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Goodnight From Me, Good Morning To You
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Kissing Santana was like being electrocuted - to some extent. It travelled through your body, from your lips right down your spine, to your fingertips, causing them to tingle and reach out, and onwards, down to your toes. It was a full body experience, one that left your alight, bright, and very much turned on.
That wasn't really something you were used to dealing with. Yes, you'd been attracted to people before. And yes, you had been turned on before, but this...this was so much more. This was something new, and whether it was because she was the first girl you had ever...you weren't sure, but it was different. It felt like more. It made you feel alive, kissing her, touching her, just being with her, and maybe that was how relationships were meant to be, you didn't know, but god, it made you want to never stop kissing her.
Of course, that was entirely impractical, and you did have to stop. You had to go to classes, you had to sleep, you had to eat, you had to exist outside of Santana and the radio station. Doing so was good for you, as the more you thought over the situation, you realised that you hadn't really carved a life for yourself at Yale yet.
You may have found friends in Mike, Sam, and Tina; and whatever was going on with Santana was great, but outside of that, there wasn't much else. Perhaps you needed to branch out more. It very much felt like you had put all your eggs in one basket, and as life had taught you before, that was not a wise thing to do.
You had B02, you had the radio station, but they were very much Santana centric. If, and heaven forbid, but if things went south, you were going to find yourself alone again. And that thought, that thought scared you right back into your dorm room, with shaky hands, and a weight on your chest you hadn't experienced in a while.
You okay? Haven't seen you around lately. - Santana sent you, after a couple of days with you holed up in your room, trying to pull the anxiety back under control. It was like fighting an army, blindfolded, and defenceless. You were losing, and old problems were creeping back in. Like the nightmares that had you looking like the walking dead, and the flashbacks, that had your heart racing a million miles a minute.
Staying in your room, even under your roommate's judging eyes, was better than facing the world.
Yeah, thanks. Just been under the weather lately. It was an accurate description, without revealing the truth, and gave you just enough rope to hide out for a few more days.
Only, an hour later, with Kitty gone and knocking at the door, you knew hiding wasn't going to be possible any more.
"Whoa, you look like shit," Santana said, leaning in your doorway, leaving you a little dazed and confused. What was she doing there? "I'm here to make you feel better," she replied, answering the words that had slipped out your mouth. And then you replayed what she'd said and blushed.
Pushing past you, Santana rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Not like that, you perv."
Closing the door, you turned to find she had settled herself on your bed, and was looking you over.
"What...what is it?" you asked, wrapping your arms around your body. Now your ridiculously long cardigan, v-neck t-shirt and plaid sleep trousers felt embarrassing, which whatever, you were in your own room, but still. Santana was sitting there looking like a runway model.
"I thought you'd maybe have the flu, but the lack of tissues in here, and that full bin tell me otherwise. I can't think it would be a stomach bug, as I saw you heading to class the other day, so...what's up?" She looked far too inquisitive, and you wondered how you could navigate the two of you across this minefield unscathed.
"I have a back injury, it's flared up," you lied, somewhat. It wasn't exactly a lie, you did have a back injury, and it was sore most of the time, but no, it wasn't the ailment that was bothering you right now, and had you hiding away from the world.
"Oh," Santana said, frowning. "You had that at the party, karaoke night." Yeah, you had, and she'd remembered. Nodding, you shuffled over and crawled onto the bed next to her, by the pillows. "So you got painkillers or whatever, or exercises to help?" Her voice was concerned, with a little curiosity seeping in.
"Both. They're not doing their usual. It's fine. It'll pass." Your back pain mostly responded to the pain meds, with exercises to be done when it wasn't sore. But given you were lying your ass off about what was actually wrong, you felt the need to be completely honest about how your meds weren't helping with the nightmares, nor the anxiety, and certainly not with the flashbacks.
"Well, I can go and leave you to it, or we can watch West Wing season one, cause it's awesome and Rachel told me you've never seen it, which is a crime, by the way. Whatever. Choice is up to you," Santana said, trying to sound nonchalant about the offer, but obviously keen to stay with you, 'make you feel better', she'd said as she came in.
"Rachel, huh?" You wondered if Santana had mentioned your distance as of late, because Rachel would know instantly what was going on. She knew, more than most, what was going on when you pulled away. The pain, the nightmares, the flashbacks.
