Ring the Alarm
AN: First, a lil safety PSA: I know it can be annoying if it happens too often but please evacuate during every fire alarm. There's too many tragic reports of kids being desensitized from too many false ones that they don't leave during a real emergency. Stay safe out there!
So, there's this girl.
She lives in the dorm room directly across Santana's on the twelfth floor of their dormitory. Thanks to little passing moments they share together to and from class, Santana's come to know a few of her charming quirks. She's bubbly and bright, like her hair or the cute decorations she made to surround her name on her door. Brittany. Even her name sounds synonymous with skittles. Sweet and light.
She's come to the conclusion that Brittany is probably the most genuine person she's ever had the pleasure of meeting.
Santana once saw Brittany accidentally erase something with her shoulder on a nearby dry erase board and as soon as she realized it, she looked panicked. Without a second thought the girl spent ten whole minutes drawing something else there to make up for it. For as long as it went unerased, every time Santana walked by Brittany's drawing, she couldn't help but smile. Honestly it was the worst drawing Santana has ever seen of a dinosaur. The proportions were all over the place, not to mention the smile Brittany attempted to draw on a t-rex was the stuff of nightmares.
So Brittany's clearly not an art major, that much Santana knows. Which only serves to mean that Santana won't be running into her in the hallway of the Art building or in any of her classes. But from what she can gather from subtle peeks here and there, she thinks Brittany's in some sort of engineering program. Something that requires a genius level of math.
All in all, it's just nice to come back 'home' after a long day of classes and see Brittany's smile. Even if it's only in passing.
Another plus to living in a dormitory is that it definitely has its perks. She can sleep in till the very last minute and just haul ass to her first class of the day. She can stay up studying and her mom won't berate her for missing too much beauty sleep. She's basically on her own, and for Santana, that was all she needed to hear before deciding it was worth the extra money.
The downside though, is something no one warned her about.
Fire alarms.
No, not fire alarms as in there's an actual fire so get the hell up and evacuate. The fire alarms she's talking about are the ones little shitholes activate for no good reason in the middle of the night, at least once every other week. Causing the entire building to wake up at three in the morning and shuffle down god knows how many flights of stairs, just to stand outside in the cold until the fire department comes to declare the building safe.
Oh, but wait, what about finals week? One would think that surely they would respect the sanctity of sleep during the most stressful week of a young student's life, right? Fuck no. Those assholes usually set off a false alarm almost every single night during finals week.
Why is that a thing? Who made that into a thing? It's not a prank and it's not fucking funny.
And sure, of course building management tried to stop it. Lord knows they tried with cameras, security checks, tamper dye, you name it, but all of that still didn't stop whatever gremlin asshat kid that's doing it. The fucker just doesn't know when to quit. If Santana had her way, she would have them hunted down and tortured.
But then again in a really twisted, fucked up kind of way, she actually almost doesn't mind it that much. Because here's the thing, false alarms are the only time Santana and Brittany actually get to interact, if you could even call it that.
It all started late one night when Santana woke up to the familiar sounds of wailing sirens in the hallway. She turned over into her pillow and groaned, cursing the universe. After a few seconds, she reluctantly sat up and slipped on her shoes. She didn't even bother with throwing on a hoodie this time because the last time she wore one, she almost fell asleep outside against a very comfortable bush while waiting for the all clear. And the thought of waking up to a stoner poking her in the arm to see if she's alive is just… unacceptable.
The moment she opened her door she caught sight of Brittany sitting at her desk, her head buried in a textbook. First, all Santana could think was how unsafe and careless it was to leave her dorm door wide open with her back facing away. Second, how in the world can Brittany concentrate with all the sirens and flashing lights going on in the hallway right behind her?
Santana smiled softly, noticing the headphones sitting pretty atop Brittany's head. It's another thing she's come to learn over time. Brittany almost always has headphones on. She often wonders what kind of music she listens to. What mix of songs did she curate for her everyday playlist? Does she have a different playlist for her moods? She wants to listen to them all.
