Title: Some Things Are Meant To Be [Part Eleven]
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 6k

Notes: I know how long it's been... and I wish I'd gotten around to it sooner because turns out I do really like writing when I remember how to do it! Still, thank you for all your reviews on previous chapters, all the messages and what not, and please continue to be lovely and patient as you have been as my life hasn't gotten any easier or slower! Apparently that's what being an adult is about. Boo :( - Anyway, enjoy this chapter as the story is slowly coming to its conclusion and feel free to leave a review if you deem it decent/shitty enough!

/

They lay side by side after moving to the bedroom, staring into each others eyes.

It's hard to think that before tonight, Santana didn't know what this was like. Sure, she'd slept next to her best friend before, but she hadn't known what it was like to hold her, to care for her so intimately, to make love to her. She hadn't known what it was like to pant heavily into her mouth as they raced towards their climaxes. She hadn't known what it was like to feel her, to have her all around her, on her, in her heart, under her skin. She hadn't known what it was like to clutch her close, hold her against her and fall into a completely unknown bliss filled place.

She hadn't known how to really love her.

And now, on her side, her hand tracing over Brittany's features, over her brows, down her nose, around her lips, she doesn't know how she went without.

Brittany shifts in her spot, wetting her lips and brushing her foot up a smooth, tanned leg and blue eyes flicker all over Santana's face, almost like she's trying to memorize every curve, every freckle, every piece of it. The part that gets Santana though, is what the simple look shows. Those blue eyes speak volumes that no words could do justice, and after a few moments, she breathes out softly and reaches for the hand on her face, gently cradling it, and Santana just falls a little bit more in love with the girl.

"Hi," she whispers, bringing Santana's palm down to her lips to press a kiss to the center of it.

Santana's lips twitch at the side into a small smile and remembers to breathe. "Hey," she replies through an equally soft hush, ignoring the ache in her hand when Brittany places it between them on the bed.

As always, the blonde senses her pain, knows her emotion almost before she knows it herself and glances at her hand, moving her own hand on top to trace her fingers over the slight swelling. "What happened to your hand?" She questions, peering up through her lashes.

The memory of the strip club comes back to her in a flurry, causing her body to freeze and breath hitch and shit. Jason.

Santana had almost forgotten, and just like that, the unknown bliss filled place becomes a far away destination.

Because there was a freaking reason she came home tonight; she was going to tell Brittany about Jason. But now she can't. Now, after they just made love, connected, clicked and fulfilled everything she's ever wanted, she can't suddenly bring up Brittany's damn fiancee and tell her he's most probably been cheating on her with some cheap ass hooker. It's going to make her look like the reason they had sex was because of Jason and the hooker.

And it wasn't. It really wasn't. It had been a long time coming and okay, the evening may have started off with arguments and anger, it quickly changed because it was just the tension between them, growing until it burst through the barriers, contained no more.

But the point is she should tell her, even if it means running the risk ofruining—No.

She can't. No, scratch that, she won't.

The thought of losing Brittany, of having Brittany walk out this apartment makes this lump form in her throat and stomach bottom out, and she swallows against it hard because she just can't. She can't bring that up. It'll ruin everything. It'll break this moment. It'll ruin the night and she doesn't want to think back to the first time her and Brittany slept together and associate it with Brittany finding out just how much of an asshole Jason is.

So, despite the intense tugging in the bottom of her stomach and the voice screaming at her in the back of her mind to tell her best friend the truth, she just puts on a weak smile, knowing it's not reaching her eyes (and thanking the Lord that it's dark so Brittany can't really see her) and shakes her head, swallowing thickly against the lie that's about to come out.

"I smacked it against a table pretty hard," she wets her lips, the lie scratching at her throat. Gingerly, her eyes flicker up to meet the bright blue beaming through the darkness, curiously gazing at her. Shit. Maybe Brittany can see. "I'm clumsy, I guess," she chuckles, dryly.

Thumbing over her sore knuckles, the blonde stays quiet; just the sound of her steady breathing filling the air and for a second—for a split second—Santana panics. She feels the truth bubble in her throat, feels the acidic taste seep on to the tip of her tongue and it almost comes out. The words balance right there and they almost spill but then—

"You're silly," Brittany giggles and leans forward, her lips pressing gently against Santana's.

