Brittany wasn't sure who fell asleep, but she only remembered falling asleep as she rubbed Santana's back, both of them sunk into the warmth and comfort of their bed and each other. Morning came sooner than she would've liked given how little sleep they'd gotten the night before, but aside from brief stirring and a few minutes when they were both awake, they slept on, Santana sliding off Brittany and Brittany curling around her as they fell back to sleep, something that was much needed for the both of them, Santana especially.
She finally blinked into consciousness for good sometime around midmorning, shifting in bed to sit up, yawning as she raked a finger through her hair, stretching her spine to peer out window, seeing that the sun was already pretty high in the sky of another gray January day. As if she was being timed, Santana stirred beside her, almost instantly after Brittany had broken contact and sat up. Grinning, she reached over, rubbing Santana's back as a good morning.
"That was probably a personal record," Brittany laughed, referring to how quickly Santana registered Brittany not there. Some mornings, Brittany made it all the way into the kitchen or the bathroom before Santana appeared beside her, seemingly out of thin air, even when Brittany assured her she wasn't going to leave the apartment and keep sleeping.
"Good morning," She yawned, picking up her phone to make sure it actually still was morning which it was. She saw she had a few texts and emails, but being that it was a Saturday, Brittany didn't rush to answer them, instead sitting against the pillows while Santana rubbed her eyes and woke up beside her.
"We needed that," Brittany observed, referring to their sleep-in. Usually it was either Santana's classes or Brittany's classes getting them out of bed fairly early each day, but today, gloriously, was a weekend, and Brittany had no classes to teach.
"I'm so hungry." Brittany said, kicking her legs out of the bed, popping her hips as she stood up before she pulled the comforter up on her side of the bed. "Come on sleepy," She giggled, walking around to Santana's side of the bed to pulled her up, looping her arms around her when she did. "You should probably change your pad," Brittany said, remembering that Santana actually did have her period, something that she knew was going to be a struggle. After a beat, she added, "Do you want me to come with you?"
Santana had slept well after the broken night, without dreams. The comforting words and touch Brittany had given her unceasingly had helped calm her enough to actually relax, at least for as long as she maintained continued physical contact. As soon as Brittany sat up, rising, however, Santana stirred, immediately sensing and awakening from the absence of Brittany fully touching. She squinted, yawning, her hair tousled, and gave a half hearted scowl that faded quickly when Brittany rubbed her back.
"Mm," she grouched in response to Brittany's addressal; to Santana, there is no such thing as a "good" morning. She didn't resist though when Brittany pulled her up, looping her arms around her neck and barely supporting herself as she stood, leaning into her.
At Brittany suggesting she change her pad, Santana's grasp on her tightened slightly. She had forgotten for the moment about the drama of her discovery from the night before. She hesitated, feeling a new flicker of anxiety with the reminder, and then nodded against Brittany in response to her question about coming with her to the bathroom. She made no effort to move.
Brittany laughed at Santana's morning grouchiness, something that always persisted when she first woke up but was usually easy to chase away with a few kisses. When she leaned into her, Brittany supported her around the waist, smoothing down her bedhead as they stood embracing, soaking up a few long seconds with each other as the morning light filtered in.
She felt Santana tense slightly in her arms, waiting in the silence. She didn't rush to fill it, instead giving her the time to think through her answer, patient as she held her there, supporting most of her weight against her own body. When she felt Santana's head nod against her shoulder, Brittany smiled, tilting her head to press a kiss to her cheek, patting her twice on the butt. "Come on, it'll be quick," She said, knowing it was something that was fast and simple, but also knowing it was something that caused Santana so much anxiety.
Reaching up, she unwrapped one of Santana's arms from around her neck, threading their fingers together, placing a kiss on the back of Santana's hand as she lead her from their bedroom to the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind her. Even though they were the only two in the apartment, she had a habit of shutting the door, trying to make the space seem as small and safe as possible.
Squeezing Santana's hand, she let go, moving over to the drawer she'd been rooting around in last night, crouching down and pulling it open again, this time not even asking Santana which she preferred, easily seeking out a wrapped pad and holding it out for her to take. "I'm right here," She leveled, standing back up and leaning with her hips against the countertop, wanting to steady Santana.
Santana hugged her back willingly, relaxed into Brittany and losing some of her grouchiness marginally. As Brittany kissed her cheek and patted her butt, understanding and supportive of her anxiety at having to clean up after herself and face the blood again- and possible flashbacks. Without great enthusiasm she rubbed at her face and let Brittany lead her back into the bathroom, squeezing her hand unconsciously.
This morning though she isn't as upset. She's prepared for one thing for the blood, and although she still cringes at it, hating to see it and having to swallow several times against the anxiety it causes, she pees, attends to the necessary hygiene, and redresses without needing more than Brittany's presence for support.
"Fucking hate this," she muttered to herself more than Brittany, more disgusted with herself than with the actual period. "I'm totally bloated and gross. I look like one of the Kardashians pregnant."
Pushing the bathroom door open, she heads straight to the coffee maker. Today, she vows to herself silently, that's all she's having. Clearly now that she's had her period start back she can back off with the eating thing. Enough is enough.
Brittany hung back, letting Santana do it herself, going through her routine of washing her face, her ears piqued for any whimper or sign of distress from Santana. She got through it though, much to Brittany's surprise and happiness, and when Santana met her eyes in the mirror, she smiled at her as she rinsed her face wash off. "See? Not so bad," Brittany grinned, toweling off her face, shaking her head at Santana's grumpy commentary.
Santana wasn't a cynical person, not by any means, but she loved to complain to Brittany how bloated her period made her or how much more it made her look tired or gross, even though Brittany had never seen a change in her physical appearance.
"For the hundredth time, you hardly even bloat," She giggled as she followed Santana into the kitchen, amused at her complaints. Even on her worst period days, Santana's stomach was barely ever swollen or rounded, and Brittany secretly thought she'd once heard of bloating on a TV show when they were younger and decided it would be one of her symptoms.
An amused smirk still on her face, Brittany got two bowls down from the cabinet like she did every morning. When coming back from New York had been particularly rocky for Santana, they'd gone out and bought the same brand of Special K that the Pierces had had, and it quickly became Santana's comfort breakfast food. Brittany never even asked what she wanted anymore, and usually, getting Santana to eat it every morning was easier than getting her to eat any other time of the day.
"Do you want banana with your cereal?" Brittany asked over her shoulder as Santana fiddled with the coffee machine, already slicing a few banana pieces for herself. It was something she usually asked, and while Santana said no often, there had been some mornings where she'd actually eaten a few pieces of banana with her cereal, a tiny triumph that left Brittany feeling proud of her for days. It was a hit or miss, but Brittany always asked just in case.
Santana rolled her eyes at Brittany's refutation, inwardly convinced that Brittany is magically unable to see her horrific bodily change that she is certain she can see. Still grumpy, she doesn't pay much attention as she starts getting out mugs for herself and Brittany, although Brittany generally doesn't drink coffee. She always gets one out for her regardless of what Brittany does drink, so their cups sort of "match".
