Thursday night Santana walked towards Quinn's apartment at a slow, unhurried pace. The night was unusually warm with a gentle breeze, even though it was nearing the end of September; it was like summer didn't want to waste away completely and was staying around for as long as it possibly could.
Quinn had texted her earlier in the week with her apartment's address, telling Santana to meet her at 7 o'clock, and that she had something she wanted to show Santana. Santana had no idea what she was getting herself into, but realized she didn't care as she neared the building. As long as Quinn was there, it really didn't matter what they did.
Santana reached the address promptly at 7—a large apartment complex in Upper Manhattan—and glanced around. For being in New York City, Quinn had managed to find a seemingly quiet corner of the place; the street her building was located on was relatively quiet and quaint, with little traffic and small stores and boutiques lining it on either side. Santana could smell the distinct smell of coffee and wasn't surprised there must have been a shop within walking distance—Quinn had always loved her coffee. It was peaceful and serene, which wasn't something you found too often in the city, and Santana realized just how fitting it was for Quinn.
She walked up the few steps to the front door and was met with an older man who had a kind face. He opened the door for Santana and stepped aside so she could enter.
"Good evening, miss," he said with a smile, "Who are you here to see tonight?"
Santana was about to answer when a voice came drifting across the lobby.
"She's with me, Gary," Quinn answered as she approached the two with a grin. Santana looked at her and felt her heart pounding in her chest. This is ridiculous, she thought to herself, she's hardly even looked at me and I'm getting fucking heart palpitations. Absolutely ridiculous.
The doorman, Gary, inclined his head slightly. "Of course, Miss Fabray. You two ladies have a good evening."
"You do the same, Gary," Quinn told him. She motioned for Santana to follow her and began to walk in the direction she had just come from. Santana threw a smile in Gary's direction and caught up to Quinn. While the girl's back was still to her, Santana continued her new tradition of looking Quinn over from top to bottom, taking everything in. As per usual, she was dressed in a sundress—Santana genuinely wondered if the blonde owned much else—but looked amazing, also as per usual. Her dress was navy with a white collar falling down to just above her knees, and Quinn's hair was straight again; except this time, she had a braid on either side of her head and they came together in the back and flowed down into the rest of her blonde hair.
"Do you own anything but dresses?" Santana thought out loud and pulled up short when she realized the words came out of her mouth. She was wearing jeans and a blouse on the train, you idiot. Of course she has other clothes. Quinn turned to her with an amused look on her face. "Uhh…wow, I'm sorry," Santana stumbled, feeling the heat flood her face in embarrassment, "I have no idea where that came from, I just…" She looked down at her feet to avoid staring into the hazel eyes. But when Quinn giggled Santana took it as a sign she was still in good graces with the girl and brought her gaze up. Quinn was grinning widely and her eyes were sparkling.
"Yes, I do actually, believe it or not," Quinn replied. She turned around again and walked to the elevator, hitting the up arrow. Santana followed in her footsteps to stand beside her. "But hey it's almost fall and I won't be able to wear dresses then. I'm just getting good use out of them while I can. Don't be hating." She looked sideways at Santana, still smiling.
"No, no, I'm not. I mean, you look good in anything," Santana rushed to set the record straight. "I was just wondering…" she trailed off lamely not sure how to finish. She was drowning in her words and Quinn noticed it; she reached out and patted Santana's shoulder gently.
"Thank you for the compliment, but seriously, Santana? You need to work on this whole talking to girls thing. You used to be much better at it," Quinn teased and it earned her a playful smack to the arm from Santana.
"I am so good at talking to girls, Q, always have been, always will be. You better watch it."
Quinn just rolled her eyes in response as the elevator doors finally opened and they walked in. Quinn punched the button for floor 25 with her thumb.
"You live on the top floor?" Santana asked, eyebrows arched in question.
"Yes," Quinn said with a nod, "but we're not going to my apartment." There was a mischievous gleam in her eyes and Santana's pulse quickened—like it always did now when Quinn was within sight.
"Well then where are we going?"
"You'll see," Quinn stated simply with a smile.
The elevator slowly ascended through the building, shuddering and rattling, until it finally reached the topmost floor with a ding. The doors opened and Quinn walked out and set off down the hallway, Santana trailing in her wake. They passed doors to numerous apartments, and Santana wondered which one was Quinn's. She was about to pose the question when Quinn stopped in her tracks in front of a particular door at the end of the hall. Santana quickly came to a halt behind her, not wanting to crash into Quinn, and waited patiently. Quinn bit her lip as she turned the doorknob to open the door and she suddenly looked shy. Santana knit her eyebrows together in confusion at Quinn's abrupt change in demeanor, but followed her through the door and up the set of steps that were behind it. At the top of the steps Quinn stopped and opened yet `another door. She stepped back so Santana could go first. When Santana crossed over the threshold of the door she gasped slightly.