She also knew that when you crawled up inside yourself, it was safer to wait for you to reach out, than to ask what was going on or attempt to help. As stubborn as it sounded, you prefered to pick yourself back up than let anyone else do it.
And now, you were to make that decision once again; ask Santana to go, and pick yourself back up, or let her stay, and accept her help. Yes, she wouldn't know what was exactly wrong, but inadvertently, she'd help you.
Being too Santana centric was what had you freaking out in the first place, but looking her over, with the slight worry in her eyes, and the way her hand was softly on your knee, comforting you, you knew there was no way you could ask her to go.
"You get the box set, and I'll get the snacks," you said, and she beamed, before telling you to stay put, and that she would do everything.
Smiling to yourself, you wondered how you got so lucky to have her in your life.
*0*0*
Two disks later, the two of you were lying, somewhat cramped together, on your bed, with your heads on the pillows, looking up at the ceiling. God knows where your roommate was, but Kitty's absence was appreciated, as you don't think she'd respond too kindly to you being curled up in bed with your sort-of-but-not-really-girlfriend, who was slowly waking up from a short nap she'd had.
"I fell asleep, no," she whined, rubbing her eyes, before looking at you. "I'm sorry, I normally sleep in the evening, so I can be awake for my set."
"It's okay, you didn't have to stay with me, so I don't mind."
"I wanted to stay. Plus, West Wing." You rolled your eyes, smiling, and turned to lie on your side, facing her better.
The sound of the two of you breathing and the hum of the lamp on was the only sound in the room, offering a welcome silence.
Of course, you'd spent a lot of time around Rachel, and had picked up some of her bad habits, so you just had to end the silence with inane chatter. And that meant saying the first thing that came to your mind.
"You don't sing," you said, mulling over that thought. It had been on your mind since Mike mentioned it, and maybe because you were in Glee club, desperate to perform all the time, it came over as weird. Especially for someone like Santana. She was confident, outgoing, and even if she didn't have the best voice in the world, you can't imagine why that would stop her.
"What?" Santana asked, looking at you weird. Probably wondering where the hell that came from.
"At the burlesque event, you weren't singing, and Mike mentioned something about you not singing. I didn't think anything of it, but you didn't sing karaoke night, either. You don't sing."
"Is there a question in there somewhere?" Shooting her a look, she rolled her eyes. "Yeah, okay, I don't sing. What about it?"
"I'm just surprised. I can only imagine you have a lovely voice." You could, you had, and with the way her voice was gravelly from sleep, you just knew she had a good singing voice.
"Well, you'd be wrong. I'm like a dying cat when I sing." You kept her gaze, wondering if she was going to say more, because you really didn't believe her. You weren't going to push, you weren't going to ask for more, but you figured there was something a little more to it than her apparently having a bad voice.
Santana pretend like you weren't looking at her, looking everywhere but you, just reaffirming your belief that there was more going on.
"Shame, you would be a catch if you could," you teased, trying to ease things. Santana let out a bark of laughter in return and shot you a look.
"I would be a catch?" she repeated, and you grinned back at her, loving that she took the bait. "So I'm not a catch yet? I dedicate you songs, I performed for you, I come to cheer you up when you're not well, and I'm smoking hot, but I'm not a catch?" Mirth was in her eyes, and you loved seeing the teasing smile on her lips as she shot the words at you.
"Not yet. You don't sing, you're not that great a kisser-" you began to explain, only to be cut off.
"Oh, blasphemy! And you liar! I'm an amazing kisser," Santana argued, waving her hand.
"You think?" you teased, trying to be serious.
"You know I am."
"I might have forgotten," you replied, shrugging, but subtly moving a little bit closer to her.
"Oh, well, that's easily solved."
Smiling into the kiss, you reached out, your hand finding her waist, and hers finding your cheek, kissing her between the smiles. But like always, with each kiss with Santana, the potency of it knocked the smile off your face, and had your body moving closer to hers on instinct.
You wanted to get closer, to be the air in her lungs, the words on her tongue, and the hair gripped between her fingers as her body moved in ecstasy. But this was just a kiss, a kiss with the promise of all that, but still just a kiss.
Santana's whimper as she moved to lean over you, pushing you onto your back, set you alight, and god, you gasped between kisses, feeling her fire through your body and ignite you from the inside out.
And just like that, she seemed to flip a switch, and the heat was dissipated with each calming kiss, that had gone from fire, potency and euphoria, to gentle, sweet, and a promise of one day.