It wasn't until Brittany asked her about eating a banana that Santana realized she was getting her cereal out, as she did every morning. Which meant, obviously, that Brittany hadn't received Santana's mental memo that she was not actually eating breakfast anymore.
"I'm not eating cereal," Santana responded, and when she realized that this sounded like she was saying she was eating something else instead, she quickly clarified, "Or anything. I'm not eating."
Her words sounded defiant even to her own ears, like she was just being grouchy, so she made an effort to speak with a tad more "logic."
"I have my period so clearly I've eaten enough to last me. No need to keep on with it. I'm fine now so I'm done."
There. That sounded nice and reasonable to her.
When Santana spoke, Brittany paused with the banana, eyebrows raised. Usually, Santana never switched up the routine or wanted to try foods other than what she was used to eating, so cereal had become their go to, something Brittany could make and know for certain that Santana would at least eat little bites of.
She was about to open her mouth and ask what she wanted instead, wondering if Santana was about to tell her she wanted something like eggs or maybe even something with more fat or proteins than cereal, but Santana interjected before she could even ask, clarifying that it wasn't just the cereal, she wasn't having breakfast at all. Although she had just gotten her period, Brittany didn't see it coming, thinking that they'd been making steady progress with Santana's eating and that, while sometimes there were hard days, Brittany could get her to eat most of the time and when she prompted Santana to eat a little more, she usually listened.
Sighing, she set down the butter knife she was using to cut the banana, turning around to face Santana as she spoke, resting her hips back against the countertop. "Santana, no. Getting your period back is not a free pass to stop eating." She said. "You need to eat, we haven't eaten since dinner last night, Babe. You body doesn't store food like that to 'last you', that's why we're supposed to eat like, three meals a day." Brittany argued. Santana sounded resolute in her decision, like this was something she thought about and was happy with her decision, and Brittany wondered if she'd budge at all.
"Come on, it's just like a regular morning. Let's sit and eat cereal and then we can go on a walk or watch a movie or something. Nothing's different because you have your period now." Brittany tried to coax gently, turning back around to their cereal bowls, hoping Santana would just accept her point and eat, even if only a little.
"Well I'm not hungry," Santana countered, facing Brittany with crossed arms. "Eating when you're not hungry isn't healthy." Not that she plans on admitting when or if she is hungry. "Besides, it does too store to last you. That is literally what fat is for, storing to last you. And I clearly now have enough and extra besides, enough to spew out blood. So I don't need to eat. I'm clearly just fine."
She sipped at her coffee, not sitting down at the table. Because then she knew Brittany would put a hand on her leg and that was a chance she might give in.
"Actually it's not just like any morning and things are different. Yesterday I wasn't having my period and today I am. If I go off it again then I'll eat again."
This too sounds reasonable to her. Definitely a healthy compromise.
When Santana pushed back against her, Brittany sighed, but didn't pause, still shaking cereal out of her Lucky Charms box before setting it down and folding it closed. "I don't think overeating is an issue, San." She said, her back still turned to Santana as she prepared their cereal. "You don't have extra, having your period isn't an extra thing, you just barely have enough for your body to function normally again." Brittany pointed out, realizing getting her period was going to be more of a struggle than she'd thought.
"Getting your period means you're healthy - more healthy than you were a few weeks ago when you weighed less." Brittany said, her voice calm and even, opening the Special K and shaking some into Santana's bowl. "And okay, our bodies store fat, but that doesn't mean people can walk around and function without eating. You have to keep eating. I don't even let my dancers take more than 2 straight classes unless they bring a snack." She argued. "You didn't eat and you fainted in class." Brittany added gently. "I don't want that to happen to you again. Having your period isn't the end of the world." She turned to face her, "I know it scared you last night, but it's fine. Everyone gets their period for a few days and it doesn't change anything and then it goes away." Brittany tried to placate her while still standing your ground.
"I know you don't like it, but I need you to eat. We can sit there for as long as you want and you can take your time, but you need to eat something. Do you want to start with a banana for now and see if you want some cereal after?" She asked, offering fruit to start instead of cereal, trying to persuade Santana to put something in her body before it became a full out battle.
"I'm not scared," Santana argued, not budging from her standing, cross armed position. She glared at the cereal like it might leap into her mouth against her will. "I'm just thinking with logic here. I'm healthy, you said so. So I won't faint if I skip eating because I'm too fat to anymore. Plus I'm not doing a bunch of dance classes in a row. I'm not some twelve year old with a hummingbird metabolism. It has changed. It clearly means my body changed so what I can do with it changed."
She rolled her eyes, raising her voice partly incredulous, partly frustrated when Brittany made it clear she expected her to eat.
"No, I don't want a banana. I don't want anything. I already said that. So I'll have coffee and you eat what you want to and then we'll go about our day."
Brittany could already feel her calm threading at the edges, not out of anger, but out of confusion and slight frustration that she and Santana weren't agreeing. "I know you're not scared of eating, I meant last night," She backpedaled, crossing her arms over her chest at Santana's insistence that she wasn't afraid. At her argument that she was thinking with logic, she tilted her head, "Seriously? Come on San, you're still underweight. I didn't mean you had a 12 year old metabolism, I mean people, everyone, need to eat before they start their day or do anything or even function. Food helps your brain work. It makes you feel better. We're burning off energy right now, even though we're doing nothing. Your body does it all the time."
She didn't budge when Santana rolled her eyes, hopeful, for half a second, that Santana would agree to eat the banana, even if she was snappy about it. Brittany didn't care about her attitude, so long as she got her to eat. It was evident though, that Santana had no plans to consume anything other than coffee.
"Do you want to go to the doctor then?" She asked, feeling a hot lick of anger. She wasn't angry at Santana, not at all, but she was angry that Santana wasn't taking care of herself and was hurting her own body. She felt a surge of protectiveness for Santana, to want to take care of her, even though she was the one jeopardizing her own health. "If you're healthy or overweight, the doctor will say so." She pointed out, knowing Santana would balk at the idea.
"I don't want to talk about last night, that's over. This is today," she snapped, her voice taking on a slightly louder and more taut edge. "And I am not underweight. You said it, I'm healthy. I'm either healthy or I'm underweight and since you said I'm healthy I can't be underweight, I am FINE. Food does not make me feel better, okay? Food makes me feel worse. Not eating when I don't want to eat feels much better than eating when I don't want to."
Her eyes widened, and she slammed the coffee cup down on the counter and gawked at Brittany furiously when she suggested seeing a doctor. "No I don't want to see a doctor! I hate doctors, you know that, why the hell would I go see a doctor? There is no reason to see a doctor, I'm FINE!"
