Santana sits by the window in her apartment, overlooking the city. The cloudy weather makes everything look shadowed and gloomy as people rush about trying to avoid the storm that's brewing. She starts, as she hears the loud banging on her front door. The sound echoes throughout the hallow walls of her apartment.
She sighs and steels herself for whatever awaits her. Dragging her feet, she makes her way over to the door and opens it. She's greeted by the sight of Quinn standing there, furious, still wearing her dress from the night before.
"Hi," Santana whispers meekly.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Quinn pushes past the darker haired girl into her apartment. She waits for her to close the door before continuing. "So are you going to give me an explanation for last night or what?"
"I left you a note…"
"Yeah and the note said 'sorry, something came up,' it's not exactly an explanation."
"Look, Quinn, you said something last night that made me realize that things between us aren't as simple as I would like to believe."
"What could I possibly say that's so bad that it would make you walk out on me?"
"It wasn't like that—"
"Then what was it like, Santana."
The darker haired girl sighs, "I don't know if we should do this right now."
"Just fucking tell me."
"Okay… When we got back to the hotel room, you told me you loved me."
Quinn looks at her incredulously, "So the first thing that comes to your head is to just abandon ship and leave me there by myself?" She pauses, deciding to tread carefully. "Besides, I could've just meant as a friend."
"You didn't."
The blonde girl sighs in exasperation. "Why couldn't you just let it go then? I was drunk! Pretend like I never said anything about anything. That's what a normal person would do… Especially if…" A sharp pain shoots through her stomach as the realization dawns on Quinn. "…They don't feel the same way."
Seeing the hurt in Quinn's expression, Santana tries to grab her arm but the blonde girl pushes her away. "It's not like that either, Q. Why couldn't you just tell me before?"
"Really? Then what is it like Santana? And how about because I knew this is how you'd react? That you'd push me away. How about because I wanted you in my life even if it meant that I couldn't have you the way I wanted you? I knew you weren't ready to hear it."
"…I care about you."
The words hurt more than comfort. "Not good enough."
The darker haired girl shakes her head, trying again. "I didn't think it would be fair if I just ignored your feelings and pretended it didn't happen. I didn't realize that I was hurting you—"
"So how is this better?" Quinn's eyes fill with tears, realizing she isn't going to get the answer she wants.
Santana pauses, trying to think of a way to make things better but coming up short. "I don't want to lose you either, Quinn. You're one of the most important things—"
"Stop it. Just fucking stop it. You wanted to get into this so let's do it… I love you. Is that what you want to hear?"
The Latina doesn't answer.
"You're a hypocrite, Santana! What do you want from me? You don't want to ignore the problem but you don't want to talk about it either… If you don't love me just tell me so I can move on."
Fighting back the tears, she turns to meet Santana's eyes. Under her gaze, she sees the darker haired girl flinch, shifting her confidence.
"You can't say it can you?"
"Look, maybe things would be different if we met at a different point in our lives… Just, it's complicated…" Now it's her turn to avoid the blonde's gaze. She steadies her jaw, hating the feeling of hurting the girl she cares about.
Santana's unwillingness to say the words give Quinn the courage to give it one last try as she prepares for what she's about to say next. "We wouldn't work if we had met in the future. I'd be that girl who pretends everything's all right when it isn't and you'd be too far gone by then, completely shut off from everyone else. And we wouldn't have worked if we met in the past, we'd both be too young and wrapped up in ourselves, and the rest of our shit. We work together now. Even though it's hard… This is how it's supposed to be. I'll stay in New York and we can just be together."
Quinn trembles slightly feeling the weight of her words, meanwhile trying to gauge the other girl's reaction. When she isn't able to make out Santana's expression, a little pang of fear shoots through her but she quiets it so she can finish. When she continues, there's an earnest pleading in her voice as she tries to make the other girl understand.
"I'm not talking about forever… but I'm talking about a real relationship where we're the only two people involved and the rest of the world doesn't matter. The type of relationship that normal people have, we can have that. Where we see each other as much as we can despite the hours we work, and when we go to bed every night, it's in each other's arms, or at least thinking about one another. And even though it might not seem like much, it's enough for us because we love each other... Don't you want that, San? I want that for us." As she finishes, her voice cracks, suddenly sounding scared and vulnerable. The following seconds that pass in the wake of them, feeling like hours.
"Quinn." And the way Santana says it, it all sounds so final.
The blonde girl can't hold back the tears anymore as she lets herself cry, the feeling cutting like a knife into her side so that she has to hold herself up with her arm. And as soon as the pain hits, the anger that follows is immediate. The blonde girl slaps her, hard. "I hate you…" The words come out in between choked back sobs. "I hate you so much." The tears don't stop but before she can say anything else Santana grabs her arms before the girl can hit her again.