They were on the roof of Quinn's apartment building. Obviously. The area was longer than it was wide, and there were Christmas lights hanging from the side of the building. Not that they were really needed: though Quinn's neighborhood seemed to be relatively removed from the hustle and bustle of the city, you could see for miles out in front of you from the roof. The lights of buildings all over twinkled and sparkled above and below, casting a soft, dim light on the roof, and Santana moved forward to the edge to get a better view. Her hands rested on the waist-high wall as she looked down. The street below wasn't the one the building's front door was on, because it was busy and loud. People walking down the sidewalks, cars moving along slowly on the road. It was beautiful, it was breathtaking, and it was perfect.
"This is one of my favorite places in the world," Quinn said softly from behind Santana. She turned around to face the girl and tilted her head, urging Quinn to explain. "It's like, you're still a part of the city because you can see and hear everything that goes on. But you're also removed from it all, like you're watching some other world carry on while you just sit back and watch. I don't know, maybe it's stupid, but it's relaxing." Quinn had made her way over to stand beside Santana as she spoke, her eyes trained on the view.
"No," Santana responded in a whisper, "It's not stupid. Not at all." She was still faced in the opposite direction of Quinn, and took the time to really study Quinn's features. The sun had long set and the only source of light came from the moon high in the sky, the mass lights from the city, and the Christmas lights. It wasn't much though, and Quinn's face was somewhat darkened; but by now, after countless daydreams and fantasies, Santana knew her well enough.
Santana realized how much she had always taken for granted when it came to Quinn's beauty. Her lips were a soft, pale pink and Santana remembered how good they had felt against her skin 3 years ago. Quinn's eyelashes were long, and they made her impossibly hazel eyes even more alluring. Her cheekbones and jawline looked like they had been hand-sculpted to perfection; they were gently curved and prominent, and Santana couldn't find a single flaw in the blonde's overall appearance.
"I come up here to get away from the craziness of the world," Quinn told Santana suddenly as she turned around to face her.
"Don't people ever bother you though?" Santana asked curiously, and Quinn bit her lip in embarrassment.
"They don't actually. After I found this place I paid the maintenance guy extra to change the lock on the door and give me one of the two keys—he has the other one. As far as everyone else in the building is concerned, you're not allowed on the roof unless you're maintenance personnel." Quinn grinned proudly and Santana nodded in agreement.
"Impressive, Quinn, very impressive."
The two girls fell into a familiar, comfortable silence as they both leaned against the wall, taking in the view; Quinn turned around again to look out over the city, while Santana kept herself facing away, stealing a glance at the blonde every few seconds. A couple of moments passed before Quinn spoke up again.
"Are you happy with your life?" Quinn asked. Out of the corner of her eyes Santana could see Quinn looking at her, but she refused to meet the eye contact. It was a random question and it completely took Santana off guard, but she knew Quinn wouldn't ask if she wasn't genuinely interested in the answer.
"Hmm," Santana dragged the word out as she thought about the truth. "Honestly, I don't know. I mean, I know it could be worse. I have a roof over my head, a relatively stable job, and I'm graduating in a few years."
"But?" Quinn prompted, sensing the hesitancy in Santana's words.
"But I feel like there's more. Something I'm not seeing. Something I'm completely missing. I guess it's no surprise that after Brittany and I broke up I turned to booze and sex to try to clear my mind. Or at least numb it." Santana chanced a glance at Quinn and saw a sad, knowing smile. Kindness and curiosity filled Quinn's eyes, and for some unknown reason Santana didn't feel awkward talking about her feelings with Quinn, as she usually did with other people. "Somewhere in the middle of it all it lost its appeal. I was just so damaged and confused, I kept going with the whole one night stand thing because it gave me something to do."
"Why do you still do it then? I mean I guess I get why at first, but all these years later, you still take random women to bed with you. Why?" Quinn's voice was calm, but Santana thought she could hear a flare of anger in the words.
"Well, then there was the whole thing with you and Mr. Schue's wedding. After it all, I had no clue why I was still thinking about it because it was one night for God's sake and I just wanted to drown my thoughts and emotions. Come on, Quinn, you know me. Self-esteem has never been my high point. Feelings never were my thing, and I just got sick of seeing myself as weak and broken." She had no idea why she was divulging all of this to Quinn, but she felt like she owed it to her.
Quinn nodded in acknowledgement but didn't say anything for a few seconds. "You know," she started as she turned to completely face Santana, who mirrored the movement, "one day, someone will come along and make you forget all about the pain. They'll make it seem like a bad dream. They will make you realize you are not, and never were, broken; that person will, instead, help you see that sometimes, the first person you ever thought you couldn't live without, was just another lesson to learn from. They will make you feel things you've never felt, and think things you've never thought. That person," Quinn said in a soft voice, and she reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Santana's ear, her fingers lingering along Santana's jawline, "will make you rethink everything you thought you knew about love, and they will make you a better person for it."