Brittany's eyebrows raised at how quickly Santana dismissed how she felt last night, blinking as her voice escalated in volume but keep her facial expression steady. She resisted rolling her eyes when Santana latched on to the fact that Brittany had called her healthy, shaking her head a little. "I said you were healthy compared to when you didn't get your period. You are more healthy than you were then, but that doesn't mean you can give up ea-"
Santana slammed the coffee cup down so hard that Brittany flinched, expecting slivers of glass to explode at the force of her hand. The cup stayed intact, though, the heavy ceramic thunking against the countertop. She'd struck a nerve in Santana, she knew, by brining up the doctor.
"A doctor can prove your point that your healthy. If a doctor says you don't need to eat anymore then okay, I'll back off." She leveled with her, recovering from how the coffee cup had startled her. "And I don't believe you that you don't want to eat. I think your body wants to eat and you're convincing yourself you don't want to." Brittany pointed out.
It was a conversation they'd had a hundred times, back when Santana's heart told her she loved Brittany but Santana was desperately trying to convince herself, and everyone around her, otherwise. Brittany knew she had a strong mind, sometimes too strong, paired with an admirable stubbornness that Brittany though was adorable when it wasn't geared at her.
"I don't understand why not gaining weight is so important to you." Brittany said bluntly, feeling frustrated- like she failing to protect Santana from herself, like she owed to it Santana's body to push back at her and get her to eat. "You'll always be smaller than me and it's not like you'll ever not fit in my lap." She argued, her mouth set, determined to make her point, feeling a little afraid that Santana actually would flat out refuse to eat from that point forward.
"I don't want to go to the doctor! I'm not going, you can't make me go if I don't want to!" Santana practically yelped. Her hands pressed down flat against her thighs to try to hide that they were shaking. "Doctors always say there's something wrong with you so they can get your money, my dad is one, that shows how much they know. I'm not letting some doctor I don't know touch me for no reason, especially when I'm on my period, are you even serious?! God!"
She started pacing around the kitchen table, a hand running agitatedly through her hair as she continued to rant. "You don't know what my body wants, it does not want to eat, and my body is me so that doesn't even make sense. Stop trying to confuse me. I'm not telling you that you can't eat so why are you telling me I have to? You're being controlling."
Santana stilled when Brittany told her plainly what her thoughts were, that being thin was not important. It was a sore spot for Santana, something she didn't talk about often, if ever. There were a multitude if reasons she had come to equate thin with small. There had been her mother's focus on her own figure, which Santana had observed and taken note of when she was young, as well as the judgmental comments Alma and sometimes Maribel made about others' weight or appearance. There were the comments Alma had made repeatedly about Santana being ugly when she was upset or having a tantrum, even going so far as to tell her she had a "garbage face" when she cried. Carlos too had often grown irritated at Santana wanting short hair and boyish clothes, asking her why she couldn't just "want to be pretty like other girls."
By the time middle school and awkward years hit, Santana was teased by peers enough to take in the message that she did not fit the mainstream beauty formula. She was too dark, too gawky, too flat chested- she wasn't about to seal her doom by being fat too. By the time she joined the Cheerios and Sue's strict regiment of diet and weight was issued, Santana's idea of how she should and shouldn't look was firmly fixed. Fat equaled ugly, ugly equaled unpopular, and both meant she, Santana, was an unworthy failure. It was bad enough that she was gay- how could she add fat to the target list?
Besides, her abuela started putting her cheerleader pictures on her fridge, and her parents both seemed proud of her cheering, even if they never once attended a meet. That had to mean something.
As all this flew through her thoughts, too rapid and too much for her to really fully process, let alone explain to anyone, Santana's mouth set, and a pained look came into her eyes. She shook her head tightly, grinding out, "I know. You don't understand. You can't understand, you'll never understand, but it is important, okay? And you're wrong. I could get bigger than you. I could gain a shitload of weight and get bigger than Zizes, and then I would crush you."
The idea actually seems plausible to her, even likely, and her breathing gets a little unsteady as she says this. "I could. You don't know."
Brittany's eyes colored a shade darker when Santana renounced going to the doctor, bringing up her father and flat out refusing to let a doctor touch her, especially on her period. "That's not fair, you know I'd never let anyone touch you if I wasn't in the room with you." She argued, knowing Santana knew it was true, something that had been an unspoken rule when Santana was in the hospital, Brittany had always held her or at the very least, hovered closely nearby while Santana was examined.
Her eyes followed Santana as she paced, staying still where she leaned against the counter, her lips twisted to one side as she paced and ranted. When Santana accused her of being controlling, Brittany did roll her eyes, put off by her accusation. "I'm not being controlling, I'm caring," She clarified, her voice hard. She knew it wasn't something Santana was used to experiencing, someone arguing on her behalf for her, putting their foot down out of love and care for Santana. For the most part, outside being disciplined as a child, Santana's family had never stepped in to intervene with anything or force Santana to do anything, to eat, to get help, to take care of herself. It was foreign for Santana, and while Brittany understood it, she wouldn't let Santana pass it off as just Brittany being controlling.
"I'm not trying to control you, you can do whatever you want. I'm pushing you to eat because I care about you and I'd rather you be at home with me rather than end up in inpatient, because then I wouldn't be able to see you," She said flatly, bringing up the possibility of inpatient for the first time. It'd been something unspoken between them that they'd both feared, and now that Santana was backsliding, Brittany felt her veins run icy, wondering if it was truly a possibility.
"You're not going to get bigger than Zizes," Brittany said. "That would take a lot of unhealthy habits and I know you're not like that." She said, disarming Santana's fears easily. "And even if you did, what then? Would I love you less?" Brittany asked, her eyes shining with fierce determination, calling into question her own love for Santana.
Okay, maybe it wasn't fair. But seeing a doctor was a scary thought to Santana and Brittany knew that, so it didn't feel very fair of her to Santana to bring that up.
Santana actually continued to stand still, fully turned to face Brittany as she heard her voice grow hard. Arguing with Brittany had been rare enough that it shook her, every time it happened. She knew that Brittany was more than capable of getting angry, but generally, when it happened, it was on Santana's behalf- not towards Santana herself. Every time that it did happen, Santana's heart squeezed with fear that maybe this time was the time she had pushed Brittany too far. Maybe, just maybe, this was the time that Brittany would finally see her for the bitch she was and would have enough.
As Brittany reiterated to Santana that she was caring for her, trying to protect her rather than to control her, and reminded her that Santana in an inpatient hospital would be unable to see Brittany, Santana's fear kicked up several more notches, her chest growing tight with the reminder that the last doctors she had seen had threatened exactly that. Santana could not let that happen. She didn't think she could survive it. Being in the hospital had been hard enough with Brittany- to be there totally alone, all day and all night, with strangers and doctors and no control, would be terrifying.
When Brittany threw her final challenge her way, daring Santana to deny that she loved her, would love her still no matter her size, Santana's throat moved visibly as she swallowed hard. She knew very well that she couldn't deny Brittany's love for her. She might think sometimes- or more often than sometimes- that she didn't understand why or that she wasn't deserving of it, but she couldn't deny that Brittany did love her. Her head dropped, and her voice trembled a little as she mumbled, "You're confusing me. I don't know, okay, I just have to. I just…"
Then she gave up any effort to maintain her cool, surprising even herself as she burst into tears. "Stop being mad at meeee! I hate when you get mad at me!"
