Title: Some Things Are Meant To Be [Part Seven]
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 6.2k

Notes: It's a short one, but I felt mean for ending the last two situations with cliffhangers so I didn't want you guys to wait too long. Thank you for all your feedback on this, and I hope you enjoy ;)

/

She wishes she wasn't stuck in this situation.

She wishes it were an accident and could blame anyone, or anything, but herself or Brittany. But she can't.

So instead she pays attention, and takes in a deep, shaky breath as she feels Brittany's hands, cold against her cheeks, holding her there. The breath against her face is warm, and it's a complete contradiction to the touch but it just feels so damn good. Too damn good, and this is dangerous territory, something that could be fatal but yet she stays still and just waits like that's not going to contribute even more.

Because even she knows she should be pulling away. Brittany does too, she's pretty sure even the freaking neighbor and half of Manhattan know she should be pulling away, but she's not. She should be taking a step back, moving away from her best friend and maybe even laughing it off, saying that the song's a good idea for the wedding or whatever. She should say it's a good first dance song and that it fits right because some things are meant to be, like Brittany and Jason, and yet she's routed to this spot, wondering how the hell she got here.

But maybe she does know how she got here.

Maybe, without conscious thought, she meant to get to this moment because ever since Brittany's hen party, she hasn't been able to get those pink lips and the memory of them pushed against hers, out her head. Maybe she wanted to get here, despite all the outstanding factors saying she shouldn't. Maybe she wants the drama, in a fucked up, twisted sort of way.

Because maybe, just maybe, she wants to complicate things and just can't resist it.

No.

Fuck, no, she can resist. She doesn't have to give in and she doesn't want a complicated situation. Not again. She can't get herself into this mess when she's always been the one chasing Brittany and Brittany hasn't done anything to chase her back. She can't always be the one hurting and the one sacrificing when Brittany's not doing anything in return. It's stupid, and she's not a fool. She's never been a fool for anyone and she sure as hell won't be a fool for Brittany.

Although as Brittany shifts just that little bit, her lips grazing Santana's nose, she realizes that okay, maybe she's already a fool for her.

Because she's still standing here. She's still clinging on to the last glimmer of hope that maybe Brittany doesn't want to marry Jason. She's still desperately wishing Brittany would just drop the boy and be with her. She's still wanting to tip her head up and press their lips together. She's still fucking wants her, and it's pathetic. It's so dumb she feels like a bag of wet hair, and she knows there's a tiny part of her mind telling her to just look away, to duck her head even more because if she tries to look into blue eyes, that'll be her downfall. That'll be the last thing she needs to break all the barriers, and she knows she can't.

There's quite literally living proof of why she shouldn't, and she knows if she gives in, for days, weeks―hell, even months to come―she'll blame herself and it'll be her fault.

But wait―

Brittany's the one―

Now she thinks about it, she's not the one holding on and keeping them here. Now she thinks about it, she's not the one grasping cheeks, holding them and quivering as they attempt to urge the face between them up. Now she thinks about it, she's not the one instigating this situation which is most probably going to end up in a kiss that shouldn't happen.

Doesn't mean she can't put a stop to it, though.

"Britt," she croaks out, her voice sounding more different from anything she's known before. "Brittany."

She swallows hard and waits, but the blonde doesn't move, and it's just too much. It's just too much emotionally and physically and it's causing too much blood to rush to her head and making her not be able to think straight. She wishes in some ways they were drunk and had something to blame it on, because she can feel it deep within her bones, in the corners of her mind, that it's going to happen. She's desperately trying to fight it but Brittany's just so close and it's been so long since Santana's kissed her that it's proving difficult, to say the least.

Shit.

"You don't wanna do this," she says, like she's trying to fight this despite her hands moving down to Brittany's hips, her hands slipping beneath the light cotton shirt donning Brittany's torso. Her fingertips span across smooth skin, brushing over the goosebumps forming beneath her touch and she hates it, but it's just so damn addictive. Especially because as she repeats the words, she has a hard time figuring out whether she's talking to Brittany, or herself.

But she doesn't have time to work it out.

"I don't wanna think about it," comes through the lips hovering so damn close to hers.

And Santana takes a few seconds to register it before the hands on her face are tipping her face and there are lips pressing down against hers gently, just once. The alarm bell blasting inside her brain goes dead, the questioning of whether she just went deaf passes through her mind, but her entire body feels more alive than it has in years. Though at the same time, it makes her feel numb, because this isn't okay. Brittany can't just agree to marry someone else, admit she's jealous then plead with Santana to kiss her. It's not fair, not to anyone in this situation, even that waste of space fiancée of Brittany's.

