she arrived just early enough to hear my whole damn secret revealing speech. Figures.
"Um… Kurt, do you want too…" Rachel started.
"Yeah, we've got that thing to do with that… Ah hell, as much as I'd love to see what happens next, we're just going to leave you two alone."
They quickly escaped the awkward and slid the door closed behind them. Quinn was standing completely still near the front door. My grip was on the neck of the bottle and if I squeezed any harder from fear and nervousness, I'd be pulling shards of glass out of my hand.
"Do you really read my books?" She asked in her sweet, church girl voice I used to loathe because I knew she only used it when she wanted something, but I had grown to love it now that she wasn't using it to manipulate people.
I gulped.
"It started with that Lost City one. It sounded lame, but when you got here for the summer, I saw it on the shelf so I picked it up one morning while you were asleep. I actually kind of liked it. The ending sucked. I don't like it when I don't know what happens after I've read like 200 pages," What is it about this girl that suddenly had me rambling about a stupid book?
She took a step toward me. Oh, that's what it is. There's some kind of Quinn magnet effect that happens when she's within 5 feet of me that forces me to be honest and stupid and share things I don't like or want to share.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice was even softer. It sounded like it always did each morning when she used to whisper things in my ear in an attempt to get me to wake up and make her coffee.
"I don't know. It was lame. I'm just a bartending college drop out. I wanted to be able to talk to you about things you care about sometimes, but every time I almost said something, I went back to the part where it was lame that I was basically book stalking you." God, stop talking. You're Santana fucking Lopez. Get your shit together.
"No, I mean about Columbia. Why didn't you tell me about Columbia?" Her voice told me she wasn't angry. I thought she would get upset with me for that one.
"Because I wanted to wait until you got in first. Then I'd take you out to celebrate you moving to the city and ask you to just officially move into the apartment because I've gotten used to having you here. I figured we'd just get another bed if us in the same one made you uncomfortable or if you started dating someone or if Abby started staying over and now that just all sounds ridiculous because really I wanted you to live here with me and sleep in that bed with me and cook dinner with me and watch stupid reality TV with me and trade that damn sweatshirt back and forth with me." She smiled and apparently I felt like I needed to make things worse for some reason. "Have I ever told you how amazing your smile is, Q? And those eyes, they drive me crazy sometimes because it's like you see right through me and no one sees through me."
She took a step toward me and then another.
"I don't see through you, Santana. I just see all of you."
Her hand was over mine on the bottle and my heart thundered in my chest. Her other hand covered it as if she could hear the storm and was attempting to keep it quelled inside my body.
"Q?"
My hand wouldn't let go of the bottle until she took her finger and slid it up my wrist. The dream I had earlier was nothing compared to this feeling and if this is a dream too, then I don't ever want to wake up.
"Let it go, Santana. You don't need it."
I let go of the bottle and she held onto my hand while her other one went around my neck and her forehead pressed against mine. I could feel her breath against my lips and I could no longer contain what was going on inside my body. I had to say it again.
"God, I love you. I'm so sorry I ran out earlier. You just didn't say anything and I couldn't stand there if you were going to tell me that you didn't feel the same way. I should've stayed because I didn't know how you feel and-" I tried to explain, but I really just rambled.
"If you shut up for a second, I can tell you," She whispered somehow over the top of that rambling. I stared into her eyes. "When I said 'oh my God' earlier at the library, it was because you took me by complete surprise and when I went to the hotel and talked with Rachel, it was because I needed to work things through. Now, I know something definitively that I was unsure I could handle before."
"What?" I questioned hopefully while staring into those eyes and seeing myself reflected back in them. I wasn't afraid anymore.
"I love you, dumb ass."