After she decided it was time to alert the blonde to their false impending danger, Santana walked up to the door and leaned in just enough to find the light switch. She flipped it up and down a few times, making the lamp beside Brittany flicker until her head snapped up in confusion. When she turned around to find Santana standing there, she softened.
"Sorry," Santana apologized, gesturing to the flashing hallway vaguely, "This again. Didn't want you to get left behind."
Brittany just nodded in understanding, thanking her as she closed her book and picked it up, intent on taking it with her. Clearly not willing to let a little old fire alarm stop her from her studies. Together they walked down the twelve floors of stairs in silence with only the sounds of grunts and grumbles from their other building mates. That night was the most they talked. And by talked, she means exchanged names and that's it.
But ever since then, and she doesn't know why, Santana's made it a thing. Their thing. Almost as if it's just something they do now. Every fire alarm, Santana will stop outside of their doors, and knock softly at Brittany's door. Sometimes, Brittany will open the door just as Santana is about to knock and they'll share a chuckle. A smile. Maybe even a little blush.
It goes on like that for a while. There have been so many times that Santana desperately wanted to strike up a conversation with Brittany during a normal time of day, but when they pass each other in the hall she's always wearing her headphones. To add to it, Brittany always looks so tired during their routine false fire alarms, so she doesn't want to exhaust her with mundane conversation about the weather or her favorite color.
So, Santana just accepts the fact that she's too chicken shit to actually make a move and acknowledges the extent of their relationship for what it is.
All she is is a comfortable acquaintance with a dash of pining undertones.
Plus, she doesn't even know if Brittany is even into women. The only other person she sees leaving Brittany's dorm room is her roommate, Sugar. But even then, Sugar is hardly ever there. Santana thinks she probably sleeps over at her boyfriend's dorm.
Santana's roommate, Mercedes, mentioned once that she saw Sugar sucking face with some guy in the lobby. Which Santana took to mean that Sugar is straight and therefore not a threat. And even though she probably wasn't one to begin with, Santana's still relieved to have ruled her out.
Because really, Santana's the obvious first choice to be Brittany's roommate turned girlfriend turned future wife.
She shakes her head, cursing her thoughts for easily getting away from her. It's obviously wishful thinking because she can't even seem to muster up enough courage to talk to Brittany. But still, she sighs, if only.
"Girl, you are not as subtle as you think you are." Mercedes chuckles from across the room, breaking Santana from her inner dialogue.
Santana clears her throat and redirects her eyes back down to the sketchpad on her lap, "I was just thinking," she says with a roll of her eyes.
"You mean you were just daydreaming. Again."
"Shut up," Santana mumbles, a slow blush creeping onto her cheeks, "and keep your damn voice down. She could've heard you."
"I thought you said Brittany always has her headphones on? There's no way she heard me teasing you about your little crush on her. Is she wearing them right now? She is, isn't she?"
Santana eyes widen and she snaps her head to the side to look at her roommate, "Mercedes!" she hisses through gritted teeth, "What the fuck?"
Her roommate only laughs at that and goes back to painting her nails, content with embarrassing Santana enough for one night.
It was obviously a bad decision to talk to Mercedes about Brittany. But after more than a few trips down twelve floors of stairs with Brittany in complete silence, Santana had to confide in someone. It just so happened that Mercedes caught her red handed, straight up staring at Brittany's back and sketching her like the creep she is.
At least Mercedes was cool about it though. There's the obvious teasing here and there but overall, she's glad she ended up with a roommate that's a pretty chill person.
They initially bonded when Mercedes invited Santana to karaoke night with her friends at a nearby bar. It wasn't until Mercedes placed a microphone in Santana's hand for a duet that they both found out how compatible they really were. Their voices blended perfectly, so much so that it was enough for them to look past their constant discourse in TV show taste.
Which of course Santana believes wholeheartedly that her refined taste in trashy reality tv is obviously superior to Mercedes' taste in history documentaries. Who in their right mind would watch old history documentaries for fun? Oh, that's right, history majors.