"You have no idea how much I'd love to keep going, but I need to go. I don't want to kiss and run, but I have to get to the station. I still have some of my set to sort out, and find my records. You could come, though?" Only after she said the words did she realise how they sounded, and the smirk that grew on her face had you laughing and shaking your head.
"I think its safer if I stay and the rest, but I'll be listening."
Leaning back over you, Santana cupped your cheeks in her hand and leant forward to kiss you again, her lips so soft, pulling you in deeper, reigniting that fire somewhat, before starving it of oxygen and shutting it down.
"I'll see you tomorrow, and if you need anything, feel free to text me. Obviously, I won't be of any use during my set, but I can bully someone into getting whatever it is you need and bringing it to you. So please, get in touch," Santana explained as she crawled off the bed You reached out to her, holding her hand in yours and giving it a squeeze in thanks.
"Stay safe, and I'll see you tomorrow, " you replied, smiling softly at her.
Santana nodded, giving you one last look, before heading for the door. She left you West Wing, to keep you occupied, and tomorrow she'd be back with more snacks for you. Until then, you were to rest.
Given there was an hour or so before her set, you curled up further in bed, with the hopes of a short nap, one that won't let the nightmares in, before waking for her set.
*0*0*
You did wake in time, and with a glance over at Kitty's bed, you saw she had returned at some point, and was sleeping soundly. To be sure not to wake her, you put your headphones in, and got the app set up to listen.
After the intro jingle for the radio station, you were welcomed by Santana's voice, and knew the next few hours were going to be great.
"Welcome everyone, I'm Rosario Cruz and I will be your port of call for the next four hours. Let's kick things off with Senses Working Overtime by XTC. I originally had another song lined up to kick things off, but I couldn't stop singing the chorus on my way over. That's all thanks to Lucy Q who had my senses working overtime not that long ago, and please no rude comments on the Facebook page about that. Anyway, enjoy!"
Hey hey,the clouds are whey,
There's straw for the donkeys
And the innocents can all sleep safely
All sleep safely.
My my, sun is pie
There's fodder for the cannons
And the guilty ones can all sleep safely
All sleep safely.
And all the world is football shaped,
It's just for me to kick in space
And I can see, hear, smell, touch, taste
And I've got one, two, three, four, five senses working overtime
Trying to take this all in,
I've got one, two, three, four, five senses working overtime
Trying to taste the difference 'tween the lemons and limes
The pain and the pleasure and
The church bells softly chime...
She was singing on the way over. Singing.
If you were singing on the way over, then I think you might be quite a catch. You sent her, and not a second later, she'd replied.
Turns out I'm a catch.
You smiled, and shook your head, because you just knew you'd most likely never hear her sing, but hell, she was singing, so that was something.
For the rest of the set, you found new songs that you liked, learnt of new bands, and as always, Santana was keen to discuss the era these songs were from, what they meant in the broader terms, and what to listen out for in the songs. It made for enjoyable and easy listening.
Of course, it had to end, and you needed to try and get some sleep as much as she did, so with the eagerly awaited last song about to play, you lay at the ready, curious to see what it was going to be.
"We're ending tonight's set, or this morning's, on a personal favourite," Santana began, and one day you'd tease her about how many favourites she seemed to have. "To see us out, we have The Supremes, with Can't Hurry Love. Have to say, it's very true, but I think I've done my waiting and everything's coming to fruition. Leaving it on that note, it's goodnight from me, and good morning to you. See you tomorrow!"
I need love, love to ease my mind,
I need to find, find someone to call mine,
But mama said you can't hurry love,
No you just have to wait,
She said love don't come easy,
It's a game of give and take.
You can't hurry love,
No, you just have to wait,
You gotta trust, give it time,
No matter how long it takes;
But how many heartaches must I stand
Before I find a love to let me live again.
Right now the only thing that keeps me hanging on,
When I feel my strength, yeah, it's almost gone,
I remember mama said,
You can't hurry love,
No you just have to wait,
She said love don't come easy,
It's a game of give and take.
Santana's words rang through your mind as the song played, and you sat stumped. Everything was coming to fruition.
Did that mean she loved you? Did that mean she was falling in love with you? Did that mean you two were actually together now?
There was an obvious need for clarity, and while you didn't want to rush things, your feeling for Santana, and her feelings for you, were leading to the obvious. You two should officially start dating, and just see where things go.
You certainly couldn't foresee why there would be any issues with that. Everything was coming to fruition, after all.
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