Shelter
Part One
Chapter Thirteen: What It Means To Win
Ships: Brittana with Sam/Brittany, Santofsky, Puck/Brittany, Quinntana friendships. Very minor Quick.
Summary: The only thing worse than being reaped is volunteering for someone you love. Because then they have something to use against you. Brittany and Santana learn that the hard way.
Other: This is a Hunger Games AU. Every chapter will be named after a line from a Glee song with contextual or sometimes more literal relevance to the chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or The Hunger Games.
Author's Note: Sorry it took so long. My beta sent this back almost a week ago, but my Internet is so shit right now...
Brittany ran her fingers over the silky peach material that was resting flat on her bed. Soft blue eyes rested on the fitted bodice before trailing down the long, flowing skirt of the dress. Her eyes, once again, caught on the tiny blue piece of paper that was clipped onto the garment bag beside the dress and she seemed to reread the words on it over and over again.
For the dinner this evening. I bet you'll look beautiful. See you tonight.
-S
It wasn't really anything special. She'd heard a dozen people call her beautiful since she arrived at the Capitol and about a dozen more back at home (not including her parents) who did the same. It was just a little note and it shouldn't make her feel as happy as it did.
But logic flew out the window the moment she saw the tiny heart doodle beside the 'S'. Maybe she was looking too much into it, but she was pretty sure that Santana loved her. She had said it countless times before Santana's whole self-sacrifice/fight-to-the-death incident three years prior and Brittany was sure that sometimes when they were just talking in Santana's room or when they were training, Santana wanted to say it.
It wasn't like some big secret or anything. Brittany loved Santana. Santana loved Brittany. It would be pretty simple if it wasn't for Brittany's self-sacrifice/fight-to-the-death incident. It would be so much easier if they were just back at home or in another world. Or at least Brittany liked to think so.
Anyway, it was pretty clear in Brittany's mind that Santana sent her this awesome dress that probably cost more than her whole house to wear at the Tribute dinner because she loved her so much. Brittany had forgotten about the dinner until she found the dress in her room after coming up from her latest weapons training session with Santana. Now that she thought about it, Santana was acting strangely throughout their exercises and seemed to scramble away towards her room just when Brittany was about to invite her into her own. She remembered that Santana would ask a few scattered questions about the dinner every few minutes but Brittany just shrugged them off, thinking she had a hell of a lot more time to worry about it.
When did a six weeks turn into two days? It felt like only yesterday that Brittany was watching the vast countryside landscape turn into the huge buildings of the Capitol from that speeding train. But in only forty-eight hours, Brittany would be in the arena. Santana had told her that this whole dinner thing was pretty nice. Apparently there was a lot of expensive food and desserts that Santana said were invented just for that dinner, and while desserts were some of Brittany's favourite things, she just couldn't get excited about it. Santana had told her that when she went, everyone was really nice to each other and it was good to feel normal for one night. That was probably the point of the whole thing.
It still felt pretty ridiculous to Brittany. She was supposed to have a nice dinner with a bunch of kids that she was going to try to kill two days later. It seemed like a horrible idea to her. It would be so much easier to just not show up and pretend that none of them exist or have families or weird habits or anything normal like that.
The dinner would provide her with a good opportunity to not only scope out the competition but to initiate 'Plan: Be Friends With Mike Chang So He Doesn't Kill You'. That was her main focus for the night. Well, that and to make sure that Jesse still liked her. That was pretty damn important too. Or at least that's what Santana said.
The rest of those kids would just fade away eventually, she had said. It was a chess match between Careers and their sponsors. All they cared about was making money and scaring the districts into submission. They were always successful. No one made any money or scared anyone by pulling for the underdog.
Brittany had said, at that point, that she was the underdog, to which Santana refuted with a series of well-supported arguments that Brittany really didn't listen to at all. She was the underdog. Most of Panem had probably already written her off to be dead by the first night. But she would prove them wrong. She had to.
With reluctance, Brittany left her room, carrying the dress with her and a pair of heels that looked horribly uncomfortable and impossible to walk in. Brittany made her way down the hall, past Dave and Mags' rooms, past Santana's room, and to the stylists' room.
Brittany didn't really feel like getting primped by her stylists today. She loved hearing Kurt babble about Capitol fashion so quickly that it sounded like he was speaking another tongue and listening to Mercedes make fun of people or sometimes sing in an effortless sort of way was awesome, but Rachel kind of annoyed her. Sure, she was Santana's friend and all, but there was just something about her that Brittany didn't like.