It shocks her, but she manages to kick start her brain back into gear and kisses back softly before they both settle down, lips parting, bodies gravitating toward the center of the bed, arms wrapping around each other and long, pale fingers curling around a tanned bicep. She takes a deep breath when Brittany nuzzles into her, and it feels like she should say something. It feels like she needs to tell the truth because they've just slept together, they've just changed the course of their relationship but she knows she shouldn't because at the same time, nothing has changed really.

Brittany's still getting married. Santana's still madly in love with the girl. They're still in this weird limbo, although now it's even more fucked up then it was before due to tonight.

So she can't, because even though everything has changed, at the same time, nothing has.

Biting her tongue, she swallows every word fighting to burst free and instead lets herself revel in this moment. Lets herself drown in the feeling of being close to Brittany, of being able to count the freckles across the bridge of her nose and of being able to just be with her, without anything complications. All thoughts of fiancees, and weddings that are a hairsbreadth away, just seep from her mind and slowly, she lets the sleep pull her eyelids shut and dreams cloud her mind.

/

The morning comes and her body aches, but in the best way possible. Her lips are swollen but still taste of Brittany, the sheets are warm but still smell like the blonde too, and she yawns as her arms reach above her head and her bones pop back into place, last night flitting back to her in an instant.

She can't believe it happened.

Like, it actually fucking happened, and God, just thinking about it makes her smile.

Though the moment is scarce because the more she thinks, the more she becomes increasingly aware that by now Brittany should've reached over to pull her close, or kiss her neck, or at least call her name, yet nothing's happened. And her worst fears are confirmed too when she glances down the bed to find nothing, and then around the room to find the same result.

Her vision begins to blur, her breaths begin to shorten and she's just about to reach for her phone to either call an ambulance for the heart attack she's about to have or to just call Brittany and not be completely over dramatic, when she hears noises coming from outside the door. Her ears prick up, eyes narrowing and as she calms her heavy panting, she begins to make out the sound of what she thinks is... Shania Twain?

Curiosity gets the better of her, and in a split second she's hopping out of bed, grabbing the nearest clothes she can find and wanders out into the apartment. Her fingers are smoothing out the bed head look she's rocking as she gets to the kitchen, and ice cold relief flows through her veins when she sees Brittany there, dancing around the kitchen wearing Santana's Laker's jersey and not much else.

It's almost embarrassing how easily this girl turns her on, and Santana forces herself to swallow the lump forming in her throat and forget the heat flushing across her body because they need to have the first talk since they broke out the bubble they were in last night. It's not like a one night stand, so she doesn't need to get the girl out the door, which she thinks may be stranger because she just wants Brittany to stay here forever. She just wants to keep her here in this apartment forever and forget about everything in the outside world. Everything that will inevitably destroy them.

But she can't, so they've got to talk this out. Starting with a greeting would be good, possibly.

"Um, hey," she utters, wetting her lips. Shit. Shouldn't have done that. They still taste of Brittany.

Blue eyes flash to her in an instant, brightening up and she bounces over to Santana, stopping inches in front of her, her hands going to the hem of Santana's gray t-shirt. "Hey," she whispers, a smile pulling at her face.

And Santana forgets how to breathe. All oxygen seems to disappear from her lungs and she just ends up looking like a total idiot as she gazes at the blonde dreamily, not even caring that the possibility of suffering could be an issue here. But her mind reels with ideas and possibilities that come from the staring and soon enough she's thinking about whether or not she'll be overstepping the line if she just kisses the girl, just to feel her heart soar and chest flutter.

Though it seems Brittany notices the hesitation, notices the slight indecision in brown eyes because she inches toward her, her hand reaching to her jaw and tips her chin up, lowering her face until their lips are brushing. It's soft, it's gentle, and Santana swears she damn near dies when they pull away. Or actually, she damn near dies inside and almost dies on the outside when she tries to follow and stumbles, luckily catching herself on the blonde and not on the corner of the coffee table.

"Shit," she curses beneath her breath, blood rushing to her face. How embarrassing.

Brittany just giggles and helps her stand up again, her face the same distance as it was before. "You're such a goofball," she murmurs and plants one last kiss on Santana's lips before spinning away, apparently going to back to the eggs and bacon she was cooking before. She throws a look over her shoulder and flutters her eyelashes a little, grinning to herself and Santana's head tilts to the side in confusion, which is swiftly cleared up when the other girl speaks. "Can you get to the table without tripping so I can serve you breakfast?"

