Just a short chapter, sorry. I've been uber busy lately. Anyway, please please please review! I'd love to know what you guys think is going well/badly! PS: This whole story is unbeta'd-all mistakes are mine!
V
I would like to say a word about our physical relationship.
For a strangely (for me) long time, there wasn't one. I mean, there wasn't anything significantly more than I kisses (each of which I remember in great detail). These weren't at all routine, instead being spontaneous and passionate and always catching me off guard. If anyone in New York had heard that I, Santana Lopez had been courting a girl daily for more than three weeks, and had barely even touched her, let alone slept with her, they would inevitably laughed and questioned whether I was in fact dating a girl, or whether I had just made it all up in my head. But of course, the reality was somewhat different.
I didn't know what to do.
Don't misinterpret that, or take it literally, I mean, I knew all the moves. I'm Santana Lopez, for gods sake. It was just…different. Different from all the other flings, one night stands and hookups I'd ever had. I was afraid of messing things up, or being bad, or even worse, rejected by Brittany in the first place.
"You'll fail your test, San, if you keep pretending to study."
We were curled up in my bed, reading.
"Saaaaaaaan." She sounded mildly amused.
I looked up.
"Hmm?"
She chuckled. "You're gonna fail if you keep watching me studying."
I gave an indignant snort.
"I am studying, Britt." As evidence, I showed her the page of my book that I wasn't reading.
She laughed, and shook her head.
"That's crap, San, and you know it. Quit staring at my legs." She winked flirtatiously.
I blushed.
"I'm not. Looking at your legs. Uh, I mean, only once in a while. Every chapter."
"That book has extremely small chapels, San."
I frowned, and then shook my head, laughing quietly. Chapels?
"Listen you vain bitch, your legs aren't that good!"
She looked at me in a sultry manner.
"I know. But can I help it if you think so?" She deadpanned.
I pushed my book onto the floor, and straddled her legs.
"For God's sake, Britt, how the hell can I study when all I'm focused on is how much I want to…" I blushed, and she smirked knowingly.
"I want to, too."
She looked back at her book, and I groaned, pushing it out of her hands gently with a thump.
"Brittany."
"I want to." She breathed.
Then it all happened at once. It wasn't planned, it wasn't romantic, but it was tender, and gentle, and perfect. Loving. It was all unhurried, soft, passionate. What shocked me was my own actions. I'd been used to headboard banging, meaningless sex, but this…this was a completely different experience all together. I was gentle, caring, loving, even.
Afterwards, we lay in bed together, legs entangled and fingers entwined, noses touching and lips stealing lazy kisses from one another. We talked for what felt like a short time, but was actually more like an age, watching the sky turn from blue to pink, from pink to orange, from orange to a dark blue, the stars twinkling in the darkness.
"San?" She spoke timidly, and for a split second I panicked. Had I hurt her?
"Did I hurt you?" My voice was thick with concern, and I hurriedly removed one hand from her waist. She shook her head.
"I just…I wanted to ask about your Abuela." She looked down, afraid of my reaction.
I exhaled.
"There's nothing to ask about." I replied flatly.
She sighed defeatedly. "Fine."
A few uncomfortable moments passed before I plucked up the courage to speak.
"Britt?"
She turned her head to face me, humming a reply.
"Do you…do you maybe want to meet her?"
She smiled, and a relieved sigh whistled through my lips. Her lips met mine, and we kissed for a moment.
"Did I tell you that I love you?" she said.
I snorted, and shook my head. She gave a wicked smile.
"Why didn't you ask me?"
I shrugged.
"Ask me now."
I'd never thought I'd be in a situation that was quite so absurd, or perfect.
"Go on."
I paused.
"Brittany…do you love me?"
She looked at me apprehensively.
"What do you think?"
I shrugged again.
She kissed me sweetly, and for a moment I forgot where my head was.
"San, I don't just love you…"
Oh god.
"I love you very much, Santana."