Santana glances up again and looks at Brittany still sitting at her desk, head hung low, pencil gliding easily over her notepad. She's glad to have picked this side of the room when first moving in. If both hers and Brittany's dorm room doors are open, she has just enough of a right angle from her bed to garner a clear line of sight to Brittany's desk.
She tells herself it's only slightly creepy and stalkerish, but she's still mildly annoyed with herself for technically spying on the girl next door. And it's not like she's fapping to the view of Brittany's back or anything. It's more like Brittany is Santana's muse.
Santana smiles softly and sets aside her homework, opening up her personal sketchbook to the familiar page and continues her sketch of the blonde across the hall.
By the time the next fire alarm comes around, Santana's made it her mission to level her pussy game up and finally talk to Brittany.
When the alarm goes off, Santana groans yet again. She reaches for her extra pillow and chucks it across the room, perfectly smacking Mercedes in the face. She smiles proudly at the sound of Mercedes groaning. If she's gained one random skill during college, it's the ability to throw a pillow with impeccable accuracy, eyes closed.
"One of these days I'm going to strangle that kid," Mercedes whines.
"Let me know when you find him, and I'll help."
"Can't we just stay here? Chances are it's another false."
Santana shakes her head and sits up, already putting on her shoes, "You know they'll do a floor by floor count downstairs. And I for one don't have the energy in me to come up with a decent lie when Berry asks because all I want to do when I see her face is slap it."
"Why is she so annoying, anyways?" Mercedes groans again, finally getting up, "Like, seriously who hurt her?"
Once they're ready and in the hallway, Santana tells Mercedes to go ahead without her. Mercedes rolls her eyes and steps in line with the other college zombies, slowly making their way to the emergency stairwell. A few nearby room doors open and Santana watches as sleepy eyes peek out to quietly assess their surroundings. She knows they're silently making a judgement call on whether or not to join in the tiring parade or retreat back into their room. A judgement call entirely dependent on the urgency in which the other students are moving.
She laughs to herself when they decide to retreat.
"Ready to rock and roll?" Brittany catches Santana's attention and she looks at her, a sleepy smile gracing her lips.
Her eyes look tired, Santana notes, and when she sees the book in her hand at her side, she knows Brittany wasn't sleeping. She was probably up studying again.
Like usual, they fall into step, side by side until they reach the stairwell. Santana reaches for the door first and holds it open for Brittany to step inside. She giggles softly when Brittany pauses for a second, looking down at the first step in front of her and sighs deeply.
"Keep it moving, ladies!" Someone yells from below, the faint beam of a flashlight flickering through the small open space in the middle of the spiraling stairs.
Santana sticks her hand out just enough to display her middle finger and this time it's Brittany's turn to giggle.
"I know that was you, Santana!" Rachel yells.
As petty as she can be at times, Santana decides to ignore Rachel, not wanting to get into a yelling match that spans multiple floors. She doesn't want to put Brittany through that right now. Not when she looks this exhausted.
When they reach the outside world, they silently make their way to their designated spot. It's not actually designated, it's just the spot that they've deemed theirs after a while. Usually by the time they make it down, all the best spots to wait are taken, meaning no open benches or rock walls for them to sit on or lean against.
She takes a quick glance at the separate groups that have branched off respectfully. The smokers, appropriately huddled around the benches near the outdoor ashtrays; the sleepers, donning comfy hoodies and curled up along the benches by the bushes (where Santana almost accidentally fell asleep that one time); the partiers, red cups still in hand and standing closest to the building, just itching to get back inside to no doubt finish their riveting game of beer pong or flip cup or whatever dumb drinking game was newly invented.
Santana follows Brittany a few steps behind as they walk past everyone. They don't exactly fit into any of those spots.
No, they've chosen a special spot for just the two of them. It's a little ways down from where the rest of the groups are. Chosen by Brittany undoubtedly due to its great lighting, allowing her to continue studying uninterrupted on the occasion that she has a textbook with her. It even comes with a support beam perfect for leaning, which allows Santana to be almost shoulder to shoulder with Brittany.
Alright so it's a street lamp. Their special spot is a dumb ordinary street lamp. But it's their street lamp.