Once again, the blood rushes to her face, but Santana just scratches the back of her neck to try and hide it and nods sheepishly. "Yeah," she tells her and shuffles over, using an extreme amount of concentration to not trip, even though it would make Brittany laugh and well, that'd probably just make her day. "What's the occasion?"

The blonde spins around and arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "You really have to ask?"

"Oh," Santana bites her lip, almost embarrassed. "Well, I was kinda hoping we could..." Her breath catches in her throat, and she tries to swallow but ends up coughing lightly instead. Damn. There goes her cool. Not that she had much to grasp on to anyway. "That we could, erm... You know, like... Talk about last night."

It comes out a little faster than intended. Like, in one swift word instead of words in a sentence, and she restrains the urge to smack herself in her face because damn, she was supposed to be playing this cool. Nonchalant and what not. Instead she just looks panicky, and slightly desperate, perhaps.

Sliding on to the stool beside her, Brittany takes in a deep breath and turns to look into brown eyes, a pale hand sliding over to cover a tanned one. "I know we do," she sighs and there's something Santana doesn't recognize in her eyes, yet she says no more. She just sits there, looking like a Greek Goddess with wavy blonde hair and smooth, soft skin.

Though it gets them nowhere, so Santana decides to take the reigns. "You're getting married in less than a week," she starts, stating the obvious.

"I know," Brittany acknowledges, nodding her head slightly, her lips sucking into her mouth. There's uncertainty in her expression, and Santana's heart thuds unevenly against her chest because she doesn't know what's happening. The blonde isn't saying anything more and instead just agreeing, and it's not like Santana's the ideal example of talking about feelings and complications and crap because she never does. In fact, this is probably one of the first times she has, and she's getting nothing back.

Fuck it.

"And... We slept together," she continues, trying to see if poking her best friend will get anything out of her. Yet Brittany still sits there, head hung down, bobbing slightly to agree, eyes locked on to their hands where she's rubbing her long fingers over the back of tanned skin. She's not even looking at Santana and even though she loves this girl more than she ever thought she could love anything before, she's getting a little pissed off.

She wasn't the only one there last night. She wasn't the only one feeling the connection, the chemistry, the click.

So why the fuck isn't Brittany saying anything?

"Britt, you gotta give me something more," she urges out after a long few moments of silence and heavy breathing. The frustration is building in her chest and she doesn't want to ruin last night with an argument this morning, so she bites down on her tongue and waits. She can't be the only one talking here.

"San, I―" Brittany pauses, and Santana just tilts her head to the side. Why is this so hard? Like, she gets why if she's honest, but at the same time, shouldn't last night be the answer? Shouldn't it tell Brittany everything she needs to know? Shouldn't this just play out like a movie and the happy ending follow like it should?

"I don't know what you want me to say," the blonde finally settles on, her shoulders lifting and dropping. Her squinted eyes scan over dark ones, searching like she's trying to find a coin at the bottom of a stream but Santana has nothing. She doesn't know where the coin is either. Guess she was just naive for thinking Brittany did.

So she just stares, a little less hopeful than before, trying to ignore the way her heart feels like it's about to drop out her ass and shrugs, too. "Well, you gotta do something, Britt," she starts, her voice scratchy. "You gotta do what you want, what you need."

"That's the thing... I don't know what I want or need," the blonde replies, almost instantly, and Santana's throat begins closing up as she takes note of how Brittany's body has changed though, posture now small and scared.

Though she still wants nothing more than to lock them away in her room and just stay there for as long as possible to avoid all the complications and decisions that are going to come to head in the next week. She can't, and she knows that, and it wouldn't actually solve anything as when they came out eventually all the crap would be there.

So they have to sort this now.

"But Santana," Brittany continues, and Santana didn't even realize she was about to cry until she looked into blue eyes through a watery vision. She sniffs heavily, wiping the corner of her eye with her sleeve and sucks in her lips, trying to bite down the quiver threatening there. "Last night... It was..." Brittany drifts off, her hands reaching back for tanned ones, taking them carefully and pulling them into her lap, her knees bumping into Santana's. "I can't even begin to tell you how much it meant to me," she says, her eyes conveying nothing but the truth.

And so all of a sudden, there's no doubt in Santana's mind at all. There wasn't exactly a huge amount before because last night proved it; she could feel it in every touch, hear it in every moan and taste it on Brittany's lips. So she just nods, entranced by the sheer emotion radiating out of Brittany's stare because nothing could be truer and lets the blonde continue.

