A/N: To those who've failed to understand the fic, I'm terribly sorry. I hope you do soon.
Here's chapter 4. This one's longer than the others.
Disclaimer: They belong to whoever they belong to.
It's Simple: Chapter 4
She moves in a little too aggressively and she feels a sting on her upper lip when her front teeth grazes against the back of it. Judging by the muffled yelp she hears from Brittany, Santana's willing to bet that the blonde had hurt her upper lip too.
Santana pulls away quickly and ducks her head, too embarrassed to meet Brittany's eyes.
How many trip ups can one person have in one day?
She waits. She waits for Brittany to crack a joke or say something wise or even for the woman to slap her.
Anything.
But there's nothing but silence from Brittany and Santana takes it as her queue to say something. The thing is, she has absolutely no clue what to say,
so she settles for what she's been doing for the whole day now; apologising.
"I-I'm sorry. I didn't even know why I did that," she shakes her head disapprovingly at herself.
Then it comes. She feels it before she hears it and Brittany's laughing. The blonde begins to laugh without any restrictions; guffawing and it's confusing. Santana doesn't know what's so funny and could only stare at the thoroughly amused blonde with knitted brows, though she really couldn't deny that it was infectious and that she was glad for the sudden shift of atmosphere.
The sides of her lips are twitching and she's trying her best not to smile when she asks, "what's so funny?"
It causes Brittany to pause and look at her before she starts laughing again.
The laughing goes on for awhile and Santana's confusion and amusement turns into anger when it dawns on her that Brittany might be laughing at her.
"Stop laughing!" She demands, slamming the heel of her palm onto the seat and causing the entire bench to shake.
It catches Brittany's attention and the girl stops laughing although she wasn't able to keeps her lips from spreading into a wide smile. She looks at Santana, eyes watery from all the laughing and mocks, "Is this your first kiss?"
The tiny ember at the pit of Santana stomach explodes. She could feel her cheeks heating up from both humiliation and anger.
Was Brittany laughing at her?
With a hard glare locked on Brittany, Santana moves her feet, heel scratching against the apex of the backrest and seat to interlock behind Brittany's back and bringing them closer.
Brittany gasps when she slides down the seat from the bold urging of Santana's feet and her chest presses against Santana.
It's lustful and Brittany's eyes are brimming with anticipation and it's just as she wants it to be. She begins to lean in, determined to show Brittany just how much of a first kiss this wasn't, until she feels the bench begin to tremble and shake and before they knew it, they're free falling backwards.
The bench had edged off it's hinges and was now falling back onto the grassy ground behind them.
Contrary to the anger she had felt earlier, Santana's first instinct was to protect Brittany.
She moves to engulf Brittany's head into a hug, pressing the sides of their faces together and interlocking her hands behind the woman's head so she wouldn't hurt it.
The moment of impact was a loud crash and the result of Santana's instinctive protective streak was the knocking of her forehead onto the ground with a loud thud which Brittany hears and hurries to check.
Santana's eyes were screwed shut and at first it was only her forehead that was stinging but then it quickly becomes her entire head and she's quickly reminded of her illness.
This can't be good for brain cancer.
There's so much pain and pounding in her head she feels it all the way to the neck and it's all she can hear, until Brittany squeaks a, "shit San, are you okay?"
Then she's running her fingers all over her face, circling the part of her forehead where it hurts the most and Santana, even with all the pounding in her head, could pick up the tremble in her voice that says that the blonde is crying.
The pain quells almost as quickly as her heart swells.
The first thing that she feels she should do isn't even to tell Brittany that she has brain cancer and that they should head back to the hospital instantly, the first thing that she feels she should do is to lighten the mood and stop Brittany's tears from escaping.
She cracks her right eye open -because she had hit the left side of her forehead and she really can't open her left eye just yet- and realises that she's not too late yet. Brittany's eyes were brimming with tears still yet unshed and she was determined to prevent those precious tears from actually dropping, so she smiles, she feels her mouth quivering and she feels weak but she makes sure to keep her lips stretched as much as she can and looks at the girl.