The door opened as soon as she stepped in front of the stylists' room.
"Brittany! I've been expecting you!" Rachel greeted her with a huge smile.
"Are you psychic?" Brittany deadpanned, tongue-in-cheek as Rachel pulled her into the room by her arm.
"I once bent a spoon with my mind, but I've tried mind-reading and it really isn't my forte," Rachel admitted, shaking her head.
Rachel went to shut the door behind her and as if she was clinging onto the hallway outside as a life raft, Brittany peered through the thin crack in the doorframe that only got smaller as Rachel pushed the door closed. Just before the door shut, a flash of dark chestnut hair swept along the tiny crack in the door and a small figure walked quickly down the hall.
Brittany mentally drew a map of the floor she had been living on for the past six weeks in her mind. There was only one more room on the floor past this one. It was Puck's. She wasn't sure why she had an odd feeling in her stomach, because Santana was Santana and she loved Brittany but something about Puck had been bothering Brittany.
It had been bothering her for a long time. It was the way he would switch between being happy after a training session to looking like he could jump off the roof (if he even knew it was there). It was the way Brittany could feel like he was watching her all the time but had no idea why. It was the way that even after they got in that huge fight that dissolved the alliance that Brittany hadn't known to even exist. She wasn't sure why Puck was acting so strangely, but she was sure of one thing. She didn't want him around Santana.
As the other Tributes began to wander amongst each other and introduce themselves, Brittany couldn't help but find herself alone. She knew that sometimes people used this dinner as a last minute opportunity to form alliances and that's what a lot of people were doing.
That's what Puck was doing. He was sitting in the far corner of the room with Artie and his district partner and was apparently vested in a very intriguing conversation, judging by his facial expressions and over-the-top gesturing. Maybe they were talking about her and their wicked plan to kill her before she got the chance to even do anything.
Brittany scanned around the room for any of the Careers, but despite Rachel's detailed drawings, she could not remember what they looked like, save Jesse. The curly-haired boy was sipping a glass of something really expensive and probably really strong and sitting in one of the end seats of the table, where the Careers usually sat, as Santana told her. He wasn't really doing much but watching the other Tributes, but the intense look on his face made Brittany stay standing at the door where she was and not approach him.
"Hey," Brittany heard an unfamiliar voice whisper from behind her. She whipped around in surprise and saw a tall, athletic boy with pitch black hair. She suddenly remembered him as 'Two-A' in Rachel's notes. He held out a strong hand in front of him and let it linger in the air. Brittany took it and shook the boy's hand. "You're Brittany, right? Jesse told me about you."
"Yeah," she responded right away and let go of his hand.
"Michael," he pointed at himself with his thumbs. "You can call me Mike. Nice to meet you."
"I'm Brittany," she replied quickly, before realizing that he had already said her name and flushing a light shade of pink. She avoided his face and instead chose to glance over Mike's outfit, with subtlety. He was wearing a black tuxedo that had slightly lighter lapels and a black bowtie. Brittany was sure that if she reached out to touch his jacket, she would feel expensive and soft velvet material.
"It's cool," Mike laughed, scuffing the toe of his shiny black dress shoes on the floor. "It's these things, you know. They get me all weird, too. I mean, I'm from District Two and I've never seen some of this food in my life."
"Imagine how I feel," Brittany nodded and her face lit up. "I think I ate a toothpick about ten minutes ago. I may be internally bleeding and something like that kind of ruins a girl's appetite."
Mike let out a raucous laugh and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Brittany thought that he looked, at that moment, like nothing more than a young boy. She felt regret and remorse for something that she hadn't even done yet in the back of her mind.
"You're pretty funny, Brittany," Mike commented.
He looked around at the rest of the Tributes, who either seemed very unnerved by the pair standing by the door or pretended not to notice and carried on with their conversations. Brittany had to admit that they were a really odd pair. One of the favourites to win standing with the girl that everyone dismissed as a goner within the first two minutes. And to top it all off, they were laughing and joking around. Brittany suddenly felt uncomfortable.
"Hey," Mike started off, looking as uncomfortable as Brittany felt. "I'm not so hungry either. We snuck some food from back home and I had the rest of it upstairs. Do you wanna get out of here and have some fun?"
"Uh," Brittany trailed off, not knowing what to say.