But it feels like it gives her permission. It feels like it's okay, for some reason she'll never know, and she knows in this world and probably many others it's not right, it's not okay, but it gives her a confidence she didn't have before. It breaks something within her and even though Brittany hesitates, hovers, and pulls back that little bit to look into brown eyes, to check if what she did was just bad, or straight up shitty, Santana ignores it.

Because it's ridiculous.

She's never been hesitant about what she wants ever. She's never really thought anything through with length or depth, especially when it comes to Brittany and so she acts on impulse, tugging Brittany's hips against hers and bringing their mouths back together. Brittany's hands flex against her cheeks, gripping a little harder but Santana ignores it, instead kissing with as much passion as possible. Her lips part when Brittany's tongue traces them and she moans, unable to fight the fizz and spark that sweeps through her body when Brittany's tongue slides past her teeth and flicks against the roof of her mouth.

It's nothing like she's known before. There's never been this much intensity in a kiss she's shared with anyone else and she knows it's because it's full of lust, want and mostly, because it's with Brittany. They've never had a relationship that's followed standard guidelines of friends. Santana's never been this close to anyone else, not in such a short amount of time anyway, and it brings her back to that night all those years ago where they first met. It takes her back and it makes her smile into the kiss because that's where they first shared one. That's where they first felt this; the connection.

Her thoughts are interrupted when Brittany's arm wind around her neck, hands gliding through her hair and tangling roughly and she can't help herself when she pushes forward, kissing her harder. All hesitation has shot out the window and she backs up harder until they find a space on the wall by the fireplace, a strangled grunt coming from both of them at the accidental force of the collision. But they don't focus on that for long, losing themselves in the kiss again and the way Brittany's body rolls against the wall and up into Santana's.

It causes this fire to spark within her, and she feels the heat prickle up her spine and on to her face, surprisingly affecting her emotions more than she thought until she's aware she's about to cry. Because Brittany tastes exactly the same as she did all those years ago. She tastes like promises, unspoken feelings, want and confusion. She tastes like all the things they are, all the things drifting between them and Santana almost begins hating herself for kissing her and finding out because now she knows.

Now she knows this isn't anything normal. Now she knows that Brittany knows why she was jealous. Now she knows that she's not alone in this.

And even as her hands travel down Brittany's back until they grasp her ass, their hips grinding into each other again, she thinks back to how all of this between them, began. How they got from that ice rink, to living together, and it comes back as such a rush that it damn near causes her to fall over.

/

It was a few months after the ice rink when it happened, and Santana and Brittany had stayed friends.

She didn't know how, but she just knew there was this pull between them and it kept them together in a platonic way. They texted like they'd been friends for a while, called each other every night no matter what and stayed on the phone for hours like they were two little old women, and despite the awkwardness of knowing there was something between them, they fell into this rhythm of just being best friends. Even without the build-up of years to solidify that friendship.

But anyway, it was six months after they met when Santana was lounging about in her too-large apartment, sweatpants and baggy sweatshirt on, watching another episode of that television show with those four nerds and their love of science. It was a day off where she didn't have to study, didn't have a shift down at the bar and she was taking full advantage of it. Which meant the laziest of all days including her glasses, a pint of ice cream and shitty television.

It was great.

Around eleven o'clock in the evening, she decided she was getting a little tired of doing absolutely nothing when she heard a knock at the door. At first she thought it was her crazy neighbor who lives downstairs and thought she was a descendent of Lucifer, trying to make her more 'heavenly' by spraying her with holy water, but then she heard a sob and her body shot up right, eyes wide beneath her glasses.

She'd only known Brittany for a few short months, but she knew that girl inside and out already and by the time her thoughts processed, she was already at her door, yanking it open to find Brittany there, with tears streaming down her face and a bag slung loosely over her shoulder. Her heart ached at the image, and they didn't even bother exchanging words before Brittany was collapsing in Santana's arms and sobbing heavily, soaking her sweatshirt with hot tears.

"Britt," Santana cooed, stroking her hand over blonde hair. She pulled the girl into the apartment and kicked the door shut, breathing in the scent of smoke wafting up from Brittany's skin. It made her nose crinkle, because it wasn't the type of smoke she was used to smelling after popping out on the fire escape for a quick puff, it was the worst kind and it made her heart thrum impossibly fast.

