Snixxwrath asked: 72. "Just smile, I really need to see you smile right now."
It's half an hour past closing time when Santana starts to get worried. She knows Brittany runs late sometimes, depending on what's happening at the precinct at the end of her shift, but it's going on forty minutes and there's no sign of her girlfriend. Over the last couple months they've been dating, Brittany's come to pick her up from the flower shop almost everyday, and they go on a short walk or head to the cafe or down to the river or out to dinner, depending on the time, before they head home (Santana's apartment is right in the middle of both the precinct and the flower shop, and more nights than not they just end up staying there because it's so convenient; most nights they just end up curling up together and falling asleep, and Santana's never been happier in her life).
It's been pouring for about twenty minutes, and Santana can't help but think of all the horrible things that could have happened to Brittany. It wouldn't be the first time Brittany had to call her and tell her to head home, and right now Santana doesn't even care care about the sleepless night she knows she'll have without Brittany's warmth pressed against her, she just needs to know Brittany's okay. She knows that Brittany's probably caught up in a case and will call her soon to apologize and tell her to head home, but between the zero messages on her phone and the pouring rain, her stomach is twisted in knots. She's pacing at the front of the store, wringing her hands and glancing at her phone every fifteen seconds, when the wind chimes above the door jangle.
Santana spins on her heel towards the door, her fear dissipating as soon as her eyes land on her girlfriend. "Brittany," Santana gasps, immediately crossing the store to greet her. "You're soaked."
"Sorry," Brittany mutters sheepishly, glancing down at the puddle forming around her feet. Her blonde hair is limp and stuck to her shoulders, her sweater is heavy on her shoulders and dripping water, she won't meet Santana's eyes, and there's a long, painful looking scrape along her temple.
"What?" Santana asks, her brows drawn together, her eyes darting all over Brittany's face in worry.
Brittany gestures to the water pooling on the floor and winces, but Santana's already shaking her head. Brittany's hands are ice cold when she takes them, and Santana brings them to her lips, pressing her lips to the knuckles and breathing hot air into them. "I don't care about the water. I care about you, you're going to get sick from all this."
"Sorry I'm late," she whispers.
"It's fine," Santana whispers back, matching Brittany's tone, "You're here now."
"It was just—" Brittany cuts herself off and breathes out shakily. When her blue eyes finally meet Santana's, they're so dull that Santana's heart aches. "It was just a really bad day."
"Aw, sweetie," Santana releases one of Brittany's hands to cup her cheek, "You didn't have to come, you should have just called me and then gone home," Santana says, brushing Brittany's soaked hair back from her face; her fingers skate over the scrape on Brittany's temple, murmuring an apology when Brittany winces at the gentle pressure.
Brittany shrugs one shoulder and ducks her head. "I just really needed to see you," she admits quietly. "It was— I just needed to see you."
"Britt-Britt," Santana mumbles. She releases Brittany's other hand and cups her cheek, pulling her down so their foreheads press together. "What can I do?"
"Just smile," Brittany whispers instantly, "I really need to see you smile right now."
Santana leans forward and presses her lips to Brittany's, keeping the pressure light and gentle, keeping the kiss soft and reassuring, long and innocent. Brittany's eyes are closed when Santana slowly pulls away, and Santana pecks her lips again quickly. She smiles softly, waiting for blue eyes to flutter open.
"Thank you," Brittany whispers, her lips pulled thin by the small smile playing across her face. There's life in her blue eyes again, glowing and brightening, and she kisses Santana quickly. "I love you."
Santana's chest tightens and a thousand butterflies erupt in her stomach, making her soul tremble and her heart pound, until she feels floaty all the way down to her toes. There have been so many times, especially over the past few weeks, that Santana's bit her tongue to keep those words trapped inside her mouth out of fear that Brittany didn't feel the same way, and all of a sudden Santana has no clue what she was so scared of.
"I love you too," Santana whispers, and if she's a little teary only the security cameras and Brittany will ever know.
Brittany's smile lights up her entire face, and despite the puddle forming around her and the blonde hair stuck to her neck and her sopping clothes and the painful scrape on her temple, Santana's pretty sure she's never looked happier or more beautiful.
Santana knows that she's never been happier herself, kissing her girlfriend who's still drenched from the rain, tilting her face down closer to hers and humming into her mouth when Brittany's hands curl around her hips to tug them closer together. Brittany's lips moves over hers in a way that's achingly familiar, and Santana realizes she's mumbling I love you against her lips, and Santana smiles into the kiss, curling even impossibly closer, sliding her hands to the back of Brittany's neck and tracing tiny hearts across her skin.