"I just..." She shifts on her stool, hands grabbing Santana's tighter. "I need to think this through, so will you let me do that?" She pleads, eyes begging, and even if Santana wanted to say no, she's powerless to this girl.

"Of course," she agrees, clearing her throat, eyebrows creasing momentarily as she tries not to feel vulnerable. It's only a matter or hours or days before Brittany will tell her what she's almost one hundred percent sure of anyway, so she doesn't need to feel so out of place and needy. She can deal with that. Especially with last night and this morning to tide her over. Oh, and the intense, soaring affection, adoration and love blossoming in her chest that's there constantly due to Brittany.

Still, her hand still snaps to the blondes wrist when she gets up from the stool, and her eyes still plead with her to stay. No words are needed—she's not even sure she beg or speak if she wanted to—but she doesn't need with the girl because just as expected, Brittany doesn't say anything back, just comes towards her, bends down slightly and holds her face between her warm palms before kissing her softly, slowly, transferring everything they need to say between their lips instead.

And that's enough for her.

That's enough to watch as Brittany gathers her things, disappears into the bedroom to change and enough to walk her to the door because it feels like a promise. It feels like she's saying no matter how hard things will be, no matter the struggle, her feelings will remain and they will remain, and so she's not disheartened when the blonde stops her in the doorway and comes close to her, their breaths mingling in the small space between them.

Especially because seconds later, she's reassured. "You know how amazing last night was," Brittany whispers, her hand secure and firm against Santana's cheek. "But you know how hard this will be for me, so please, give me some time?"

Santana nods, jaw clenching and hands squeezing slim hips gently because there's nothing inside of her that wants the blonde to leave. Hell, she's pretty sure by the way Brittany's hovering and the way blue eyes keep flickering back down the hall toward the bedroom that she doesn't want to go either, but they're both aware that the sooner they part, the sooner their heads can clear and they can think separately about what last night means and what will come from it.

So she agrees. "Okay," comes out breathlessly. "I'll give you time," she bobs her head and wets her lips. "But don't leave me too long, Britt. I've been waiting long enough," she tries to chuckle to lighten the situation, and it comes out a little bitchier than intended but it's nothing but the truth which is why Brittany smiles and closes the gap between them again, making Santana feel like she could float up into heaven and lay on a cloud and be content forever by kissing her again.

Her hands flex underneath Brittany's t-shirt, her chest inhaling too quickly. Her head goes dizzy as Brittany's tongue slides against her bottom lip and she damn near faints when she feels teeth graze over the spot, too. She just gets so hyper aware of everything that's Brittany when she's around and so oblivious to everything else that she barely even registers herself losing balance and Brittany's fists twisting in the fabric of her sweater until the blonde's smiling into their kiss and chuckling lightly shortly after.

Then the blood rushes to her face and she's about to pull back to emphasize the embarrassment but Brittany's stepping forward, turning them both until Santana's being pressed against the door and everything just zones into blonde hair, blue eyes and raspberry scented shampoo. Brittany's tongue pushes into her mouth, long fingers winding into her hair to deepen the kiss further and she throws her weight into the other girls body until her hands are sliding around to Brittany's ass and she's pulling her against her, their hips moving together in a way that's too familiar already.

It tastes like something she knows she'll never get enough of. The richness of Brittany's tongue and the way it traces the corners of her teeth is just too intoxicating and she knows if they don't break it off soon, they'll be panting heavily into each others mouths as she slides inside her, absolutely butt naked on the floor of their living room, delaying the complications and thoughts that need to happen.

So, somehow, with more self control than she thought she had, she manages to slow it down. The intensity, the heat, manages to decrease until she's pressing kisses against Brittany's lips and no longer focusing on the girls tongue but on the way her hand is resting against Santana's chest, right above her heart, feeling her ribs contract and lungs cause her body to rise and fall steadily, because it means more than she ever thought a simple touch could do.

"I'll see you soon," Brittany whispers, her voice hoarse and eyes squeezed shut, and it sounds like a promise so Santana takes a step back, palms braced against the wall to keep herself as she lets the blonde walk down the hallway and disappear into an elevator.

Santana just slides down against the wall, grinning ridiculously to herself and letting her head fall back against the wall, eyes drifting to the ceiling as memories of last night come back to her where she stays for the next half an hour.

/

She walks to work and she's on top of the fucking world.