Santana swallowed the words that were about to tumble out of her mouth—she didn't want to chase Quinn away for moving too quickly only days after they reconnected. I want that person to be you. Instead, she nodded her head jerkily, her eyes still locked on Quinn's hazel ones. Their faces were mere inches from each other and every nerve in Santana's body was urging her to close the distance between their lips, but she ignored the temptation. Her eyes, though, couldn't resist the urge to flick towards Quinn's lips quickly and then back up to Quinn's own eyes. Santana waited for her to make the next move, to say something or do something.
Quinn tilted her head sideways and she seemed to be thinking about something. Santana could feel the tension rising in her chest in the silence and she clenched her fists at her side. Quinn finally let out a deep breath and whispered, apparently to herself, "Screw it."
Her next movement seemed to happen in slow motion: she closed her eyes and brushed her lips lightly against Santana's before crushing them together, doing what Santana had wanted to do from the time she saw Quinn on the train. Her hands moved to both sides of Santana's face and cupped it gently. Santana instinctively snaked her arms around Quinn's waist, pulling her even closer and the building pressure she had started to feel dissolved in an instant.
A cliché. That's what the kiss was. There were the metaphorical fireworks erupting in each of their minds, and a warm, tingling sensation shot through their entire bodies. But it was the most explosive cliché either girl had ever experienced. Fire met ice as a feeling of total peace and serenity fell over them, making them feel like everything in their lives had led up to this moment, this kiss.
Quinn quickly deepened the kiss, running her tongue over Santana's bottom lip. Santana opened her mouth to grant Quinn's tongue entrance and moaned in pleasure; she wasn't used to the one being controlled—she was normally the one doing the controlling of things—but her body reacted differently to Quinn's. It was electrifying, it was magnetic. Santana let her own tongue roam free, exploring every inch of the inside of Quinn's mouth. Santana moved her hands to Quinn's hips and gripped tightly, refusing to let go of the girl. Their lips moved in unison, as though they knew each other's every next move.
After a few seconds the girls became aware of their need for oxygen and broke apart, leaning their foreheads against one another and slightly out of breath. The girls' lips seared and scorched with satisfying heat. Santana kept her eyes shut, not wanting the moment to ever end. Her heart was beating faster than ever and the effect the kiss was having on her made her question every other kiss she had had in her life.
"You're not broken, Santana," Quinn breathed. She leaned in for another kiss, but kept it quick and chaste before pulling back again. Her hands still held Santana's face in place and when she opened her eyes Santana had no choice but to stare at Quinn. Quinn's lips were red and swollen from the force of the kiss, but she still looked beautiful as ever. The look on Quinn's face practically knocked the wind out of her and made her knees weak; it was one of pure and unadulterated care and kindness. It made Santana feel like the only person on the face of the earth, and it projected words Quinn didn't need to vocally say—words that made Santana think Quinn was the only person in the world who possessed a key to true living, and it was something Quinn was willing to share with her.
"Thank you," Santana whispered in a raspy voice and Quinn smiled. "So," she continued in a lighter tone, "how long have you wanted to do that?" A grin spread across Santana's face as she saw Quinn's surprised expression at the question.
"You mean with the exception of the last 3 years?" Quinn asked, composing her thoughts. "Since junior year of high school." Santana's eyes widened in shock and she opened her mouth slightly in astonishment.
"Wait, what?" she inquired in a strained voice, not sure if she had heard Quinn correctly.
Quinn smiled guiltily as she pulled away from Santana and walked towards the center of the rooftop. Santana saw for the first time since they had arrived a set of lounge chairs and a pair of wicker chairs positioned beside each other. Quinn took a seat on the end of one of the long, cushioned pieces of furniture. She clasped her hands in her lap and fiddled with her fingers before looking back over at Santana, who hadn't moved a single inch.
"Yeah, umm, I've kind of wanted to kiss you since junior year. Actually, since you sang 'Landslide' with Miss Holliday and Brittany, to be even more specific." Quinn shrugged her shoulders indifferently.
"Why then?" Santana asked faintly. She felt like she had just run into a brick wall and was trying to remember where she was.
"You were so open and so vulnerable. I had never seen you like that—well, no, not never. You used to be more open about your feelings when we were kids. But it had been a very long time since you had been so explicit about things. Seeing you sing that song…I don't know, it kind of just changed something in me. I saw just how good of a person you are and how much you care about people. Despite what people thought and said, that song proved you had a heart—a heart that was so big and open. You probably made a lot of people fall for you that day, honestly." Quinn's voice was calm and confident, as though she had been waiting a long time—years, maybe—to say the words.