"What happened?" She asked, moving them to the sofa and taking a seat. She meant for Brittany to slide in beside her, but the second her butt reached the couch, the blonde was taking a seat in Santana's lap sideways, and wrapping her arms around a tanned neck, pulling close. It was a little too intimate considering their situation, but a part of Santana wished and hoped Brittany was crying because she'd broken up with that douche bag she called her boyfriend. Maybe it meant a chance for them.

"M―my apartment," Brittany sobbed, tears coating Santana's skin and collar of her sweatshirt. She tried not to feel a little disappointed at the knowledge that Brittany and Jason were together, but she couldn't help it. Still, she made sure to focus on the current situation. Her and Brittany were just trying to be friends, they'd agreed on it. "It―It―"

The blonde burst into tears again, her sentence unable to come out through the intense sobs and Santana wished she could make it better. She didn't even know what the hell had happened but it just hurt so damn much to see the girl like this. She would've done anything to make sure nothing ever hurt Brittany or made her cry. No matter what it was.

Dropping a kiss to her forehead, Santana rocked them slightly, holding her best friend as tightly as possible. "It's okay, Britt Britt," she hushed into her ear, closing her eyes and fighting her own tears. "I'm here. I'm here."

After a long few moments, and after a lot of tears, the sobs slowed down and Santana stayed silent. She didn't know what to say, didn't know what to do but she did know she should probably be giving Brittany some time and space. She knew that's what other people did in this situation so she followed suit. Only because she never really had any prior experience of comforting people. Usually she didn't get close enough to be the one to comfort them and so that was a whole new experience for her.

She took in a deep breath when Brittany pulled back, revealing her red-rimmed eyes and blotched cheeks. Her blue eyes were dark with sadness and it made Santana's chest ache, yet she just brushed her fingers over Brittany's brow, pushing back the lock of golden hair that had fallen across her face; and she kind of hated herself for it as the moment her fingertips touched the girl, there was a sparkle that appeared only for Santana.

Damn. It was difficult.

"What's going on, Britt Britt?" She whispered, sucking her lips into her mouth and narrowing her eyes. She'd seen her best friend cry, but not this much.

The blonde leaned into her a little, her hands coming up to wipe at a tanned neck. "I don't have anywhere to live," she finally said and Santana jerked her head back, causing blue eyes to meet her brown ones.

"What?" She shook her head, making sure she heard it right. "What happened to your apartment?"

A pink lip trembled as Brittany thought for a few seconds. "I got into another fight with Jason," she started and Santana resisted the urge to show any type of reaction. It wasn't like it was a secret at that time that Santana didn't like the guy, but Brittany could read every emotion that flashed over Santana's face so she had to suppress it. She didn't want to get into another argument with Brittany over him. Seemed she'd been through enough of it at that night. "My landlord overheard us and said we were too disruptive to the other people in the building," she continued and a few tears fell down pale cheeks, so Santana wiped them away with the back of her hand, still holding back the urge to grind her teeth. "And said I had to move out by the end of the night because it was the last straw."

She began crying all over again and Santana couldn't do anything but stare. She knew how much of an asshole Jason was, but to yell at Brittany enough―because Brittany most definitely couldn't yell back at him that much―to get her kicked out the damn building, that was just fucking terrible. He was just such a jackass and Santana had always wanted to smash his front teeth in since she met him at a bar one time with Brittany, but she'd always held back. She'd always been civil toward him because of Brittany. However when she heard that news, it was hard not to leave the apartment, find him and shove her foot straight up his ass.

God. He was just such a dick.

"I just don't know what to do," Brittany shook her head as more tears poured from her eyes. "I don't know where to go or what to do and when I left the building all I could think about was you," she said so casually like it wasn't going to make Santana's eyes damn near bulge from her head. "I just had to come here and see you," she glanced toward her and shrugged her shoulders, wiping at the corners of her eyes.

"You can stay here," came out from Santana's mouth before she even knew it. She hadn't thought it through, nor had she thought about the consequences of her actions but she'd just said it. Plus, a little part of her did mean it. She wanted Brittany to stay there with her, but just not while she was with Jason. That was totally not the point though.

Brittany jerked her head back, apparently shocked by the suggestion but there was a warmth in her face that answered before she did. "Really?" She asked.