She knew she was supposed to be solidifying her alliances at this dinner and not running away to fool around. She could almost hear Santana scolding her about it. But then again, she was supposed to make friends with Mike. She could justify that getting out of that dinner and having some fun would help with the whole bonding thing. But she didn't want to disappoint Santana.
"Come on," Mike urged in a light, playful voice. "You know you want to."
Brittany knew that she really should not have been considering the idea as much as she was. She couldn't disappoint Santana. She promised to get back to her and that's what she was going to do. But at the back of Brittany's mind, she heard Santana's voice whispering about how it was her last chance to try and feel normal for one more night. Feeling normal would not come from sitting around at some really fancy and expensive table and eating really fancy and expensive food.
Brittany would do what she would have done back at home. Ditch to hang out and go swimming with Sam. Except instead of her best friend, it was this guy she just met that would possibly kill her in a few days. And instead of swimming… Well, she wasn't quite sure what exactly they were going to do. But, she didn't care. She would do it anyways. She was sure that Santana would want her to do it, too. Or at least, that's what she told herself to make her feel better.
"Okay," Brittany whispered with a growing smile.
They had been running around aimlessly, avoiding security guards and the questioning glances of a few brave Avoxes, for what seemed like either a lifetime or a minute. Brittany really wasn't sure which one. It was interesting, because oddly enough, it felt like both at the same time. They made their way down a long hallway and Brittany thought that if they ran any longer, her feet would fall off. Luckily, Mike stopped abruptly in front of a door that was slightly shorter than the rest in the huge building and swivelled his head, looking around the empty hallway. They were alone.
"I want to show you something," Mike said, as he pushed the door open.
He walked right into the room like he was walking into his home or something similar and gestured at Brittany to join him. The room was dark and the only light seemed to be coming from the tiny sliver of space between the door and the doorframe that Brittany was currently standing in. That tiny piece of light seemed to travel along the floor and up the far wall of the room. It was sketchy enough, going into a dark room with a Career, but Brittany followed Mike into the center of the room. After a few seconds of silence, an unfamiliar whirring sound was heard in the air and suddenly, the room was illuminated.
Brittany had never seen anything like it. The floor was covered in a glossy hardwood flooring from wall to wall. The far wall wasn't really a wall at all, but a giant mirror that stretched from corner to corner and floor to ceiling. In front of that wall, there was a sort of thick wooden bar held up by poles. It wasn't much really. It was a simple room, especially compared to the rest of the building. Something about it made Brittany's heart beat faster.
"Do you know what it is?" Mike spoke as he approached the bar and let his fingers drag over the smooth wood. Brittany shook her head and although Mike was not even turned to her, he seemed to know that she wouldn't answer. "It's a dance studio."
A dance studio. Brittany knew about dance. People (usually elderly people) would listen to music, sometimes slow and sometimes fast, and move together, in a dreamy sort of rhythm. It was a simple enough concept but for some strange reason it intimidated Brittany.
"We never had much free time back home, with all of our training, but whenever we did… My parents made me a room like this in our house. We told people it was for training. So I could check my form and stuff, you know?" Mike lightly knocked his fist on the wooden bar, nostalgically. "But my mom would wake me up earlier before school started sometimes and we'd go in the room and just… Sway. I started doing it by myself a little while later. It was almost like everything else faded away. You know what I mean?"
Brittany's mind jumped to that morning before the Reaping. She thought about floating in that water, staring up at the sun, and soaking everything in. It was so quiet. She had never noticed how quiet it used to be, but now she couldn't think of anything but.
"Yeah, I do," she replied, knowingly.
"I don't know what one of these is doing in a place like this. I heard they used to have a ball-type thing instead of a dinner so maybe they used this room to practice dancing. I don't really know. All I know is that when I heard that tonight was supposed to be about feeling normal for one last time, all I wanted to do is dance with my mom one more time."
Brittany wasn't Mike's mom, but she figured that maybe she could dance with him. If that's what Mike needed to do to feel normal, she would do it. She wasn't really sure why because she knew more than well that she would have to conspire against him in the arena. But for some reason, in that moment, she didn't want anything other than to make Mike feel normal.
"Do you want to dance with me?" Brittany asked, with a small smile.
Mike's face turned into one of hope and then one of embarrassment. The skin of his cheeks flushed a soft pink and he shook his head, looking down at his feet.
"I didn't mean… I was just saying," he mumbled.
