"Hypocrite!"
Grinning, Santana grabbed up the discarded jacket off the floor. It had clearly missed the hook just above on the wall. Not bothering to hang the garment, wanting evidence, she carried it with her into the kitchen. Rachel stood at the stove, finishing up their dinner.
With a smirk, she dropped the jacket onto the counter, leaning over it smugly as she peered at the back of her girlfriend's head.
"You really shouldn't leave your things lying around, especially articles of clothing. It's very hazardous," she recited the words spoken to her so often.
"It's one jacket, Santana." The voice was even and the words plain. It was unusual for the small, wordy girl, but Santana couldn't let it go because come on, how many opportunities did she get for something like this?
"That's all it takes. It starts with one and multiplies exponentially until the floor is lost beneath a swamp of fabric and trash and-"
"It's one jacket!"
Santana froze, eyes snapping up from the jacket to take in the tense back before her. Damn. Something really wasn't right.
"Babe...?" she began softly, hesitantly.
There was a silence where Rachel stood still over the cooling food. Slowly, she turned to reveal slightly red eyes and some fresh tears. Santana's heart instantly gripped with concern.
"Rache, what's-"
"I didn't get the part," she cut in, sounding defeated.
Santana sighed but opened her arms. "Com'ere, Baby," she murmured, Rachel shuffling over to be wrapped up in an embrace. "I thought you hated the play?" she asked, gently rubbing the girl's back.
"That's not the point!" Rachel huffed weakly. Santana could tell Rachel had probably been struggling with this all day.
"I know. I know. But, I mean, you've gotten the lead in so many productions since near the beginning of your freshman year, that I've lost count. Losing one role isn't bad. And if you hate the play, you shouldn't be going for the part anyways." Santana knew this would do little to console her girlfriend, but she also knew it was a good start.
"It's not about how many roles I've gotten. It's the fact that I lost the part to someone else. And liking the play doesn't matter. Once I get out of school I won't have the luxury of seeking out the... the monumental roles. I'll have to go for whatever I can. I'll need to get work." Yeah, she's definitely been thinking on this the whole day.
"You're amazing, Rachel. You shouldn't ever have to settle for a part. You're good enough to get whatever part you want and you can make anyone see that. You know, this just means you'll have more time with me," she teased lightly, to which Rachel gave her a soft squeeze. "And you can relax a bit and sing for yourself rather than whatever play you've gotten yourself into."
Rachel sighed and slumped more into the taller form holding her, shaking her head. "I'll have to fight for whatever role I can get until I'm noticed." Her voice was quiet and tired.
Sighing, Santana pressed a kiss to Rachel's temple. "I was going to wait to tell you, but... I know what play the department's going to be working on next." Santana had some "connections" within the theatre department. It was all a random happenstance, which both Santana and Rachel found incredibly amusing. And convenient. Having friends who worked on organizing all things 'theatre' at the college, meant Santana would occasionally hear things before anyone else. Sometimes she could even bribe the information out of her friends(if Rachel bribed her first).
The pause being too long, Rachel pulled back to look up questioningly. Smiling warmly, Santana tucked a strand of hair behind the girl's ear. "Wicked."
Eyes widening, grip tightening, muscles pushing her to jump yet cling to her girlfriend at the same time, Rachel stood buzzing. "Really?"
Santana nodded. She had hoped to wait to tell Rachel. Tell her in some real special way. Like waiting until the girl was just about to tumble over the edge, screaming 'Wicked!' at a volume loud enough to rouse their neighbors. She thought that've been a damn special way to tell her... She figured this was good too. Rachel needed it. Besides, she was sure she'd be able to get that scream she so wanted some way... It would be too hot not to try.
"Yeah, and so now you can spend your time readying for the role of Elphaba and not worrying about some other stupid play. Get yourself all in the zone, or whatever. I still say you should relax a bit but, I know you and you'll want to jump right into it. So you see, it's a good thing you didn't get the part."
A grin was now stretching the small girl's face as she held back a high-pitched squeal. She could get the part. She could. And she'd have ample time to prepare and clear her mind and everything would be great.
Gripping Santana's cheeks, Rachel pulled her in for a passionate kiss. Santana wasn't sure if the passion was for the prospect of the future role she was sure to star as or her, but she didn't mind either way.
"This is fantastic!" Rachel finally let forth the shriek, pulling herself from her girlfriend's arms to pace the floor. "Oh my. This is fantastic. I don't know why I was so upset over that silly role before. It was nothing. Elphaba is more suited to me and my own personal wants and needs. I'll have all the time in the world to submerge myself into the role, gaining the unneeded advantage over any competition, and I'll snagged the role and... and who knows! Maybe I'll be so superb that I'm noticed by someone of worth and my path to stardom will be set!"
Santana just watched as the girl ranted to herself, shaking her head with affection. Reaching out and snatching Rachel's arm, she pulled her close. "I notice you," she spoke lowly. "Am I not of worth to you?"
"Oh of course you are, Sweetie!" Rachel exclaimed, missing the playful tone. "I only meant-"
A kiss to shut her up and another just for the heck of it. "I say we celebrate," she husked.
Rachel chuckled, easing in the arms about her. "I haven't gotten the role yet, Santana."
"But you will." She began placing kisses just under Rachel's ear.
"But I will," Rachel responded distractedly, hand weaving into dark hair as their dinner was quickly forgotten entirely.
Later that night, their neighbors would hear a single, seemingly out-of-place cry of 'Wicked!'. Santana was extremely happy(and smug) about this.