A little stunned, even by her own question, Santana nodded. "Of course, Britt," she tried to play it off cool, but she knew whatever Brittany wanted of her, she would give it. She was whipped for someone she wasn't even romantically involved in. So pathetic. "I mean, you're my best friend," she shrugged. "You know I'd do anything for you."

There was a deeper meaning to her words, and judging by the slight falter in Brittany's smile, she knew that too. But Santana just looked away and shook her head, deciding that now was the time to get up and get away from Brittany, so she slowly nudged her friend until the girl climbed off her lap and she rose to her feet, rubbing the back of her neck. That was a little awkward.

"So, yeah," she feigned a cough and glanced over her shoulder at her friend. "I've got a spare room, so I'll go make that up for you."

"I don't mind sleeping on the couch," Brittany said, her eyes boring into Santana's like she was a puppy. She just looked so small on that sofa, so vulnerable and Santana hated that the urge to say fuck the room and sleep on the sofa beside Brittany, despite the two perfectly good beds in the apartment, because she just wanted to look after her. She was just so drawn to the girl and it was supposed to get better once she found out Brittany wasn't single, but it only increased. It was like being told she couldn't have something; she just wanted it more.

"No, it's cool," she said as she shrugged and rounded the sofa, stepping into the hallway. She turned to find Brittany peering over the back of the couch, her chin resting on her hands, eyes glossy and grateful, and she couldn't resist as she walked back over to her and dropped to her knees, pushing the same piece of hair back. "I want you to be as comfortable as possible."

Brittany smiled a soft smile that wormed its way into Santana's chest, closing around her heart and squeezing. It was one of those smiles that captured her, just like she'd been captured at the ice rink all those months ago, and it made her buzz electric. She felt like she was on top of the world when Brittany smiled at her like that, but it also made her crash back down to Earth when she remembered there was someone else that was on the receiving end of that smile, too.

Still, she exhaled slowly and offered a half-smile, pressing a kiss to Brittany's forehead as she got up again. "I'll go get your room ready," she said, disappearing off down the hall.

She completely missed the way Brittany's face lit up at the feel of lips against her skin.

/

Santana begins shaking at the memory, trying to find a reason why that would've happened if they weren't meant to be here, right now. She tries but fails and the feels of Brittany's lips trembling against her own brings her back to the current situation; how they're pressed up against a wall, their hands roaming and lips sloppy but passionate against each other.

It makes her head dizzy and senses fade and before she knows it, her hand's slipping beneath the cotton of Brittany's t-shirt and scraping against hot yet soft skin that quivers beneath her touch.

"Santana," Brittany pants against her mouth, breath hot and heavy and Santana's knees tremble at the aroused tone. Her head dips and she begins pressing rough kisses up and down the length of a pale throat, nipping and sucking lightly. Heat prickles at her eyelids and she can feel she's about to cry but she's desperately fighting it, instead wanting nothing more than to indulge in this moment.

But there's always been this sexual urge between them, this sexual need, and Santana knows it's coming out right at this moment. She can feel it in the spark between them, in the way their touching and the way Brittany's throwing her head back and how her hips are twitching rapidly. She can hear it in the hushed curse words pouring from her lips and feel it in the nails scratching gently at her skin.

It's a need that started when they met, but evolved months after, and it's something she knows can't be avoided.

/

It had been three and a half months since Brittany moved in.

Somehow it went from Brittany staying there for a few days to Brittany staying there indefinitely and the worst part was, Santana didn't have a problem with it. They'd never really talked about how long, and it only made sense that if she had a spare bedroom―her grandparents may have been assholes, but they were rich and left money to her which bought her a too-large apartment―then it made sense. Why wouldn't Brittany live there and pay a little bit of rent each month? It wasn't like Santana actually paid rent, she bought it out right and seemed fair enough.

(She'd actually told Brittany not to give her rent, it wasn't like she needed it, but Brittany always got her way.)

Anyway, it had been three and half months before it happened.

Santana was at home on a day off, just having finished a four-hour study session. Her neck ached, her wrist did, too, from all the writing and a good, hot bath would take away some of the stress. She headed into the bathroom, stripped herself and ran the bath, and it was only when she was staring at herself in the mirror, hair tied up, that she realized she'd left her book in her bedroom, and so she headed out.

Luckily, Brittany wasn't home and wouldn't be for a few hours, so Santana took advantage of that and waltzed around the apartment naked. It was something she missed, which was strange because she never realized she did it until Brittany moved in. Alas, she did, and so she loved it on the rarity when Brittany was out the apartment and she was alone, and used it to its full potential.