Brittany knew inpatient would be the worst possible scenario for Santana, and the fear felt too close in that moment, like it could be a real possibility if Santana was going to kick and fight like this every time she got her period or needed to eat something. Brittany had been happy that Santana had gotten her period last night, feeling relief that her body had enough nutrition to at least begin functioning properly, feeling like they'd taken a step towards recovery, whatever that looked like. And she'd known having her period stirred up a few deep fears in Santana, but didn't expect her to feel so strongly about not eating.
Still, although she knew it would be easy to back down and just let her restrict eating for a few days, she knew it would be so, so much worse if it landed her in inpatient, where there was nothing Brittany could do to soothe her, nothing she could do if they crossed past the point of no return and Santana needed more of a medical intervention than in the past. The thought sent a thrill down Brittany's spine, fearful and chilling.
When she brought up her love for Santana, throwing it out there and allowing Santana to question her, she waited, waited to see if Santana really would say that her being larger would weaken how much Brittany loved her. She didn't, as Brittany watched her, fumbling for an answer, hearing the distinct pinch in her voice that signaled she was trying to keep her composure. Brittany too, felt confused, unsure of how breakfast had put them in this place, riled up and arguing from across the kitchen where Santana stood near the table.
All at once, Santana burst, the tears she could see glossing over her eyes pouring forth, making Brittany's shoulders slump. Santana's tears didn't change her mind about anything she'd said, but she softened at the sight of her, holding her arm out with a sigh. "Come here, San." She said, beckoning for her.
Santana stood where she was for a few moments, scrubbing at her face in an effort to make herself stop, but once she lets emotion go, she generally finds it's too late to push it back down. Sniffing, she came forward to Brittany slowly and slid into her lap, fighting her usual urge to hide her face against her. She kept her head down, her back against Brittany's chest as she tried to calm herself down, but her emotions have found a new anxiety to hang onto now.
"Stop being mad at me," she mumbled, still tearful. "I hate fighting with you. It makes me feel cold all over. I'm sorry, okay?"
Apologizing is not something Santana Lopez does. Except when it comes to Brittany. She's the one exception to that, even if she's not fully sure what she's saying she's sorry for in the moment.
Brittany felt a little better when she had Santana in her arms, their raging emotions settling a little around them, feeling like she could breathe easier now that she was touching her, even though Santana was upset. "Santana," Brittany said, holding her around the ribs and turning her so she was facing her, her legs straddling Brittany's hips. Her chin was still tucked down against her chest as she mumbled through her tears, and Brittany reached down, guiding her chin up to make Santana look at her. "Calm down," She instructed evenly, her hand resting on Santana's leg.
"I'm not mad at you, I'm mad that you're not eating or taking care of your body because I'm scared for you." She said. Her heart squeezed at Santana's confession about feeling cold when they fought, followed by a teary apology. She knew it was partially Santana's hormones making her so upset, but she also knew Santana never reacted well when they argued, even if it was a small argument or over something silly.
"But I can be mad at you and still love you," Brittany added. "We can fight and argue about all different kinds of things, but that doesn't change the fact that I love you and I'm still right here and even if we argue we'll go to bed together and wake up in the morning and everything will be fine." She promised, knowing Santana's fear of arguing was actually just fear of abandonment. "You don't have to apologize to me," Brittany added, not wanting Santana to feel like she had to be the one to bend and apologize in order to get Brittany to stay.
Santana let Brittany turn her to face her, and as she looked up with Brittany's guiding hand, her eyes still glassy, she is relieved to see that Brittany looks calm and her voice has lost its cold tone. She feels a little better too when Brittany puts a soothing hand on her leg, taking a few breaths as she tried to listen to what Brittany was telling her.
As Brittany continued to explain to her that she wasn't angry at her, but rather that she was scared and angry because of Santana's behavior, Santana bit her lip, trying to sort out if this made her feel any differently. She struggled to differentiate between someone being mad due to her actions and being mad personally at her and therefore no longer caring about her.
"Okay," she said softly, hearing Brittany's promise that she still loves her and is there. "I am sorry though. I'm just...I'm just scared."
Of what, she doesn't say. Right now, it seems like her answer would be everything. Of gaining weight, yes, but also of losing weight and having to go to the hospital. Scared of her period and the memories it triggered, but also the lack of control she had over it all. Scared of her own intense feelings and how they often felt beyond her, and of the possibility they would one day push even Brittany too far, to change her loving her forever.
There's a lot she's scared of, and it seems heavy against her chest all at once.
"I know, I'm sorry too," She said, rubbing Santana's leg lightly, thinking it was only fair that they both apologized for hurting the other. "And in the same way you can be mad at me too and still love me," She flipped the situation, not wanting Santana think only Brittany ever got angry with her and not the other way around. She knew it was a fine line for Santana, being angry and fighting and then fearing that she'd gone to far and someone would be upset with her. "A fight is two people, San. It's usually not ever all on you," She assured her.
Her thumb rubbed against her pajama bottoms gently from where her hand rested on her leg, wanting to emotionally soothe her. "But this," she motioned around them with her free hand, referring to their argument. "We can't do this every time you have to eat." She said, her voice quiet. "Eating isn't something that's negotiable, and I know you're scared, and I'll do anything you want to make it easier on you, but if you don't eat we're just going to end up back where we started and have to do all this over again, and I want to keep you with me." Brittany said, knowing it was way easier to convince Santana when they were working toward the same thing, the same goal.
"And you're not going to get bigger, but even if you do it doesn't matter, because I'll still hold you just like this, and you know I won't let anything bad happen to you." She promised.
Santana released another uneven breath, catching her lower lip between her teeth, and then nodded faintly, knowing Brittany was right. She placed her hand over Brittany's arm, lightly stroking her thumb over her skin in wordless thanks for Brittany's comfort.
She met Brittany's eyes briefly and nodded again, a last tear escaping as she tried to pull back together. "I want to be with you too. Promise you'll be here? And you'll still want to hold me even if I turn into a vat of gravy with legs and hair? And even if I use words like fangs instead of songs sometimes?"
She is trying to sound playful, but part of her really does need to hear this.
"I guess I can just a little bit," she mumbled, sighing again. "Just a little. I really don't want to though."
Brittany pouted as the tiny rivulet cascaded down Santana's cheek as she snuffled, her tears finally tapering off, "Yes, I promise one hundred times," She swore, wrapping her hands around Santana's waist and giggling at her word choice, tucking her face into her neck. "I don't think we have anything to worry about if that's your concern," She laughed, peppering kisses against the side of Santana's neck. "I always want to hold you, holding you is my favorite." Brittany confessed honestly.
When Santana finally agreed to eat, she pulled away with a smile, her hands still around her waist. "A little is better than nothing," She said, reaching behind Santana to pull her bowl a little closer to the table edge. "Sit right here." She instructed, reaching to pull the chair next to Brittany over so that it touched against Brittany's chair, easily transferring Santana into it. "I'm right here." Brittany hushed when she felt Santana cling for a second, running her hand over her hair to soothe her. "Come on, I'm eating too." She encouraged, picking up her own spoon.