When he scuffed his shiny black dress shoes on the hardwood flooring of the dance studio, Brittany thought that, although she had only known him a few minutes, he had never looked younger. With his pink cheeks, playfully styled hair, and quirking thin lips, he was the vision of a young boy. It was then that Brittany became painfully aware that he was not far off from one.
"How old are you?" Brittany asked, brazen.
"Seventeen," Mike replied. "I would turn eighteen in a few months."
"Would?" Brittany saw Mike's dark eyes meet hers and she was struck by visions of Santana. It wasn't that Mike looked like Santana because he didn't at all. It was his eyes. His sad brown eyes showed his sorrow and his defeat and most of all, the tiny glimmer of hope that he held. She recognized it right away. She was used to seeing it, after all.
"If everything works out," Mike said with allusion before his tone changed to darker and harsher. "Brittany, I want you to be honest for a second now."
Brittany nodded. Mike's eyes had turned cold as ice and Brittany shuddered. She had remembered seeing that in Santana once as well.
"Why did you come here with me?"
"I," Brittany found that her throat was dry. "I don't… I mean, you asked me, so-"
"You didn't have any other intentions when you came with me here?" Mike asked the question like he knew the answer and Brittany knew that he did. He threw his hands in the air and looked up at the ceiling like it didn't even exist. Brittany knew that he was looking up at the stars. He turned to Brittany and shook his head, defeated. "I thought that they took everything I had, but apparently they haven't yet. What is it that you want from me?"
"I don't know. I didn't… I just wanted to secure the alliance, that's all; I swear. I was going to make sure that we were friends so you won't kill me," Brittany admitted, tears now filling her eyes. "But then you brought me here and I started thinking about swimming and beaches and my best friend, Sam, and then I saw your eyes and I couldn't stop thinking of Sa- my mentor."
She stumbled on the last few words and Mike's cold eyes seemed to soften. Her explanation really didn't explain anything. She knew it was pretty pathetic. She was about to offer more, because she felt a terrible need to explain herself to the tall boy, when Mike spoke first.
"So it's true then. What they're saying about you and your mentor?"
"What are they saying about us?"
Brittany's mind was racing with thoughts of vicious rumours surrounding her and Santana. But mostly Santana. She remembered how she would walk around town in District Four and she would hear whispers of Santana's rumoured promiscuity. She remembered how much they hurt her and how Santana, on the rare times she would enter town, would walk with her head high and her eyes full of apprehension. She wondered if the brunette would wear the same expression upon hearing the rumours Mike spoke of.
"That she's seducing you for momentary pleasures," Mike said with a smirk. "Or at least that's what my mentor said."
Brittany felt anger bubble in the pit of her stomach.
"She's n-"
"She volunteered for you," Mike stated. "A few years ago."
"Yes," Brittany said, metaphorically puffing her chest out with pride for Santana. "She did and she won."
"And you're here now," Mike stated another obvious statement.
"I am," Brittany responded.
Mike nodded and didn't say anything else. For a while he just stood there, his eyes glued to the ceiling and searching for the stars.
"I'm sorry for snapping," Mike sighed. "Life just sucks, you know?"
Brittany thought to those late nights when Santana's tiny body was tucked inside her longer one. She thought about the way Santana would play with the tips of her long, golden hair, twirling them around dexterous fingers before letting them slip away. She thought about the feeling of Santana's hot, slow breath against her neck and the steady beating of her heart next to her own.
No, Brittany almost said. But then she remembered.
"Yeah, life sucks."
Mike let out a dry laugh. "I just wanted to dance. All I ever wanted was to dance."
"All I ever wanted," Brittany trailed off, not really wanting to say the words in front of Mike. It wasn't like she was ashamed. How could anyone be ashamed of Santana? No. But what she and Santana had was special and pure. She didn't want anyone to taint it.
So instead, she left her statement unfinished. But, something about his smile was too knowing. Oddly enough, Brittany didn't mind at all.
"I don't know much about dancing but…"
With a shy smile, Brittany held out her hand, awkwardly. She didn't really know the proper way for a girl to ask a boy to dance. The splitting smile on Mike's face told her that he understood exactly what her gesture meant. He took her hand and led her into the middle of the room.
And for a while, they just danced.
By the time Mike and Brittany had decided to go back to the dining hall, they were covered in a thin layer of sweat. She wasn't quite sure how long it was that they had been dancing for. It could've been five minutes or five hours but it all felt the same to her. She had felt more free in that paradoxically tiny, confined room than she had for a long time. She felt like Mike felt more free than he ever had in his life.