Brittany assumes position, her right shoulder against one side of the pole, and Santana takes the other side, her left shoulder just a pole's width away.
Suddenly, Santana's phone buzzes in her bra and she jumps, blushing when Brittany looks at her curiously.
Weezy: It's now or never, Lopez.
She looks up and finds Mercedes in the crowd of sleepers, waving tiredly at her. She rolls her eyes and tucks her phone back into her bra.
"You should really stop doing that, you know."
Santana looks at Brittany questioningly, shocked that she's actually talking to her. Brittany nudges her head toward her, her eyes glancing down at Santana's body before meeting her eyes again.
Her ears grow hot at how suggestive Brittany's being and she thinks maybe, just maybe Brittany was hitting on her.
"Your phone, Santana." Brittany grins knowingly, closing her book as she turns to face Santana fully, "You shouldn't put your phone in your bra."
Oh. Santana's cheeks burn and she tries to hide her face as she shrugs awkwardly, "Nature's pocket. The girls keep it secure."
Brittany doesn't reply immediately and just smiles at her. Almost as if she's trying to figure out how to respond to that. "Maybe go with a normal pocket next time? Wouldn't want the girls to get damaged, now would you?"
Santana blinks, "Wait, I thought that was a myth?"
"Can never be too careful."
It's a stalemate for a few seconds until Santana relents, pulling her phone from her bra and placing it into the pocket of her sweatpants. "Happy? No more pocket bra."
Brittany smiles, eyes crinkling slightly, "Actually, I was kinda surprised you even remembered to wear a bra this time." She says with ease, quickly glancing down at Santana's chest one more time before assuming her previous position and opening her textbook to continue her reading.
To say that Santana was stunned would be putting it lightly. Was Brittany… flirting? Wait, this also means that despite how much Santana tried to hide them by crossing her arms over her chest, Brittany definitely noticed the little peaks poking out from behind her sleep shirt during the last fire alarm. That night was an especially cold night…
Santana's phone buzzes again and she grabs it from her pocket tilting it away enough just in case Brittany gets curious.
Weezy: Are my eyes deceiving me or was that an actual real conversation? Girl, you look like you're about to pass tf out lol. What happened?
She's not wrong. It was, by definition, a very real conversation. In fact, it was the first and only real conversation she's ever had with Brittany that lasted more than two sentences. She quickly types out a reply and hits send, not quite sure how else to put it because that's literally what just happened.
Santana: We talked about my tits.
Of course, the next time the alarm goes off it's the first night of finals week.
Luckily, Santana's still up when it happens so she's ready to go. She looks up and over to Brittany's open dorm room and sees that she has her headphones on, again. She can't help the smile that pulls at her lips as she leaves her room and stands at Brittany's doorway. Just as she's about to reach for the light, Brittany turns around slowly, almost as if she had sensed Santana was there.
"Well, at least it's early tonight." Brittany attempts to smile but Santana can see the exhaustion in her eyes. She waits for Brittany to collect her things and soon enough, they're both standing outside at their spot.
It's only been about a week since tittygate but Santana still hasn't fully recovered from it yet. And since Brittany had some words of knowledge for her last time, it was only fair Santana returned the favor.
"So, I was thinking," Santana starts, breaking the silence and turns to the taller girl.
Brittany, curious, closes her book and looks at her expectantly.
"And this is just something I've noticed. N-not that I'm looking a lot or anything," Santana curses internally to herself, "I mean, it's just more of like a safety thing and I wouldn't want anything to happen to you."
Santana watches as Brittany cocks her head ever so slightly and raises an eyebrow, waiting for more.
"You always have your back to the door." Santana goes on, "Which can be dangerous… especially when you leave your door wide open…"
She takes her time processing Santana's stumbling words but within seconds a smile slowly pulls at Brittany's lips.
"It's just something I've noticed." Santana shrugs lamely, trying her best to save this sinking ship.
"Hmm," Brittany finally responds, a hint of playfulness in her eyes, "So, would you suggest I sit elsewhere?"