Santana giggled a little as Brittany kissed her neck, finally relaxing into her. She wrapped her arms around her waist, hugging her, and said with equal honesty, "I like you holding me, so I guess fate laid a hand."
When Brittany moved her into the chair beside her, setting the bowl of cereal back in front of her, Santana reached back for her, not wanting her to separate them, but relaxed marginally when Brittany petted her hair. She reached to take Brittany's left hand with her right, squeezing, and stared down at the bowl, now growing soggy, with apprehension before taking a small bite. Her stomach is in knots, but she manages a few more bites before putting down her spoon. "I'll try more later, okay? I'm not being a bitch, it's just hard today."
Brittany threaded their hands together easily, knowing physical touch was important to Santana, especially while they ate. She turned to her own cereal, eating silently beside Santana for a few minutes, grateful that their mini explosion had ended in Santana actually agreeing to eat a little. It calmed Brittany's fears, knowing that Santana had still eventually agreed to eat even though she was on her period and had started out that day refusing.
She let their knotted hands rest on Santana's leg as they ate, glancing up when Santana put down her spoon, reaching her self-declared limit. A quick look into her bowl told Brittany that she hadn't eaten as much as she normally did, and after hesitating for just a moment, Brittany squeezed her hand.
"Eat two more bites for me Babe, then you can be done." She promised. she wasn't sure if Santana would agree to it, having never asked her to eat more once she started eating, but Brittany made the attempt anyway, wondering if Santana would heed her request, curious to see how rigid she was with her own limits.
Santana's stomach flipped, and she stared down at the bowl like it had suddenly turned into a mass of concrete instead of cereal. She looked up at Brittany, seeing her concern for her rather than just an attempt at being a ruler or controller, as Santana had originally accused when upset. For anyone else, Santana would have refused and made a stink of it while doing so. But for Brittany, she slowly picked up the spoon and took two more tiny bites, having some difficulty swallowing around the lump in her throat.
Once the second bite was done, she let the spoon drop, sending a small splash of milk, and shuddered as though she had just done something both physically draining and emotionally harrowing. For Santana, this was actually how it felt. She pushed the bowl away like it would try to drain itself down her throat at once if it stayed close to her and fought tears.
"That was two bites, I'm done. I have to be done now, Britt, I can't."
Brittany kept their hands linked together, calmly resting on Santana's leg as she encouraged her to eat a little bit more. She'd never done it before, and her motivation was partially to see if Santana could be swayed in her limits and also just an attempt to give Santana's body as much food as she could possible convince her to eat, even if that took some gentle pushing on Brittany's part.
She smiled when Santana picked up her spoon again, leaning to press a kiss to Santana's shoulder gently, as a thank you. She knew they'd stepped across the line into the territory that only Brittany could be in - she was the only person who could push Santana like that and have her bend instead of break. It had always felt like an honor to her, to be allowed to say what she wanted and touch where she wanted, for Santana to treat her differently than she treated anyone else. She loved it, and in moments like this when it was such an upsetting thing, but Santana did it for her, she all but glowed.
"I know, you can be done now, that was good." Brittany said in response to Santana's teary protest, hearing her voice slightly more serious when she told Brittany she had to be done now. "If that's your limit than that's your limit," She nodded, pushing Santana's hair off her face. Santana knew her limits, and Brittany could tell when she'd reached them. It was a level of self awareness that Santana had but rarely voiced, and Brittany was proud that she did, leaning forward to press a kiss to her mouth. "I'm proud of you." She said simply, wanting Santana to be able to feel proud of herself for her effort.
Just as she pulled away from their kiss, her phone dinged on the table next to her empty bowl. Brittany glanced at it, tending to forget it was there completely when she was with Santana, put pulled it off the table, her body still leaned toward Santana. "Oh it's Rachel," She announced, thumbing open the text message to read it, scanning it over. "Kurt and Rachel want to come over and hang out today, or tomorrow if we want to." Brittany shared, glancing to Santana.
Santana closes her eyes as Brittany kisses her shoulder, still fighting her anxiety about even the small extra amount of food that seems to her a hugely enormous difference. She leaned her face into Brittany's hand, taking in the affection, and tried to soak in the pride Brittany voiced. Santana didn't feel proud. She just felt shaky and upset, but it was better to feel that way and make Brittany proud than to feel that way and disappoint her.
She barely heard when Brittany announced that Rachel was asking them to come hang out and took several seconds to respond. "Oh...hang out like how? If she has a specific itinerary of really boring, dorky things like looking at her scrapbook of Barbra while talking about argyle or something, that's a no. And don't put it past her, she's made roommate itineraries before. Spoiler, I didn't abide by them."
She shrugged. "If they can try to do something normal I don't mind I guess." From Santana, in reference to Rachel and Kurt, that's practically enthusiasm.
Brittany leaned over to kiss her cheek again before she stood, collecting their bowls and carrying them into the kitchen, figuring it would be easier if Santana didn't have to look at it. As she put the bowls in the sink, she grinned at Santana's indifference.
"I don't think they're planning on doing anything weird," Brittany giggled, leaning against the countertop to look at her.
She was glad Santana was open to hanging out with them, considering for a moment if she'd be unhappy with the idea and would just want to spend time with Brittany, especially on her period. Now that they were living together and not at the loft, it was all too easy for them to sink into their own world. They operated automatically as a pair, easily going about their days and schedules and ten returning to the loft, which meant they didn't see Kurt or Rachel as much anymore, which Brittany felt bad about, especially because they'd both been so helpful to Santana right after the breakup and the attack. She was prepared to have to do some convincing to get Santana to agree to having them over, but she was happy she didn't even have to.
"I'll tell them they can come over," She said, still smiling a little as she picked up her phone and typed a response. Although Santana had poked fun at Rachel, Brittany knew her response was thinly veiled love for their friends, knowing they meant a lot to her no matter how much she made fun of their dramatics.
"We basically already have itineraries," Brittany pointed out. The two of them went through their daily agendas so often, ping-ponging the repetition back and forth to calm Santana. "We just don't like, print them out or anything," Brittany laughed, "Maybe we should start?"
She was teasing, moving back around toward the table and holding her hand out for Santana, "Do you want to shower together before they get here?" She wondered.
"Um, you do remember who you're talking about, right? Barb-Berry and Her Majesty Hummel?" Santana arched an eyebrow. "They can't exist without doing something weird. They don't have to plan for it, it will happen."
Still, although she will in no way admit it, Santana misses the two. It was hard not to given she had lived with them. They were her very strange and dysfunctional distant siblings who thankfully shared no actual bloodline.
She made a only partly mock outraged noise at Brittany's teasing, putting a hand dramatically to her chest as though highly offended. "Did you just compare me in any way to Rachel Berry? Take it back, now!"