Santana gaped at her. "And you didn't say anything?"
Even in the dark Santana could see the eye roll Quinn gave her. "Of course I didn't, Santana. I mean, I know I was a pretty terrible person all throughout high school, but not even I was cruel enough to get between what you and Britt had."
"Brittany and I weren't…" Santana started, but Quinn cut her off.
"Yes, you were," she said firmly. "You were in love with each other, anyone could see it. Maybe you guys hadn't gotten around to actually saying it out loud to one other, but everyone knew it was true."
"Quinn, I don't…I mean, I…I'm sorry…" But Santana stopped when Quinn started shaking her head.
"No, Santana, please don't apologize. It's not your fault. It was just crappy timing on my part."
Santana nodded in response as she made her way over to Quinn and sat down behind her, lying against the back of the lounge chair. She tugged on Quinn's wrist to get her to move positions, and Quinn situated herself in between the girl's legs as she leaned back on Santana's chest. Santana wound her arms around Quinn's waist and rested her chin on Quinn's shoulder.
"I am sorry, though. About everything," Santana murmured in Quinn's ear.
"You have nothing to be sorry for," Quinn replied softly as she began tracing circles on Santana's knees, causing goosebumps to arise. "Seriously, it was no one's fault. I dealt with it. I'm fine."
"Yeah, but if I had known I would have…"
"Would have what, Santana?" Quinn interjected, and Santana didn't truthfully know what she would have done. "Dumped Brittany and just come walking my way? Would you have showed up on my doorstep ready to confess your feelings for me? I don't think so. Even if I had told you what I was feeling and by some miracle you had felt even a little bit the same way, it wouldn't have mattered. I couldn't compete with Brittany. I have never been able to compete with Brittany." Santana felt her heart ache with guilt as she recognized the truth in Quinn's words. Though she and Quinn had always been close friends, her relationship with Brittany had been completely different. Until Mr. Schue's wedding, of course.
"High school was years ago, Quinn. It doesn't matter anymore," Santana told her.
"And what does that mean, Santana?"
Santana took a deep breath. "It means, what happened in high school is long over. What I felt in high school is long gone. Right now, there is no competition between you and Brittany. Quinn, there is no competition between you and anybody. Right now, there is just me and you, and nothing else matters."
Quinn cocked her head to the side and Santana could see her grinning. "I like that," she said quietly.
"So do I," Santana affirmed as she nuzzled into Quinn's neck. She inhaled deeply, taking in Quinn's immediately intoxicating scent. It was a mixture of lilac, vanilla, and peppermint and Santana let the smell take over her senses.
Quinn leaned her head back against Santana's shoulder and closed her eyes contentedly. Santana, incredibly comfortable with her cheek resting against Quinn's neck, felt herself drifting off into a light sleep when she suddenly remembered something.
"What did you mean by 'screw it' earlier?" she questioned into the silence.
"Hmm?" Quinn responded, not opening her eyes and Santana wondered if the girl had actually dozed off.
"Before we kissed, you said 'screw it.' I'm kind of just wondering why." Quinn opened her eyes and lifted her head, and from what Santana could see of it, an embarrassed look had made its way onto her face.
"Oh, that. I wasn't going to kiss you at first."
"Why?" Santana asked in horror; she couldn't imagine what would have happened if Quinn hadn't initiated the kiss—and frankly, she didn't want to know.
"Because kissing someone on what you have already established as not a date isn't exactly taking things slowly, is it?" Quinn looked at her with wide, innocent eyes.
"That's no fun," Santana pouted and Quinn grinned.
"I know it's not. Which is why I'm throwing the whole thing out the window. Screw taking things slowly. I say we go at this thing full-force, or we don't go at all." She turned her head to place a kiss on Santana's jawline, and Santana felt her skin heat up at the contact.
"So what does this mean exactly then?"
"In the context of what?"
"I mean, are we…you know…are we dating?" Santana stammered over the words, but was relieved when they came out relatively coherently.
Quinn leaned back again as she thought about it. "Yes," she said with a nod, "we are dating."
"Good answer, Fabray," Santana teased. She squeezed the girl gently and kissed Quinn's shoulder.
"Whatever, Lopez," Quinn threw back.
The next few minutes passed in an easy quietness, neither girl feeling the need to fill the silence with extraneous words. Santana was more content and happy with how things were going than she had been for years, and she could get used to holding Quinn in her arms. It felt right, and she finally felt like she was where she was supposed to be in her life.
"Hey," she said suddenly as a thought dawned on her.
"Yes?" Quinn replied, tilting her head to look at Santana.
"If we're dating, does that mean I get to kiss you whenever I want?"
Quinn's eyes sparkled and she giggled in response. "Yes, Santana," she told her, "that means you get to kiss me whenever you want."