Santana's eyes widen because she only now just realizes that she didn't really think this one through. If Brittany isn't sitting at her desk, then she won't see her anymore. The angles, Santana. Think of the angles.
"Oh, well I just meant," Santana tries to think of something quickly but comes up short, "Actually, I don't know what I meant. Maybe just be more aware of your surroundings, I guess? You always have your headphones on and you can't even hear the fire alarm when it goes off. You definitely won't hear it if some rando sneaks up behind you to murder you or something."
Santana can't believe how morbid she's being and hopes she isn't scaring her but Brittany seems unfazed, her smile only widening, "So, maybe I should just close my door then?"
"Wait what?" Santana panics, scrunching up her face in embarrassment, "No, I was just saying to be more careful…You don't have to close your door."
"You want me to be safe, but you don't want me to close my door, the one thing that would ensure my safety?"
"I, uhm, I don't know." Santana looks away defeated, scuffing her foot against the concrete floor, her hand rubbing at the back of her neck, "I'm trying really hard to not be weird about this, I swear."
"I'm messing with you." Brittany laughs, a genuine belly laugh, treating Santana's ears to the sound, "Really, it's fine, Santana. You don't have to worry, I can take care of myself. Besides, I've got a few tricks up my sleeve."
Santana nods, not really understanding what Brittany means by that but accepting it. Brittany turns a little to look back at their dormitory to check if they got the all clear yet and Santana takes the brief moment to look at her. Her blue eyes somehow still gleaming even in this dim lighting but underneath it all Santana can see she's exhausted.
"I wish you would get more sleep."
Brittany looks at her suddenly, and Santana realizes she said that out loud.
"I-I mean," She stutters, trying to recover from her slip, "Finals, huh? Can't wait to get some sleep once it's all over."
The blonde studies her for a second and nods in agreement, "Yeah, same."
"You're in engineering, right? Must be rough."
"Actually, it's kind of boring." She points to her textbook, "The answers come easy. But I have to spend all my time studying the proper way because apparently they'll fail me if I can't show my work."
Again, Santana doesn't really know what to make of that. How does she get the answer before doing the work? How is that even possible? She thinks that it must be a good thing, it only proves her natural ability, but Brittany sounds almost sad about it. Engineering sounds a lot harder than she thought it was.
"How about you?" Brittany asks curiously, "Did you finish your drawing?"
It's such a simple question but Santana can't shake the feeling that Brittany knows more than she lets on.
"My drawing?" Santana baits.
"Oh," Brittany blushes and it's the first time Santana sees her confidence falter a little, "Aren't you an art major? I just assumed your final involved a drawing project of some kind…"
"I'm in Graphic Design, actually. So, I guess, technically you could call that a drawing project… of some kind." Santana tries to joke but it falls flat when Brittany doesn't return the smile.
Instead, Brittany frowns a little, worry settling between her brows, "Sorry, I hope that wasn't offensive. I can be an idiot sometimes."
"Hey, don't say that." Santana tells her quickly, "You're not an idiot. You're probably the smartest person I know."
"You're only saying that because I'm in engineering and I'm holding this book." She holds it up defeatedly and Santana frowns.
"Britt, I can't even read the title of that book. Which means I definitely wouldn't be able to read any of the words inside. And I'm a pretty smart person," Santana playfully puffs out her chest a little, "So that must mean you're loads smarter. You're a genius, Brittany."
She starts to smile, tucking some hair behind her ear, "That's silly…"
"No, I'm serious." Santana assures her with a smile, "Plus, you're practically bilingual. That's already more than what most can say."
Brittany's eyes grow wide but so does her smile, "Wait, how'd you know?"
Her question catches Santana off guard for a moment because she thought she was making a joke, but now she's lost track of where this conversation went. She mentally traces back the last few sentences to try and find it.
Brittany laughs though, genuinely curious so she asks again, "No really, how'd you know I was bi?"
"What?" Santana chokes as soon as she realizes what's happened. "I- uhm, I didn't- I wasn't sayin-"
"ALL CLEAR!" One of the firefighters yell from the entrance of the building.