She was not so offended she would turn down showering with Brittany though. Ever. Taking her hand, she stood and started to walk with her to the bathroom with a faint lingering pout.
"We do not have an itinerary. We have a...schedule."
"If they burst into song spontaneously more than two times, you can throw them out of our apartment," Brittany compromised with a smirk, rolling her eyes at her fake dramatics, trying her best not to smile ridiculously at Santana's offense to being compared to Rachel. "You are giving me an Oscar worthy performance right now for being mad about being compared to Rachel," She giggled, "But I take it back." Brittany squeezed her hand when Santana took it, unable to think her pout was anything outside of adorable.
"We do have a schedule," Brittany agreed, playful in her comparison but aware, at the end of the day, their schedule was a huge comfort to Santana and something that got her from one thing to the next. "I love our schedule," She promised earnestly, tugging Santana into the bathroom. She did love it, aside from actually making it very difficult for Brittany to mess up her class times or forget important things, she loved what the schedule did for Santana, the way she visibly calmed after Brittany answered all of her questions for the day, settling noticeably under the most gentle of reassurances.
Pushing the bathroom door shut with her hip, Brittany reached in to turn on the water, testing it under her hand to make sure it was a comforting level of warmth. She let it continue to warm, pulling her shirt over her head and kicking her shorts and underwear off. Ever since their first therapy appointment, there were days where they'd shower separately and others where they'd shower together, sometimes in the interest of not being late, other times because they just felt like it. There were times where Santana would initiate it, shyly asking or tugging on Brittany's hand after she undressed, and times that Brittany was the one to do it, like today, unannounced, when she stepped over the lip of the bathtub and held out a hand for Santana to join her.
"More than two times? You're being way more generous than they deserve," Santana grumbled. "You know when I started college they made me a welcome BACK to college card?! Welcome BACK to college, Jesus!"
Still, as much as she had rolled her eyes out of her head she had secretly been touched. And she was smiling as she continued to nitpick Brittany's comparison.
"Schedules are okay. Everyone has schedules. Everyone who has any level of responsibility. Hell, people at McDonald's have a schedule. That does not make me a Berry-ite."
In the bathroom Santana gets distracted from undressing herself, watching Brittany undress. She is smiling faintly, still in awe of just how beautiful she finds her after all those years, how lucky she was to be there with her. When Brittany held out her hand, she started to undress, then flushed, remembering.
"What if I bleed on you?"
It wasn't like they'd never showered together while on their periods before; hardly. But this would be the first time Santana tried without a tampon in.
Brittany laughed out loud at Santana's complaint about the card, shaking her head at the word choice they'd chosen. "Okay but it came from the heart!" She protested, knowing that most things Rachel and Kurt did that were offkey truly came from a good place, even if their execution wasn't always successful or if Rachel accidentally made it about herself in the process.
"Our schedule is special," Brittany insisted, because to them, it was, and they often filled it with seemly mindless things that were very important to nobody but the two of them like, after your class, I'll play with your hair, or, on the walk home, we can stop and look at the ducks or, and then when we go to sleep, you can lay on me. They both treated these plans as solid as they did their classes and always, always followed through on them.
She tilted her head back, letting the water cascade over her hair as Santana undressed, waiting for her to take her hand. When Santana spoke, Brittany opened her eyes, her hand outstretched still. She pouted at how small and doubtful Santana looked as she stood there, half undressed.
"You won't," She said surely. "You can barely even tell your period in the shower," Brittany promised. "And if you do, then it's okay." She shrugged, generally unphased by periods in general. Santana had always been more buttoned up about things like that, which Brittany had thought was funny because they'd always been so intimate from so early on in their relationship.
"Come on, don't worry about it," She said, coaxed, beckoning her with her hand.
Santana hesitated, still self-conscious at the possibility of somehow getting blood on Brittany, although admittedly, as Brittany pointed out, it does seem unlikely. Although she had volunteered as a candy striper, that had consisted mostly of filing papers, and she was actually pretty squeamish when it came to bodily fluids, even her own. She didn't know how Brittany could be so chill about blood on herself that wasn't even hers. But that was one of the many things that made her amazing, that she could shrug off things that made Santana squirm.
Finishing undressing, she took Brittany's hand, stepping with her into the tub. She shivered a little and angled so part of her body is under the warm spray, then tilted her head back to wet her hair.
"I really hate when we fight," she said softly when she moved a little to let Brittany wet her hair. "I know we aren't anymore and we said it's okay, but I still hate it. I can fight with anyone in the world but you."
Brittany smiled encouragingly at her when she took her hand, pulling her under the warm spray and flush against her body, humming happily at the warmth from Santana's body. She knew Santana was still thinking about the blood by how tight her muscles were, and she ran a hand up her bare back to calm her.
"We're in the shower, it'll wash away," She promised, her lips against Santana's forehead. She felt a familiar warmth pulse through her at being so close to Santana, pressed up against her naked body, like a flame licking the deepest parts of her body.
When she heard Santana's soft voice, her heart tugged at how small and sad the confession sounded, feeling guilty that Santana was still thinking about their argument, having forgotten just how long those kinds of things stuck to Santana.
"I know," She hushed as she tilted her head back to wet her hair again, "I know you hate it. But it doesn't bother me so much," Brittany confessed, dragging her fingertips against the lowest part of Santana's stomach as she shifted out from under the direct spray. "I mean, I don't like it either, but I know it goes away," She said, her voice steady and certain.
"I know nothing will ever come between us and I know we can't really ever stay mad at each other, so when we're fighting, I'm not scared because I know it won't really change anything, we'll still be us." Brittany said with a lilting smile. It was true, they'd argued and fought many times in high school and even after, but it never stopped them from drifting back together, curling around each other at night or peeling their Cheerios uniforms off despite having a massive argument about if they were dating or not or something of the same realm.
She stepped closer to Santana, tugging their hips together, leaning down so she could kiss her, their lips and faces slick and wet from the water. "I don't think I could fight you more than I could ever love you, so I know that even if we're yelling at each other across the kitchen," Brittany laughed against Santana's mouth, "I still love you more."
Gradually Santana's body relaxed into Brittany's as Brittany pulled her into her, and she shivered again, this time with pleasure at Brittany's body wrapped around her. She reached for Brittany's hips, pulling her a little more closely against her, and stroked her flank lightly. She heard and accepted Brittany's reassurance that any blood would wash away and nodded slightly against her lips. Her hands drifted up, the heels of her hands pressing into Brittany's shoulder blades in a light massage.
Her hands stilled as Brittany spoke back in response to her, her stomach twitching slightly at her caressing hand. She tried to listen and really hear, really believe as she knew Brittany did, that she was right, that they would always be together, would always love each other, no matter what. After their break up, Santana had felt like a huge part of herself had shriveled and died, that it was proof that she was no longer worthy of Brittany and never had been to begin with, that their ending had been inevitable. She is just beginning to believe now that her view of the break up and Brittany's reasoning for it had been wrong, that Brittany had never stopped loving and wanting her, and her fear and doubt in her own worthiness still flares when she feels something may be threatening their new and somewhat undefined state.