Santana's head is reeling. The sight of the girl in front of her makes her hurt more than she could ever imagine. Her heart breaks with the ache of knowing she's the one responsible, only she doesn't know how to fix it. "Q, stop…" So instead of fixing, she tries to distract the both of them, not realizing her words until they've already left her mouth. "If you don't leave right now, I'm going to fuck you."
Feeling Quinn hesitate, she pushes her lips against hers, running her hands along her body. The kisses are deep and hungry. The taste of her salty tears mixed in with her chapstick makes each one of them bittersweet. It takes a few moments before Quinn's body reacts to hers and when it does, Santana grabs her by her thighs and sets her on the dining room table. The blonde girl arches her back as she feels the other girls' lips against her neck, causing her heart to beat frantically. The darker haired girl slides her hands under her dress, tracing her fingertips along her inner thigh, watching the girl shiver under her touch. The feeling of them causing Quinn's body to radiate heat in the places that she needs her the most. Santana stops suddenly as a questioning look crosses her face. Quinn's eyes shoot open in realization.
"Santana, don't," she pleads but the darker haired girl has already lifted up her dress as she inspects the scars on her inner thigh. Even though they're healed, the pain behind the cuts linger.
"Quinn." And this time as Santana says it, her voice is soft and full of hurt.
"It was a long time ago… I was stupid then…" The blonde girl says, a feeling of shame washing over her. The darker haired girl shakes her head before grabbing her by the hand and leading her to her bedroom.
"Take off your dress," Santana tells her as she removes her top and her jeans.
The blonde hesitates, fear overtaking her for more than one reason. "Haley…"
"That's over… We broke up before the wedding." Santana makes her way to the edge of the bed, leaning back on her elbows. "Take off your dress."
"Why?"
"She didn't want me to go… Now take off your dress."
Trembling, she finally does as she's told, revealing the lace undergarments underneath. Her hands make a feeble attempt at covering herself up, feeling a little too vulnerable underneath the girl's piercing gaze.
"Stop that. Come here." Quinn walks over to her, averting her eyes. "Look at me." Green meets Santana's dark brown. "The scars don't matter to me… You're beautiful." She runs her fingertips along the girl's forearm before pulling her down to the bed. The green eyes fill with sorrow at her words but their trust is implicit. This time when Santana kisses her, it's filled with longing. A longing to give the girl what she needs but since she can't, it's a longing that she feels all the way down to her bones.
Santana's kisses cover her scars along her inner thigh, working themselves toward Quinn's sex. The kisses saying all the things that the brown eyed girl can't bring herself to say. Things that scare her. Instead, she loses herself in Quinn. Blonde hair that smells of lavender versus Santana's vanilla. Smooth, honey skin beneath her caramel. Natural pink lips against her swollen red. Her fingers and tongue creating a steady rhythm. Quinn's heat controlled by Santana's cool, steady hand. Perfect complements. The rhythm increasing… Faster… Faster… Until their desire blossoms into ecstasy, a sex haze settling over them. Exhaustion setting in as they allow the haze to overcome them, still high off one another; finally giving themselves over to sleep.
Only this time when Santana wakes, it's her who's left alone.
[\\]
"So, that's it then?" Brittany looks at her friend in confusion as she recounts the story.
"I guess so." Santana sighs and takes another sip of her vodka.
"San…" The blonde looks at her sadly, knowing that her words will hurt her friend. "One day very soon one of you is going to get tired of running... Only you've been running ever since I can remember… Do you really think Quinn ever stood a chance? Did you really think she would be able to keep up with you?"
The darker haired girl throws back the rest of her drink and slams it down onto the bar. "Fuck you." She walks away, letting Britt's words sink in. Feeling their truth underneath the sting.
As she's about to leave the bar, she sees a girl staring at her from across the room. She meets the girl's gaze, deciding to take her home. They fall onto her bed, hands working quickly. Santana kisses along the girl's skin as she tries to get out of her own head. She moves her hands along the girl's body, working her up like she's done to so many girls before her. But this time, somehow, it's wrong. The girl doesn't taste like the girl in her memory. Her skin doesn't carry the same heat. The smell of lavender is replaced by strawberries, which despite being her favorite fruit, makes her feel sick. Sick to her stomach. She's not Quinn. The other girl feels Santana's body freeze above her own and flips her over so she's on top. Before she has a chance to go down on her, Santana stops her.
"I can't do this. I'm sorry," she tries to hide the disgust in her voice, not wanting to hurt the girl's feelings. "Please, leave." She faces away from the girl. Only when she hears the front door of her apartment slam does she give herself over to her feelings. The pain and disgust wash over her, the familiar feeling leaving her empty. Only this time, she knows the reason, and it's a realization that hits her a little too late. The words she couldn't bring herself to say only hours earlier haunting her, digging the knife in a little deeper with each recitation. The hurt look on the other girl's face because of their absence.
I love you, too.
But they're hollow words, ones that exist only in her head. With no one there to say them to, their existence a mere figment of her imagination. Her body grows weary, shutting down as she cries herself to sleep, like she's done so many nights before.