"Oh, thank God." Santana exhales in relief. Thankfully, Brittany seemingly forgot the conversation at hand and motions to Santana that they should head back in.
When they make it back up to their rooms they stand in the middle of the hallway for a moment. A few returning residents grumble quietly as they maneuver around them.
"Well, this is me." Brittany looks at her dorm.
Santana nods, "Yeah, me too."
"Good luck on your drawing, Santana." She blushes a little, probably still not knowing what to call Santana's final project.
"Thanks," Santana smiles warmly, nodding toward the book in Brittany's hands to return the sentiment, "Good luck on your… math?"
"Technically." Brittany chuckles, turning away to open her door. She hesitates there for a moment before putting the door stop in place and looking back to Santana, "I promise to be more aware of my surroundings." She says teasingly, accompanied with a wink.
Nothing can stop the blush creeping up Santana's cheeks and onto the tips of her ears, "You're playing with fire, Pierce."
"I hope not," Brittany laughs, "I don't think I can handle two fire alarms in one night."
For the rest of the night, Santana can't seem to stop smiling. Her final project, long abandoned, and in place of it, her trusty sketchbook. Every time she looks up and sees Brittany sitting there, she keeps replaying their conversation in her head.
She's bi. Brittany's bi… and something tells her she might just have a chance.
Finals week passes in a blur but at least Santana got to talk to Brittany every night that week. It was nice, and comforting. A few awkward slips here and there on Santana's part but Brittany didn't seem to mind. They seemed to be really getting along and getting to know each other a little more.
Every night, after the alarm, Santana sat on her bed. Half of her time devoted to finishing her final project and the other half spent finishing her side project. At first, it started off as a simple sketch of Brittany studying, the same one Mercedes caught Santana drawing, but then over time it grew to something so much more. She added more and more detail every time she went back to it until finally, she created one cohesive piece.
She hadn't intended to draw what she did, it just happened.
That's why the week after finals, Santana decides she's finally going to shoot her shot. The next alarm will be it. She's going to give Brittany the drawing and just hope to god she understands.
That's shooting her shot, apparently. Or at least that's all she's got planned right now.
Luckily, it's been only a few days since the last fire alarm, so she knows she has at least a few more to plan. Should it be a grand gesture? Does Brittany even like grand gestures? Maybe she'll stay on the safe side and go without a big grand gesture.
Santana shakes her head, deciding it's probably for the best to call it a night. She moves to her dorm door, and lingers there for a moment, staring into Brittany's room. It kind of sucks because now that Brittany doesn't have to study anymore, she's rarely sitting at her desk. But from where Santana's standing now, she can see part of Brittany's feet bouncing rhythmically up and down. Santana smiles, knowing that Brittany likely has her headphones on again.
Reluctantly, Santana closes her door. Mercedes is still out with her friends celebrating. Meaning Santana can finally enjoy a nice long shower without her roommate knocking every five minutes yelling that she's using up all the hot water. Plus, Santana might as well get ready for bed now so she can at least get some shut eye while she can before Mercedes comes back asking to hold her hair up for her.
As predicted, the long shower was much needed. She can't help but feel like this is the most relaxed she's been in a long time.
But of course, as fate would have it, just as she steps out of the shower, Santana can already hear the faint sounds of the fire alarm going off. She groans, knowing that she still has to dry herself off and change before she can make her way downstairs. Not to mention she told herself she'd make her move on Brittany the next false alarm and here we are.
Something in the back of her mind tells her to hurry up and change, and she starts to feel a weird prick on the back of her neck. It doesn't follow the usual pattern, she thinks. Sure, the other false alarms didn't have an exact schedule either but still, she can't help but feel weird about this one. Like, it's happening too soon.
Santana walks out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around her body, and she pauses for a moment, straining her ears to listen to the sounds of the hallway.
Her eyes widen the moment she recognizes it. Running.
People are running through the hall which could only mean one thing. There's a real fire.
Santana's thoughts immediately turn to Brittany and her headphones. Brittany probably can't hear it and she has to warn her. Hurriedly, she throws her towel to the side, moving as fast as she can to dress herself. Her anxiety already at an all-time high.