They walked down the hallway that they had arrived in, silently as opposed to their raucous running earlier that day, but when they reached the dining room they had seen that it was nearly empty. Only a few Tributes remained, mostly older ones and ones that looked desperate. Brittany guessed that they hadn't managed to secure any alliances.
As soon as they entered the room, they were greeted by looks of disapproval and judgements.
They left as soon as they came.
They were on the short walk to the main lobby when they spoke again.
"I won't kill you," Mike said.
"I won't either," Brittany sighed in admittance. "Unless we're the last two. I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Mike chuckled. "I'm not expecting to come out of this. I want to, but I'm being realistic."
As the wide hallway turned into a wider , extravagant lobby, Brittany caught the familiar figure of Santana walking in from the dark outside. She was wearing a skirt longer than what she usually wore and it brought Brittany momentary joy. It's not that Santana didn't look amazing in those tight, short clothes because she so did. But Brittany hated the way people looked at her. Everyone looked at her different but none of them looked at her the right way. Looks of lust and desire and jealousy shouldn't be given to Santana. She deserved so much better, the best even.
The sight of Santana brought a goofy smile to Brittany's face. She raised a hand to wave at the girl and Santana responded by mouthing the sentiment back to her, smiling shyly. Brittany turned to Mike with an apologetic smile.
"I should…" Brittany started.
"Yeah, I got you," Mike laughed. "I'm gonna go find Jesse. Or maybe Zizes. See you around."
Brittany knew that Mike had started walking away from her and she had a feeling that the raven-haired boy probably waved or shouted goodbye or something like that but she couldn't really process anything except for the beautiful girl that was smiling at her.
"I knew you'd look beautiful in that dress," Santana said, her eyes trailing up the length of Brittany's tall frame. Brittany could almost feel her eyes touching along her legs up her thighs and over the expanse of her stomach and her cheeks started to heat up. Santana's eyes snapped back up to Brittany's blue ones and Brittany laughed at the cocky grin that appeared on her face. "I was right, as usual. You look perfect."
"I think you look better," Brittany murmured.
"Agree to disagree," Santana smiled.
Her eyes seemed to flash into that same look Mike had when he was confronting Brittany earlier. Brittany was worried and started thinking about something she might've said or an expression that she might've worn on her face. She realized then that Santana wasn't looking at her but at somewhere behind her.
Brittany turned around and scanned the area behind her, looking for the target of Santana's stare. She didn't see anyone behind her except for Puck, Artie, and that girl from Artie's district. She thought that maybe it was Puck that Santana was looking at but wasn't quite sure why.
"Let's go upstairs," Santana nodded toward the elevator, with her eyes still on Puck.
Santana's fingers trailed down the inside of Brittany's arm, over her wrist, and across her palm until they laced themselves with Brittany's. Brittany smiled at the small, but still present, sign of affection and squeezed at Santana's darker hand. From the short walk to the elevator to the short ride up the elevator to the shorter walk to her room, Santana's hand never left Brittany's. Sure, everything was really, well, short, but something about the way that Santana let her thumb lazily stroke at Brittany's made Brittany feel like she would never stop, even if they had been walking for a hundred years. She didn't even let go when she had to open the door to her room.
Brittany kicked off her shoes and placed them carefully against the wall of the small foyer just like Santana liked. When Santana's boots were off her feet, Brittany took them from in front of Santana and lined them up beside her own.
"Thank you," Santana said, a luminous smile greeting Brittany when she looked up.
"Don't mention it," she murmured and bit the inside her cheek to keep from completely squealing at how adorable Santana looked. She shook thoughts of grabbing Santana's face and squeezing her cheeks out of her mind and went into Santana's bathroom to change. She picked a bag off the floor that she had stuffed with her most comfortable sleepwear that morning and dropped off at Santana's door. When she finished changing into her tiny shorts and tank-top and came out of the washroom, she saw that Santana was wearing the same thing, equally as flimsy and really really sexy.
"So what did you do while I was at the world's most boring dinner ever?"
Brittany jumped onto Santana's bed and fluffed the pillows so that she could get as comfortable as possible. They were still pretty fluffy from the day before when Brittany fluffed them because Santana never liked any of the cleaning staff to fix her bed or anything. She didn't even have them bring in new towels or wash her clothes. She did it all herself. Brittany wasn't sure the cleaning staff even had a key to Santana's room. She was super picky about stuff like that.
