The next morning I woke up an hour before Santana. I propped myself up over her, and watched her sleep. She had turned some in the night, resulting in me waking up facing her. But my arms were still around her and somehow she had managed to not let go of my hand. I smiled.

She's really adorable when she's sleeping.

Being awake so much earlier than Santana gave me a lot of time to process the previous night's events. The one thing I knew to be true was that I couldn't stand it if she decided she couldn't spend as much time with me. I had to make it okay with her for us to continue acting as we always had. My thoughts drifted back to BreadStix, and it was all I could to keep the butterflies in my stomach in check when I remembered seeing that it was her behind me.

What the hell? Why do I keep flashing back to that?

After a while, I felt Santana stirring under me, and when I looked down, she was staring up at me with a very nervous smile on her face.

"Good morning, San," I said, with a smile. "How are ya feeling? I was going to get up to get you some water, but I didn't want to disturb your sleep, so I just stayed."

"Oh, thanks, no, I'm okay. Umm… what about you? What, I mean, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm totally fine, San. There is nothing for you to be worried about. Regardless of any unrequited feelings you have for me, I'm not going anywhere, and I won't let you go anywhere either."

Santana gave a half smile and mumbled, "Cool," as she abruptly rolled over and sat up on the edge of the bed, feet dangling. "Breakfast?" She asked, without even turning around.

"Yeah, sure. Sounds good."

We both got up and went downstairs. I sat at the table in the kitchen, while she pulled out some cereal, milk, bowls and spoons and brought it all to the table. After setting it all down, she turned back around and started a pot of coffee, all while avoiding eye contact.

I broke the silence. "Tell me what you're thinking."

She turned around to face me, expressing no real emotions on her face.

"I'm thinking that I wish this damn coffee pot would hurry up before I fall asleep standing up."

"No, San, give me some credit here. I know you better than you know yourself, and I can tell that something is really bothering you. Please talk to me."

"You really want to know what is going through my head?" I nodded, and she walked over to the table and pulled me to my feet by my elbow. She was slightly shorter than I, so she was looking up into my face, completely serious.

"I want to know what was going through your mind when you wrapped your arms around me last night. I want to know why I could feel your heartbeat speed up when I took your hand. I want to know why you…" She took a deep breath, "…why you won't accept the fact that you feel the same way about me as I do about you."

I was completely taken aback by her bold statements. This is not what I had expected. I gulped loudly, and my mind started racing for the answers to her questions.

Those are all good questions. I wish I knew the answers myself.

I stuttered for a moment, "I… I, I…" I stopped and took a deep breath. "I've never seen you so sad. I didn't want you to hurt. I was just trying to comfort you." My voice faded away as I said the last sentence, "I'm sorry if I shouldn't have…"

Santana rolled her eyes at me and turned back into the kitchen to fetch her coffee. She brought two mugs back to the table and poured her bowl of cereal. She looked at her food the whole time she was eating. I just looked at her.

"Aren't you going to eat?" she finally spat out at me.

I shrugged and grabbed the box of Lucky Charms and milk. We ate our breakfasts in complete silence, and when we were done, she returned everything to its place with the same disdain towards me that she had pulled it all out to begin with. When she was done, she just stood in the kitchen with both hands flat on the counter and her head bowed. At last, I saw a drop of water fall from her face onto the counter. I didn't know what to do, but I knew what had worked the night before. I stood up and walked towards her in the kitchen. She must have been completely zoned out, because when I went to give her a hug, she jumped back, not knowing I was there.

I took another step towards her, trying to hold her as I had done the previous night, but she pushed me away.

"Stop it, Brittany." Her tone of voice was completely static.

I took another step forward and said, "Oh come on, San. Did I do something wrong?"

"No! Don't hug me, don't come any closer to me, and don't call me San like that. You held me, like you felt something for me, and then made it really clear that the feelings were one-sided this morning. So just stop it."

She stopped talking, and I was completely taken aback. I just stared at her, wanting to comfort her because she was still crying. She was yelling all of this through her tears, and she was holding her stomach now, bending over with every utterance that came from her mouth.

"Can you stop staring at me? I can't think when you're staring at me."

I looked to the ground.

"Brittany, you have no idea how I feel right now, and having you here, having you being this close to me—teasing me—I just absolutely cannot deal with it right now. Get your stuff. I'm taking you home." She quieted down a little for the last outburst, but there was still so much sadness in her words.

"Santana, you can't really mean that. You told me you had feelings for me."

"I honestly don't know what I was thinking." she spat as she turned back towards the front of her house.

Please, Santana. Please don't shut me out!

I wanted to yell this at her with everything I had, but I knew it would make it worse. I dropped my gaze again and ran upstairs to her room, gathering the rest of my stuff and headed back downstairs. Santana was already in the driver's seat, with the music blaring and the car started when I went outside. I quietly opened the door and got in her car, not daring to look at her. The music barely drowned out the silence, but the pain in the car was tangible.

I hate that I do this to her.

She pulled into my driveway and I wanted to hug her goodbye, but thought better of it. As I got out, I turned and meekly asked, "Can I call you later?"

She didn't flinch. Her eyes remained glued to the steering wheel, and I knew I wasn't going to get a response from her. I simply nodded and walked to my front door. As I always do, just before stepping in, I turned back to smile at her.

Her car was already gone.