It's been two weeks since I've seen Santana. Sometimes it sucks being an adult, this is one of those times. I attended a film festival in Toronto for work and I was miserable the entire time. Would I admit to anyone other than myself that I miss Santana this much, no. Over those days Santana and I reverted to our old means of communicating, lots of texting and facetiming. Rachel has been pestering me about my newfound closeness with Santana and I mean I don't think it's that strange. We've been best friends since middle school, we've had sex, we've always had a love hate relationship, now we are just more focused on the love part. As soon as I get back to my apartment there is a knock on the door. I sit my bags on the bedroom floor and make my way through the living room. I look out the peephole and see a guy with flowers. I wasn't expecting them, so I just talk to him through the door, and he leaves them by the door. You can never be too careful; some people are simply weird. I go about unpacking and I shower. I open the door to get the flowers sure by now that the guy was long gone. A simple card that says, 'You deserve flowers.' I sit them on the table and go fill a vase with water. Tulips. I think back on who would know they are my favorites. They are a deep purple, incredibly beautiful. Everyone crosses my mind from my mom to Rach to an ex and even Santana for a second before I get another knock at the door. This time it's Santana. I look down my pajama pants, and baggy t-shirt and sigh realizing I have no time to change. "I know we made plans for tomorrow, but I made way too much pasta for dinner and I figured a homecooked meal would be better than takeout." She said as she walks past me. She stops at the rug I have by the kitchen to take off her shoes and sits the food by the flowers. "Nice Fabray, who's the lucky girl or guy, respectfully?" She asked before making her way to the sofa and taking a seat.
"Uh, I don't know the card just says, 'You deserve flowers.' I don't really talk to anyone other than you, Rach, my mom, and my boss so it really could be anybody." I said sitting beside her on the couch. See searches my eyes almost as if she's wondering if I'm lying. I lean into her "Maybe someone who was impressed by me at the festival." I shrug it off.
"Secret admire Q… it must be nice?!" She lightly giggles. I'm sure I blushed. "You do deserve flowers though so at the very least they got that right. I'm shocked no one has scooped you up yet." She said in a tone that I really can't read.
"Maybe I don't wanna be scooped Santana! I really enjoy being single. No one to answer to. No putting someone's feelings before my own. No more broken promises and heartaches." I said rolling my eyes slightly.
"You know that's not all relationships are though. Come on, tell me you don't miss the laughing, the someone to tell everything to, the cuddling, the sex?" She wiggles her eyebrows on the last word.
"S, everything you said except sex I can get from you. I'm starting to think that you are my soulmate and not some other guy or girl." I say without thinking not able to take it back.
"Well two things are for sure you can definitely get sex from me. And we are absolute soulmates. Just like Berry and Kurt except less gay even though we are both actually gay." She smirks at me with that smirk I love and hate so much. Was she joking? Was she being serious? Was it both? I'm conflicted but I also don't want to ruin our friendship or press my luck with Santana 2.0 because I would hate to be on her shit list. As much as I want to dive in those waters, I feel like I should tread lightly. Santana is the type who feels what she needs to feel, forgives you, and is or at least pretends to be fine with completely removing you from her life if things fall apart. That's how it's been with Brittany. My thoughts are interrupted. "I talked to Britt. I didn't want to, but her car was in my name and I wanted it not to be. She understood. She apologized for cheating on me with her yoga instructor, telling me it just happened. I believe her but it doesn't make it excusable. I told her I forgave her but that doesn't take away the hurt I feel. She said she understood." She paused for a brief second, "Do you know how many women and men hit on me the entire time we were married? I mean hell even Berry tried to kiss me one drunken night. I just would've never done that to her. I would have talked to her and told her I was attracted to someone else; I would've left if I wanted to cheat." I could see the pain in her eyes.
I skip over the fact that she indeed said that I could still have sex with her. This wasn't the time for that. "You are brave S. Everything you said is true. She could've communicated with you; she didn't have to betray you. That is one of the many things that I love about you, how loyal you are. I'm proud of you and the way you have grown and are handling yourself." I said and slid next to her. She wraps her arm in mine. "Anyone would be lucky to have you, Santana."
"Should I put your pasta up, or should I heat it up?" She asked before making her way to the kitchen.
"Oh, I can make it myself. You don't have to." I hop up and make my way to the kitchen after her.
"Answer the question and have a sit please. You have been working, traveling, away from home for weeks. Let me take care of you the same way you take care of me." She said in the most authoritative and sexy voice I've ever heard her use. I sit down at my dining room table.
"Yes, I am hungry. Thank you." I tell her trying not to give away how turned on that made me.
"Also, I read somewhere that tulips like cold water remember that when you change the water out. Purple means royalty, I thought that was fitting for a pillow princess like you." She jokingly gave away that it was her who sent the flowers.
"I am not a pillow princess you found that out the second time around. More like Queen Bitch." I say with the bitchiest express I can maintain. "You know you could've told me you sent them."
"And ruin watching you get nervous when I ask you about possible admirers?! I think the fuck not!" She said as she sits the plate with a glass of wine in front of me before going to grab her glass of wine.
"So, you bring me wine, a homecooked meal, and flowers. Are you trying to get in my pants Santana?" I asked as I watch her eat a bit of my food making her way to sit beside me. The pasta is so good, I forgot how well she can cook.
"Get in those tacky ass pajama pants Q? I'd rather take them off and hide them. That way I never have to take them off again." I watch the last word roll off her lips and my eyes dart back up to her gleaming eyes. I almost think my mind is playing tricks on me. Is it possible that she is feeling all these things I feel? I can't tell if these are butterflies or doubts in my stomach. I just know when I'm around her I feel safe.