Admittedly, she supposed there was better things she could be doing with an empty apartment on a Friday night, other than taking a long bath and getting a relatively early night. She could've been out on the town, seducing a blonde girl with blue eyes and bringing her back, fucking her brains out and pretending she was someone else, someone in the same apartment, like she'd done a few months back, but it lost its appeal. Especially after one night of bringing a girl back, Brittany walked in with Jason trailing behind, found them making out on the sofa, and looked like someone had kicked her in the stomach as she stormed off to bed.

That hadn't been great, and Santana, from there on, decided to go back to the girls apartment. It was always easier.

But that night she just wasn't feeling it, so she headed into her bedroom, letting herself free and whatnot and picked up her book. As she was there, she decided to make a quick detour and grab her iPod dock, her iPod too, before heading back to the bathroom. She was too busy humming to a song she'd already picked to play first to realize the dock was still plugged in and charging, so as she stepped out into the hallway, she was tugged back harshly and groaned at the pain of the wire whipping her on the back of the thigh.

Had she noticed that earlier, she wouldn't have bent down to unplug the charger from the wall, and had she not done that, she would've realized that at the same time, Brittany had walked into the apartment after coming home from work early. Had she not delayed herself just that little amount of time, she would've got into the bathroom and shut the door before Brittany decided to come to the bedroom to check on Santana.

But she didn't, and so as she unplugged the charger and turned around, Brittany came straight into the bedroom, already talking because she was definitely not expecting to see what she did.

"Do you want any dinn―OH!"

It happened so fast Santana didn't really know what to do. Brittany's eyes bulged from her head, so wide they might've just popped out her head like a damn cartoon and they zoned in on Santana's crotch straight after lingering a little too long on the swell of her chest, spotting something she didn't know was there. Santana gasped, immediately juggling the objects about in her hand and she managed to drop the book to cover her... appendage, before Brittany could get a better look at it.

Admittedly, it wasn't the way she wanted Brittany to find out, but she guessed it was going to happen at some point considering they were living together. She was hoping maybe to tell her instead of like, spring it on her like that, but it had been done and Santana didn't really know how to approach the subject, so she just offered a half-concerned smile and tried to make a joke of it.

"Surprise," she managed to get out weakly, throwing her arm over her chest when she realized she'd covered down there, but not over her boobs.

Brittany just gawped, her eyes darting between Santana's crotch and face, but there wasn't any disgust present in her expression and Santana cocked her head to the side. "San," the girl breathed, stepping further into the room.

Santana shifted, a little uncomfortable with the situation but not due to the sudden reveal of her extra body part. She took in a deep breath and offered another half-smile, trying to convey with her eyes that she'd prefer to have the conversation when was dressed, and Brittany picked up on it immediately, jumping and spinning around in circles a few times before exiting the room promptly, slamming the door behind her.

"Sorry!" She yelled through the wood. "Get dressed and we can talk!"

Santana just shook her head and got dressed quickly, worrying about what was to come.

/

Brittany was sitting at the kitchen island when Santana came out. She took her time to put on some sweatpants and a tank top, before heading into the bathroom to flick off the tap for the bath, knowing that this conversation probably wouldn't be a short one. Worry pulsed through her as she tried to think of what Brittany was going to say, or how she was going to react.

Shit.

What if she was too freaked and wanted to move out?

What if they'd just got close and Santana ruined it by not telling her?

Fuck.

She didn't know what was going to happen.

Luckily though, she obviously didn't realize how wonderful Brittany was, and so as she gingerly perched on one of the stools, fear slicing through her body and her hands shaking, she was shitting it. She had no idea how her best friend would react, and so she decided that it was best for Brittany to talk first, to give her opinion or yell or say she was moving out.

Santana hadn't ever had anyone find out like that before. She didn't know what would happen.

"Is it real?" Was the first thing Brittany asked, lifting her head and looking Santana straight in the eye. There was no anger or fear present in her face, and Santana grew a little curious.

Still, she answered by bobbing her head slowly. "Yeah," she breathed, her voice dripping with anxiety. "It's real."

Something she wasn't quite expecting flashed across Brittany's eyes, something that Santana thought to be... arousal?