She knows Brittany loves her, and she knows even more so that she loves Brittany, more than she could ever love herself or anyone else. She knows Brittany had told her she wanted to be with her officially again, one day, and Santana knew she would never want to be with anyone else. She didn't know when or how Brittany would determine that "one day" had arrived, but the fact that it hadn't yet did make it that much scarier when disagreements or arguments came up. If they weren't even "really" together, what if that somehow would change Brittany's mind that she wanted it to happen some time? What if what they did have now would be reduced to less time, less touch, less everything, because Brittany thought it was too confusing or too much?
She smiled back, unable not to at the bright beauty of Brittany's smile, but she's still feeling a little anxious. Then Brittany drew her closer, kissing her, reassuring her that she could always love her more than she could fight with her, and Santana closed her eyes, giving herself over into the kiss, murmuring against her mouth.
"I'm really, really good at fighting though. I'm not that great at the loving part. But I do love you way more than I want to fight you."
Brittany hummed against Santana's cheek when she spoke, trailing her hands up Santana's sides as she spoke, cupping her face in her hands. She pulled away just enough to look at her, brushing at the water droplets that collected on Santana's cheek, noticing how they clung to her eyelashes and made them even longer and darker.
"Who told you that?" She wondered, feeling discontent roll in her stomach at Santana's words. "There's no one better at loving me than you," Brittany pointed out, not leaving room for argument.
She knew, in the early stages of their relationship, and even a little after graduation, Santana always questioned if Brittany could find someone who was better than Santana, especially after their struggles with Santana coming to terms loving Brittany openly. But for Brittany, there had never been anyone else. Every inch of Santana, her past, her relationships with her family, everything they were dealing with and every bit of who she was filled the cracks and gaps inside Brittany with glowing warmth, and she never even wanted to consider an other. There was only ever Santana.
"I don't want anybody else," She said after a few seconds, as if she wanted to stop Santana from even silently thinking the thought, dipping her head down to kiss her again, her arms sliding around her waist, their bodies slick with shower water and warmth. Every inch of her body buzzed alight, swiping her tongue along Santana's bottom lip as the shower filled with steam around them.
Santana avoided the question as Brittany spoke to her, her eyes dropping, though she didn't pull away from her cupping hands. She hadn't been told that she wasn't very good at loving by anyone exactly, but the implication had been there every time she was told she was a selfish bitch or manipulative and unfeeling. It was how she felt comfortable presenting herself with people she didn't feel comfortable with, especially in her past, and although it was how she wanted to appear, it had still hurt when people failed to see through it as the act that it was. It had eventually made her begin to wonder if the way others viewed her was simply the way she was, if she was the one who was missing something.
As Brittany reassured her that no one could love her better, that she didn't want anyone else, Santana sank into her, pressing the full length of herself into Brittany's form. She kissed her back, wet and open and hungry with need and desire. She bit lightly at Brittany's lip, sucking it between her teeth and scratching her nails down her back and up again. As her breasts flattened against Brittany's, her breathing picking up speed, Santana's body heated, a shock of arousal sparking through her.
This had only happened to her a few times since her rape; each time, of course, with Brittany. She had thought at one point she would never feel this again. But if course it was possible, with Brittany. Really it was inevitable.
Brittany moaned into Santana's mouth when she pressed her body even closer to her, their breasts pressed flush to each other along with their ribs and hips and shoulder, intoxicatingly close, yet somehow still not enough. Her nails down Brittany's back sent a trail of fire in their wake, and instantly, Brittany wanted her hands all over. It had always amazed her, how worked up they could get just from kissing, and how easily their bodies moved in response to one another's. In that particular moment, Santana's body was sleek and wet and warm against her own, and it felt like the closest thing to heaven she'd felt in a long time.
When Santana bit her lip, Brittany swiped her tongue along Santana's lip, asking for permission, her own hands pressed against Santana's back, as if she needed to fill every single gap between them. Taking a single step to the side, she turned their bodies, enough so that she could press Santana's back against the shower wall, tearing her mouth away from her to mumble, "So fucking hot," and drag her lips along Santana's jaw and down her neck, sucking lightly. She peppered Santana's neck with kisses, and it was all she could do not to roll her body into her even more.
Brittany sucked along her collarbone, one of her hands cupping the back of Santana's neck, the other pressed to the shower wall. She wanted so badly to drag her mouth lower, but she didn't dare, not wanting to push Santana passed a limit that Brittany wasn't sure existed, knowing that would effectively end their shower hook up. Kissing back up Santana's jaw, she pulled away, her forehead coming to touch Santana's, both of them panting with the arousal and force. "Are you okay?" Brittany asked, her chest heaving against Santana's.
A thrill rolled down Santana's spine at Brittany's moan. She loved having that effect on her, being able to have the ability to give her so much enjoyment. She kneaded her hands down Brittany's back, with increasing pressure and speed, then took her buttocks in her hands and squeezed, harder than before. She ground herself against her, her breath coming fast and shallow, her eyes alit, opening her mouth with wordless permission for Brittany's tongue to enter.
Santana gasped as Brittany pushed her back against the shower wall, the streaming water making their bodies slick and slippery as they slid their hands over each other. "F-fuck," she stammered as Brittany sucked at her collar bone, her eyes rolling up, long fingernails digging into Brittany's waist as she pressed harder against her, slipping one of her thighs in between Brittany's and exerting pressure upward. She is panting as much as Brittany when Brittany takes a moment to breathe, wet and throbbing at her core with her briefly thwarted arousal as Brittany checks that she's okay.
"Y-yes. Yes!"
Her entire body felt strung, tight and vibrating as their bodies slipped and pressed against each other, surprised at Santana's forwardness as she ground her hips into Brittany's, the movement sending heat straight to the center of her body. When she opened her mouth, Brittany slid her tongue along hers, feeling the wet heat of the inside of Santana's mouth, their tongues battling for dominance. She grinned as Santana gasped, not separating their mouths, exploring even deeper, as if she wanted to slide her tongue along every part of Santana.
When she'd first kissed her, she expected it to be like all their other kisses, sweet and gentle and maybe a little more than just chaste kissing, but then one of them would pull away and they'd go about their shower. Somewhere along the line, neither one of them had pulled away, winding each other higher and tighter, and now, Brittany felt a buzzy, frenetic throb throughout her body like they were a pair of teenagers. Santana's curse word only made her moan, breathy and deep against Santana's skin, feeling her nails dig into her waist in pleasure.