Suddenly there's a loud bang on her door, and Santana screams unexpectedly, jumping as she's still trying to put her foot into her pants. The jerk reaction causes her to stub her toe and she loses her balance, falling to the ground beside her bed, hard.
"Santana?" Brittany yells from the other side of the door but Santana's too busy cursing at the sharp pain in her foot to respond when Brittany asks, "Santana, are you okay in there?"
Within seconds of finally processing Brittany's question but before she has time to answer back, her entire door is being kicked open and Brittany is rushing inside.
"Brittany, what the fuck!?" Santana screams from the ground, grabbing at what she can of her bedsheet from above her, desperately trying to cover the goods. She looks behind the blonde, "Oh my god, my fucking door!"
Brittany's never been redder in the face. She turns around quickly, finally noticing that her actions caused a scene, and that people were starting to gather at the opening.
"Close the door!" Santana yells and she watches as Brittany tries, fails, and tries again to close what's left of her mangled door. Honestly, if Santana wasn't half naked and exposed, she probably would've found the whole thing hilarious.
"Oh my god, Santana, I'm so sorry," Brittany apologizes once she's able to maneuver the door closed enough, "I heard a noise and I was worried."
"You heard a noise, so you kicked my door in?" Santana stands, still catching her breath.
Brittany, still facing away from Santana as she finishes dressing herself, hangs her head low, "Santana, I heard you scream, followed by a loud thud. A-and the alarms were going off and people were running all around me. I don't know what came over me. I-I was so scared something happened to you."
Santana finally gets her tank top on and when she looks back at Brittany, she frowns. She looks like she's been rejected, and Santana can't have her thinking that. Not when Brittany was worried for her, so much so that she didn't let a measly door stand in her way to make sure she was alright.
"Hey, wait no…" Santana says softly, feeling like shit for making Brittany feel bad. She moves to stand in front of Brittany, pinching her chin softly to lift her head up, "Thank you for coming to my rescue…"
"I'm sorry about your door." Brittany apologizes again but Santana shakes her head.
"You're my lady knight in shining armor."
Brittany blushes something fierce and Santana can't stand to hold herself back any longer. Her hand moves to Brittany's cheek, the pads of her fingers skating across smooth pink skin. She leans in and places a tender kiss to Brittany's lips. When she pulls away the world is suddenly soft. The only thing capturing her senses is Brittany. All else falls away.
"Santana?" Brittany whispers.
Santana only hums in response, not wanting to break the moment. She wants to remember everything about this night, consciously uploading a picture-perfect snapshot of these last few minutes so that she doesn't forget a single detail.
Brittany smiles though, giggling a little at the girl in front of her, "Santana, the building is on fire."
"Oh shit, I forgot about that!" Santana's eyes widen and she quickly grabs hold of Brittany's hand before ripping her broken door open again and pulling Brittany through the hallway and down the stairs.
So, it turns out the alarm was yet again another false. Apparently, some kid named Puck a floor above them had the same fleeting thought of how strangely out of schedule this one was. So naturally, they did the dumbest thing they could think of and ran through the halls yelling, "FIRE!"
Which of course created panic. Resulting in a broken door, a very exposed Santana, and most importantly, a kiss. She can't wait to tell Mercedes.
Shit, Mercedes. She's going to flip her shit when she gets back and finds their dorm room in that condition. Santana makes a mental note to send her a quick text to let her know.
As they wait downstairs together, Santana doesn't let go of Brittany's hand. They don't talk about the kiss, they just stand at their spot, leaning on their respective sides of their street lamp, only this time, fingers interlocked. Every few minutes they'll catch each other's eyes and smile shyly before looking away.
When the all clear is given and they get back to Santana's dorm, Santana begins assessing the damages.
It looks unsalvageable. Santana thinks maybe the door itself might still be okay, but she'll still need a new door frame at the very least.
"So, this is the famous drawing you've been tirelessly working on every night, huh?" Brittany pulls Santana's attention away from her door and she turns around to find Brittany looking down at the open sketchbook sitting on her bed.