"Got you a present," Santana teased, now standing at the edge of the bed. "Did you fluff the pillows all nice?"
"Uh huh," Brittany nodded. She grasped at Santana's hand and pulled her down beside her onto the bed. They adjusted themselves so that they were facing each other and lying on their sides. "More presents?"
"More?" Santana repeated, raising her eyebrows. "I was not aware that I've given you any presents."
"The dress," Brittany clarified, picturing the expensive silky gown in her head. "The shoes. And all that jewellery that Rachel put on me before I left for the dinner. She told me that it was from you. All that stuff must have cost you like an arm."
"It was nothing," Santana shrugged off.
"It wasn't cheap, though," Brittany reasoned in a soft voice. She liked the stuff and all but she didn't need Santana to do all that for her. "You shouldn't spend your money on me like that."
"It was as much of a present for me as it was for you," Santana admitted, playing with the stretch of skin between Brittany's thumb and index finger. Brittany saw the beginnings of a grin at her lips. "Just without the intense discomfort of walking around in heels for me."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you looked beautiful. I told you that already," Santana said, in a light tone.
"Thank you," Brittany smiled. "But your compliments will not distract me, Santana Lopez. I believe I was promised a present?"
"I'm not sure it's what you're expecting," Santana chewed at the corner of her lip.
"Well, I'm not really expecting anything," Brittany fired back with a smile. "Just show me."
"Okay," Santana said, nervously. "I'm just warning you, it's nothing special so don't have like super high expectations."
She pulled it out of her back pocket. Brittany didn't know what it was at first because Santana was hiding it in her enclosed fist. Brittany gently pried open Santana's fingers to reveal something gold and rather dull. There was a tiny animal in the centre of it that Brittany didn't quite recognize and a tiny dog standing right underneath. They were both in the middle of a long vertical fish shape that reminded Brittany of some of the old church ruins on the edge of town where Districts Four and Five meet.
"I thought you could use it as your Tribute token," Santana said, softly. "I mean, if you don't already have one."
"I know that the fish is for our home and I know that's a dog… But what's this animal?" Brittany inspected the token with furrowed eyebrows and let her fingers run over the intricate texture of it.
"It's a boar. It's some kind of pig," Santana whispered. "I went to this guy in the Capitol and looked up family crests and stuff. Pierce had a boar on it."
Brittany almost wanted to cry just because Santana was so sweet.
"You know what it means?" Santana asked, drawing the blonde's eyes back to her.
"No," Brittany rasped.
"Fierce fighter. One that fights to the death. A long time ago, the boar was worn as a charm in battle to protect against injury." Santana ran her fingers over the tiny boar and they touched Brittany's. "I thought it was fitting."
"It's amazing. What's the dog for?"
"Oh," Santana's face suddenly turned red even though, the week before, she claimed that she couldn't really blush. "It's on mine. The Lopez crest had a dog on it. I just thought that you could use it to remember me in there."
"I like dogs," Brittany smiled, choosing to ignore Santana's obvious embarrassment. "What does a dog mean?"
"Courage, fidelity, and loyalty."
Brittany couldn't think of any three words to describe Santana better than those.
"It's funny how things work out sometimes, isn't it?" Brittany said, catching Santana's eyes once again. "I love it, Santana. Thank you."
"Will you wear it?" She was wearing that ridiculous puppy dog face again. As if Brittany would deny her in the first place. "In the arena? I bought a chain for it and everything. I would've made it like shiny but I didn't want the sun to reflect off of it and give you away or something."
"It's okay, Santana. Of course, I will. Proudly so," Brittany said, her voice full of emotion. "Do you have any idea what this means to me? Thank you so much."
Brittany smiled a watery smile and Santana's seemed to mirror it. She saw Santana reach across the bed and gently place her hand on Brittany's hip. She shuffled closer to Brittany so that they were lying with their foreheads touching.
"Long day, huh Britt-Britt? You should sleep," Santana whispered. Brittany nodded and closed her eyes. "Goodnight. I'll see you in the morning."
One that fights to the death. It was fitting. But then again, everyone would be fighting to the death.
Brittany hoped that Santana conveniently forgot to mention that boars also symbolized victory or something. Fighting wasn't enough. She knew that she needed to win.
So there is one more chapter in part one! Review :)
OH PS- I saw this story on a fic recommendation list on Tumblr and I freaked out. Like seriously, I think I screamed. So if you're out there, thank you.