She didn't expect Santana to be so bold when she slid her leg between Brittany's, gasping in surprise and grinding down against her, her yelp of surprise cutting off abruptly as she gasped in pleasure at the pressure. "Holy shit," She panted, leaning her body into Santana's even more. She was grateful Santana was okay, because Brittany felt like she would explode in that moment, desperate to return the feeling to Santana, attaching their lips together frantically. She knew she was stepping into uncharted territory, even for her, but her hands were steady and sure, trusting Santana to stop her if she went to far, one of her hands coming up to brush against the underside of Santana's breast, cupping it in her hand and rubbing her thumb across her nipple, humming in pleasure when she felt it tighten under the pad of her finger instantly. Brittany pressed a final kiss into Santana's mouth before kissing lower again, this time not stopping at her shoulder, her mouth roving lower until she could close her lips around Santana's other nipple.
Santana's hips rocked upward, her thigh sliding higher up, her upper leg steadily rubbing in between Brittany's leg and pressing up against her. She breathed out several more shaky curses that she barely knows she is speaking into Brittany's mouth, her lips rough as she strokes her tongue against Brittany's. When Brittany pulls her mouth away, Santana follows, her hand moving to cup Brittany's ass to help support herself as she continued to thrust herself close into her, her other hand gripped in Brittany's hair.
When Brittany fingered her nipple, Santana sucked in a breath, feeling her pulse skip and then thrum frantically in response. She closed her eyes, feeling the pressure of her response building within herself, and when she felt Brittany's mouth move over her nipple, sucking lightly, she hissed, her body shuddering, nails digging into Brittany's skin.
She was pretty sure she had just had a mini orgasm without Brittany actually doing much more than kiss her.
A little shocked by this, as thoughts started to race through her mind and overtake the pure impulse and emotion that had briefly hijacked, she loosened her grasp of Brittany, then pulled her thigh back from in between her legs. Her legs shaky, still breathing hard, she stroked back Brittany's sodden hair from her face, effectively stopping her from continuing without telling her to.
It wasn't that she hadn't liked this or wanted this. Hell, she definitely had, enthusiastically. But it had surprised her that she could still feel this, and so quickly. And what were they doing? It was one thing to hold hands and cuddle- they had always done that. Showering, back rubs, even some kissing, that was what Brittany and Santana did. But this was the next level up, and they weren't kids in high school anymore- a lifetime had happened between the days they could hook up and then go make out with boys, and now.
Brittany wasn't ready to be her girlfriend again. So what did this make Santana to her? What were they doing now? And yet how was she supposed to ask, when that might make Brittany think they should stop?
Brittany loved the feeling of Santana's hand gripping her hair, animalistic and almost savage. She hadn't seen this Santana in so long, hot and frantic and charged and burning, reacting under Brittany's hands and her touches, hearing her gasps and grunts, the way Santana gripped her, shuddering against her. It was intoxicating, as was the leg that pushed up against Brittany's core.
She was caught off guard at how intensely Santana reacted to her mouth and her hands on her chest, feeling her entire body quake at the feeling. She moved her hands instantly to Santana's ribs, to support her if her knees buckled, which, for a second, Brittany thought they might. She could feel her nails digging into her skin, and while the sensation was too pleasuring to really hurt her, Brittany wondered if Santana would break her skin. She didn't - but the feeling around them was so crashing and overwhelming that Brittany slowed herself, focused more on steadying Santana.
As if they were speaking out loud, Santana loosened her grip on Brittany, easing her leg out from between Brittany's own. The two of them were still gasping for breath, the sounds of their panting filling the room with the steady din from the shower. She moved both her hands to Santana's waist, making sure she was steady, feeling her wobble a little in her grasp. When Santana pushed her hair back, she took a breath, straightening up, blinking into clarity, shifting them back into reality and out of their brief sexual haze.
Although Santana wasn't clutching her against her anymore, they were still body to body against the shower wall, their lungs expanding and contracting as they tried to steady each of their hearts. Her eyes fell on Santana's throat, a few spots red and one ever a little purple from Brittany's mouth, evidence of the heat of their exchange. Dragging her eyes up, she met Santana's gaze, finding her wide-eyed and stunned.
"Hey," Brittany said to get her attention, to pull her back to the present, squeezing her waist gently, this time not sexually, just comfortingly. "Are you okay?"
Santana's chest continued to heave as she worked on catching her breath and calming herself back down. Her thoughts are beginning to spiral into a loop she can't quite connect with or follow, confused and anxious and slightly scared- not of Brittany's touch or her reaction to it, but of what it might mean, or what might happen next. Or what might not- she isn't sure what was possibly worse.
She held onto Brittany loosely, still shaky, and swallowed several times, trying to force back her feelings, to shove them down where she won't have to think or deal.
When Brittany squeezed her waist her eyes snapped to her, and she slowly covered Brittany's hand with hers. She nodded, but her expression is uncertain and more vulnerable than she realizes.
"Yeah...yeah. Um, I guess we should...the water's getting kind of cold."
Brittany stayed close, her body flush to Santana's but now, in a completely different way. Still intimate, but not sexual in any way, close for comfort. Both of their breaths were ragged and deep, pulling the steamy, wet air into their lungs. "Hey, it's okay," Brittany said softly, her lips against Santana's temple. She could feel herself evening out, knowing that she was calming down faster than Santana was, who still felt shaky in her arms, her heart still racing, Brittany could feel, while Brittany's own was leveling out.
Although Santana had assured her she was okay, she still felt guilty, like she shouldn't have taken them that far or should've been the one to back off faster, knowing this territory with Santana was new and untouched, that she hadn't done anything sexual since long before the assault. She held her gaze evenly, glad that Santana had looked up to her so quickly, seeing how dark and scared and young her eyes seemed in that moment. Delicately, she stroked Santana's ribs with her thumb, wanting to bring her down slowly, guiding her back towards calm.
"I guess you're right," Brittany smiled against Santana's skin, reveling in the warmth for a moment before peeling her body off of her, reaching to make the water a little warmer before she picked up the shampoo bottle, still eyeing Santana a little warily, checking to make sure she really was okay after their hot and heavy make out that had almost tipped the line to becoming something much more.
She was still reeling that Santana had been so bold, so forward with her. She'd loved it, of course, always encouraging moments of dominance from Santana since Brittany had been the one leading the way for so long, but especially after everything, it was unexpected in the best way. Still, she knew how overwhelmed Santana had to have been, squeezing some shampoo into her hand and then turning Santana slowly by the shoulder so she could start massaging it into her hair.
As Brittany kissed her forehead, stroking her side, Santana began to calm slowly. She didn't want Brittany to pull away, wishing for her to keep close to reassure her that even if what they just did was a change, things were still okay, that Brittany was okay with what had happened. She needed to know that Brittany didn't regret it or wish to undo it. But she can't figure out how to say that without sounding far too vulnerable and being far too open to hurt if Brittany gave a response she didn't want to hear.
When Brittany pulls away, Santana feels her watching her, even when she turned her so Santana's back was to her, beginning to wash her hair. Santana held still, trying to convince herself as well as Brittany that she truly was okay, that it wouldn't hurt if Brittany never kissed her or touched her like that again. Her hair is almost entirely rinsed clean before she finds her voice again, her legs finally steady.
"I know it's okay. I'm not scared of you."
And she isn't, never. Not of Brittany- just the possibility of what Brittany may not want for them.