Santana scans Brittany's face, hoping to gauge a reaction. They already kissed so that's out of the way but this, this feels more intimate. Almost as if Brittany is seeing her deepest desires.
She moves to stand beside her, and watches as Brittany bends down to pick up the sketchbook to inspect it further.
"Do you like it?" Santana asks, nervous.
"It's so beautiful, Santana."
"Yeah?" She blushes, "You don't think it's creepy?"
"Not at all." Brittany's hand moves to point at the left area of the paper and looks at Santana smiling widely, "This is my favorite part."
Santana blushes, and looks at her own drawing. It's Brittany's room. Or at least what she can see from her own bed and what she could gather in passing glances inside. She drew Brittany in her usual position, sitting at her desk studying. From the shading, it looks as if the lamp beside her desk is illuminating the room. It's overall a pretty accurate illustration of Brittany studying. That is, aside from the very obvious addition to the left of the picture. The area that Brittany is pointing at.
"I just sort of started drawing it there and I don't know… I kinda liked it so I kept it." Santana admits, her heartbeat quickening at her confession.
Brittany smiles, her fingertips barely ghosting over the perfect placement of lines and shading, coming together to depict a figure sitting atop Brittany's bed.
"It's you. You're sketching on my bed." Brittany looks back at her, a glint in her eyes.
"It is. And I am." Santana chuckles, "I look pretty good next to you."
"Yeah, you do."
"Wait, how'd you know I was working on something?" Santana asks, realizing that Brittany knew she was working on something.
But Brittany doesn't answer her exactly and winks, "I told you already, I've got a few tricks up my sleeve."
Before Santana can inquire further, they're rudely interrupted by their Resident Assistant running into the room like a bat out of hell.
"What the hell happened here?" Rachel looks pointedly at the brunette, "This is definitely going in my report, Santana."
"Wait, Rachel, this was all my fault," Brittany's quick to step in, "But bon't worry, I can fix it. I'm an engineer."
"You better fix it." Rachel huffs, "And do it soon or I'm going to bill you both for the repairs."
They both watch as Rachel walks away in a hurry, scribbling some notes onto a clipboard. Something tells Santana she should be expecting a bill regardless.
"Jesus, something is seriously up her ass." Brittany exhales.
Santana laughs a little at that and turns to Brittany, "Wait, can you really fix my door?"
"I don't know, I lied." Brittany admits smoothly, "But it can't be that hard right?"
"You lied to her?" Santana feigns surprise, "But you're an engineer."
"Technically I'm almost an engineer." Brittany giggles, holding up her hand to display her bare fingers, "They didn't put a ring on it yet, so I didn't take the oath."
Santana shakes her head smiling and takes the opportunity to grab hold of Brittany's hand, lacing their fingers together, "You're lucky you're cute."
"I know." Brittany smiles proudly back.
"Well, I'm gonna need you to be cute and an engineer, Britt. So you have to fix it because I can't live like this. Please?" Santana tells her, gesturing to her splintered door frame.
"Santana, I'm in Electrical Engineering." Brittany pouts, "I honestly don't know the first thing about building a new door frame."
"But where am I supposed to sleep then?" Santana pales, thinking of her potential prospects.
"Well," Brittany turns her attention to her own dorm, already pulling Santana towards it, "I have a perfectly working door… I say we go in there and reenact that drawing of yours."
Santana doesn't resist, giggling at the suggestion, "Oh?"
"Mhmm, with a few edits, of course." Brittany nods, opening her door and for the first time, Santana finally steps into Brittany's room. The door closes and all that's left is the sounds of giggling floating from inside.
-fin-
AN: So something recently reminded me of all the times I stayed over at the dorms in college and how often we had to evacuate the building in the middle of the night. Which of course then made me think, hmm, cutesy college Brittana one-shot. Idk, I hope this was fun to read lol. Would y'all want a Brittany POV companion piece to this? Because I have IDEAS.
Also… shout out to the Brittana Discord server :P If anyone out there is looking for a found family, look no further and consider joining! It's a blast in there.