"Were you like... born with it?" The blonde continued to ponder, biting down on her bottom lip. "Or did you get it―"

"No," Santana cut in, shaking her head. "I was born with it." She cleared her throat and looked around the room, thinking how absurd it would be for Brittany to get turned on by this. She obviously knew some chicks were okay with it, she wasn't a virgin, but she always thought Brittany wouldn't have been into that. Even if they had kissed. "It works just like a guys one and... stuff."

Once again, that thing flashed across Brittany's expression and Santana eyed her curiously. She watched the way Brittany's chest was moving just that little bit quicker, the way she was licking her lips and how she was darting her vision down there every now and then, and suddenly it brought Santana to the conclusion that the girl was... intrigued. A little more than intrigued, actually; she was interested.

It made her feel a hell of a lot better than before, and she found herself straightening her back and smirking. Brittany was interested.

"Is that okay?" She half-purred, leaning forward and looking through her lashes.

Brittany jumped a little, her eyes dark and hooded and she nodded jerkily. "Yeah," she said through an exhale, licking her lips for the third time in this conversation. Her mouth was apparently a little dry. "It's more than okay with me."

The air around them got a little hotter, the tension increased a little and Santana realized that they were slowly leaning in toward each other. It was like a spark, like that thing from the first night was coming back and she gulped heavily when she felt Brittany's breath on her mouth. But it was also like a smack in the face because it made her reel back instantly, made her realize the situation, how Brittany had a boyfriend and how they were supposed to be just best friends.

And it sucked, it really did, but by the time she'd pulled back, Brittany had, too, and they were staring at each other with lust-filled eyes, realization sinking in.

"Bad idea," she said out loud, needing some type of water or liquid. Her throat was a dry as a damn desert.

Brittany nodded, but her hands clenched between her thighs. "Yeah," she agreed, clenching her jaw. "It would be a... bad idea."

Santana couldn't help herself when her eyes trailed over the girls legs. For the first time that night she realized the lack of clothing on the girl and eyed up the lines and muscles in Brittany's legs. It wasn't like she didn't know how hot her best friend was, but she'd spent many months trying not to focus on that, that now she was here, now she was staring like Brittany had been staring at her before, she couldn't help herself.

She knew how she was looking at Brittany, what effect it might had, but she just didn't care.

"Because we're friends," she tried to elaborate, like the words would stop this heat between them. Would stop this urge that they both obviously craved for. "And you have a boyfriend."

Brittany swallowed heavily, her eyes never straying from Santana's. "Yeah," she agreed. "I have a... a boyfriend," she continued.

They just sat there and stared at each other, knowing what they both wanted, and it was only when one of their phones went off that they were brought back to reality. Because they both knew, no matter how much they wanted it, how many images and thoughts and dreams they had, as long as Brittany was with Jason, and as long as they were both just trying to be friends, it could never happen.

But it didn't stop the sexual tension.

It never would.

/

Hands grab at her face again, pulling her up and Brittany tips their foreheads together, noses touching and breaths mingling. Their eyes lock and it's intense and hot and all Santana wants to do is forget about everything for one night, but just as she thinks the same, just as she sees the want mirrored in blue eyes, there's a noise in the background that causes both of them to freeze.

It's like a bucket of ice-cold water poured over both of them and Santana registers the sound before Brittany does, because she recognizes it to be a key sliding into the lock of the door. And she knows from an argument with Brittany, just who that could be because she really didn't want him to have a key to the apartment. Which now, apparently, is one of those moments where she'd wished he hadn't got a hold of one of those keys. Not the moment, but a told you so would be incredibly appropriate.

They spring apart, eyes wide and lips swollen and Brittany reaches up to touch hers, her eyes speaking a million words that her mouth can't. Santana just stands there, shock evident in her expression and a strange buzzing thrumming through her body as Jason walks into the living room, not even acknowledging her and kissing Brittany on the cheek before he throws himself down on the sofa, completely oblivious to the atmosphere around them.

Her stomach drops into her stomach and she feels a little frozen, a little numb, but she can't even do anything because Jason's right there and doesn't know what just happened between them.

So she does the only thing she can do, the only thing she can think of doing and grabs her coat, ignores the blue eyes boring a hole into the back of her head and slips her shoes on, not even bothering to grab her phone before she's out the apartment and running away from it all without another word, only stopping four streets down when she ducks into an alley to sink down against the wall and drop her head into her hands.

What the fuck just happened.

/

So... Whats up? :D

Feel free to leave a review if you think it deserved it.