The sun is shining, the birds are singing and it feels like she can actually breathe. It feels like there's some hope in her miserable little life, despite complications still present, and so she holds her head high, closes her eyes and lets the warmth bask over her body. She let's the sunlight beam down on her because shit, she's in love and she's almost one hundred percent positive that Brittany loves her back and they actually got somewhere last night because of feelings they just couldn't control.

It's a feeling like she's never known, and she doesn't even realize she's grinning like a total fucking idiot until she gets all the way into work, puts on her uniform and heads out to the bar, beginning to clean the rest of the glasses left over from last night, because Puck eyes her up and comes elbows first to knock her back into reality.

"Huh? What?" She says, startled and wide-eyed.

Puck eyes her again, his brows creased and one slightly raised. "What's up with you?"

Memories of last night and this morning come flooding back to her and shit, she just starts smiling again. "Nothing," she tries to defend herself but it's obvious that it's not just nothing. "Nothing's up," she repeats like it's going to convince him.

Clearly not buying her shit, which is totally reasonable because yeah, there's definitely something up and she's doing a shit poor job of hiding it, Puck throws his rag over his shoulder and turns around, leaning against the bar so he can get a good look at her face. She tries to hide it, she really does. She thinks of pretty much everything she can to wipe the great big grin off her face—abandoned puppies, a sad panda, even third world countries—but it just doesn't work. And the worst part is, she knows even if she wasn't grinning, she's still glowing like a firefly.

Because that's the thing about being happy—it's really fucking obvious.

"Yeah there is," he tries again and narrows his eyes, gesturing with his hand all over his body. "You're all happy and shit," he continues and folds his arms over. "It's weird."

A little offended, she just brushes it off and scoffs. "So now I'm not allowed to be happy without a reason?" She bites.

He chuckles in her face. "Well you're usually a rain cloud of fucking doom, so..."

Her head snaps up and she tries to act offended with parted lips, a deep crease between her brows and a strange noise that's halfway between an exhale and a scoff coming from within, but she knows it's kind of true. She knows she's usually not exactly the happiest of people but that was because she had to watch someone she's in love with, with someone else. No-one can be happy like that and now because of last night, she's kind of... not like that anymore.

Jesus, even thinking about last night's making her grin. Her cheeks are actually starting to hurt and she really needs to just stop fucking smiling. It's getting creepy.

"Fuck you, Puckerman," she spits back, absolutely zero anger in her tone, but her tongue just curls and sends a message to her brain, wishing her to just spit it out. Even though she's getting really pissed off with being told how grumpy she is usually, she can't help but think how sleeping with Brittany has completely turned her upside down. It's turned her from acting like fucking Eeyore to freaking Tigger and there's this burning need to just tell someone.

And it's only Puckerman. The only person he's going to tell is Quinn and shit, Santana will just beat him to it so there's really nothing holding her back.

With that thought, she puts down the rag and slowly turns to Puckerman, immediately feeling her face light up and lips tug into a smile as she thinks about how to phrase it.

"Ugh, fine," she breathes like she's not actually quite looking forward to telling someone. "Something happened," she starts, biting down on her lip but not hiding her smile. "Something pretty big."

Puck narrows his eyes, this time in confusion. "With...?"

She seriously doesn't know how he's not getting this. There's only one person who can make her smile like a total freaking idiot and he even knows that. They've had many conversations about Brittany and he'd have to be deaf, dumb and blind to not be able to work out how she feels about Brittany.

Still, she doesn't say her name and instead just lowers her head, looking up at him through her lashes until he gets it a few seconds later. Barely a second after that, his eyes grow wide, his mouth drops open in sheer surprise and he jolts upright, back almost as straight as a pole. He's so damn shocked she doesn't know whether she should be offended. Was her getting with Brittany seriously that much of a no no?

"Holy shit!" He exclaims. "With Brittany!?"

Just the sheer mention of her name makes her heart skip a beat. "Yeah," she admits, a little shyly.

"Hot fucking damn! What happened?" He almost dives toward her, wanting to know the gossip and this time she starts smiling and laughing for a whole other reason than Brittany. He's like a freaking teenager wanting to know the latest gossip. What a girl.

Still, she finds the motion of his action is so quick that he knocks a glass off the counter and luckily, it doesn't break but it creates this almighty clash with the linoleum floor which causes the very few customers—two, to be exact—look around with frowns on their faces.

"Shit, Puckerman," she hisses and punches him in the upper arm. "You've gotta be quiet."

She offers a quick and light smile at the customers who grumble and go back to drinking their beer at midday. She's a bit of a bitch—okay, bit may be an understatement—but she's pretty sure it's really fucking unhealthy to start drinking pints and pints of beer in the middle of the fucking day, but still she doesn't' want to lose her job. This place pays her rent.

Puck just pulls his lips down in an apologetic smile and bends down to pick up the glass, before returning to her side and leaning in. He's a little eager to say the least. "So? What happened?"

Being Santana Lopez, she has to act all cool and shit even though she came in here with a grin the size of Canada on her face, she rolls her eyes. But she can't stop herself because the second her eyes return to Puck, Brittany flashes into her mind, Brittany's scent comes back to her in a second and she can't help but remember how incredible it felt to be surrounded by everything that was Brittany.

God, when did she get so damn lame?

"We just," she starts and has to stop, pressing her tongue to the back of her teeth to stop the excitement from breaking through in her tone. God only knows she's having to stop herself from jumping up and down and all around because it was just so amazing. It was everything she dreamed of, it was everything she wanted and it actually freaking happened. It actually happened.

"We just..." She wets her lips and bites down gently, unable to stop the grin. "Oh, fuck it," she cuts in, knowing it's pointless to pretend not to be over the fucking moon with this. "We slept together and it was the most amazing night of my entire life," she whispers excitedly, grinning so damn wide her face might just split.

And God, she almost gets out-reacted by Puck because he quite literally jumps into the air and pumps his fist in the air. He bobs his head in approval, his eyes shining with pride and she knows he wants to yell how happy he is for her, but his eyes flick over her shoulder to the customers in the corner and she knows he's only holding back because those customers are grumpy fucks. Grumpy alcoholic fucks, actually.

"Fuck yes!" He chants in a hushed tone and puts his fist out. She rolls her eyes playfully but touches it with her own as a sign of respect. "What brought it on? Did you tell her about Jason?"

The mention of the douchebag's name doesn't even get her down, doesn't even cause her heart to drop because she knows that last night meant something, and it must have meant more than Jason does to Brittany because otherwise Brittany wouldn't have done it. Brittany's not like that, and Santana guesses this means a few changes in the future. Not to mention Brittany left on a pretty positive note this morning.

"No," she tells him, honestly, reaching around to rub the back of her neck even as she smiles at the bar top in front of her. "And we were just... I don't know. We were arguing, and she just... Kissed me," she admits. She still can't really get her head around how it happened, but she's just so fucking happy it did.

Puck's pearly whites gleam as he grins at her. "Fucking score, Lopez," he says and bumps her in the shoulder in a strange brotherly congratulations. "But for real, you didn't tell her about Jason?"

She shrugs and leans against the bar with both hands. "I didn't see the point," she takes in a deep breath.

"But he slept with a stripper," he points out like she doesn't already know that. "He cheated on her, Lopez. Isn't that something you probably should've mentioned before seducing her?"

A little offended, and pissed off that yeah, maybe he has a point, she straightens up and looks to him, chest a little buffed out and tongue ready to go on a long one about how she definitely didn't seduce Brittany, and how she was more than willing and had clearly wanted it for a long time, too.

But then the unthinkable happens.

But then the one thing that she never thought would happen, and was so unlikely to happen, does, because the second she opens her mouth to say, "I didn't seduce her," she hears another voice chime in. Another voice that in any other situation, would be music to her ears. In any other situation, would only make this most incredible day, even better. In any other situation, would make her heart soar and heart leap.

Because in any other situation, it wouldn't make her world feel like it had just fallen apart around her.

"Jason cheated on me?"

Her head snaps around so fast it momentarily suspends from her neck and the second she sees Brittany standing in the doorway, her heart drops, stomach sinks and vision blurs. Because now she guesses she doesn't need to tell Brittany anything. She guesses she doesn't need to break the news, and break Brittany's heart just that little bit.

The breath is ripped straight from her lungs and everything around her goes a little fuzzy, gets a little blurry. Blood rushes through her system and her head pounds because she can't believe this is happening. She can't believe everything can be near-perfect and then go to this in a second. She can't believe she was so damn stupid and let Brittany down like that.

And she doesn't even get to respond, doesn't even get to attempt to defend herself, only gets to see the way Brittany narrows her tear-filled eyes, shakes her head in disappointment and betrayal, flares her nose in anger and rushes out the bar without another word.

Brittany heard everything.

/

Yup, I know. Feel free to vent in the review box below.