"Dandy" She tries, hating how it had come out so much weaker than she had intended it to be; which was not weak at all.
Brittany stalls for awhile before huffing in relief and smiling. Her blue eyes are shining with it's usual child like vigour again and Santana's relieved as well.
Wanting so desperately to keep it that way, she fights to keep her eyes open and mind sober and says, "August the twelfth."
She watches Brittany's eyes widen and even as her vision gets hazier and it's getting harder to stay sober, she registers the look Brittany was giving her. It's THAT look. The look that Brittany keeps giving her; that one look that confuses her to no end.
It doesn't really matter now though.
All that matters now is making Brittany happy.
"0812," she tries to smile but her lips twitches upwards instead, "that's your passcode.
The last thing she sees and through marred vision at that, is the lone tear that escapes Brittany's right eye.
The next time she wakes up, her head's resting on a soft soft pillow and it's peaceful.
Peaceful like the whole day has been; peaceful like it hasn't been for the many days before this.
Her head's throbbing and her forehead's stinging but it isn't so bad when your hair's tugging a little and your scalp's being massaged. Someone's running their fingers through her hair gently and it feels so good.
"Mmm," she hums.
The hand stops it's ministrations and her brows furrow, only for her to gasp in pain when her forehead stretches and a sharp pain hits her like an alarm clock, shocking the sleep out of her completely.
"Ow," she scrunches up her nose and lifts her hand to touch the part of he forehead where it hurts.
"Don't," she hears and feels a warm hand encircle her wrist, stopping her from touching her wound. Her heart begins to throb rapidly from the touch and she can now smell a faint scent of oranges.
It's then that it dwells upon her who she's with.
Santana opens her eyes quickly -or as quickly as her sore face would allow. The first thing she sees is Brittany's blue eyes and the immaculate white teeth from her beautiful smile.
The sky's a dark canvas behind the woman. Before she was the sun, now she's the moon.
Santana smiles.
Because it's great to wake up to Brittany. She only wishes she had all her life to do it.
"Hey," she breathes, throat scratchy from her sleep, and probably from the fall from earlier as well.
Brittany giggles and scrunches up her nose adorably, making Santana's chest swell with nothing but adoration for the woman.
"Hey deformed sleepy head."
Her face falls and she looks at Brittany with an expression that was a mixture of confusion and disgust.
"DEFORMED?"
Brittany pulls the edges of her lips down from her smile in a way that showed more of her lower teeth in a guilty smile.
"Yeah," she sucks in a long hissing breath through her teeth, "you fell on your forehead and it's bumpy and... gross."
She couldn't help but be offended, albiet only slightly. After all, the only reason for the wound she now has on her head and -she prays isn't the case- possibly the awakening of Mr Tumour up there in her head was because she needed to protect Brittany.
She rolls her eyes, squinting from the pain it gave her and laments, "It happened only because I wanted to protect you."
Brittany's face softens, brows pulling upwards, lips pressing together and she sighs through her nose, shaking her head while doing so.
"I know," she whispers, tracing the pad of her fingers gently from Santana's forehead down to the woman's jaw. Blue eyes follow the trail of her fingers before darting back to Santana's eyes and the sudden movement causes the latina's breath to hitch.
"You keep doing that. Stop it. You don't have to do that."
Fingers lingering at her jawline.
Not that she minded though, if she could have her way, she'd want to feel Brittany's touch for the whole of her miserably short eternity.
"I can't stop," is all she can say, though truthfully, she can't really recall any other time she'd risked her life for Brittany.
It's after a few seconds of silence that she feels a sudden weight on her stomach, like someone, or something pounced onto her.
Something, big. And she thinks she might have an idea what it is.
"Is that Tubby..." She deadpans, not having to crane her neck to see the entity to know what it is.
Brittany rolls her eyes in the way she had clearly picked up from Santana.
"He's not Tubby, he's just a little chubby."
"Exactly my point. Lord Tubby-ton."
"It's Tubbing-Ton," Brittany corrects, frankly sounding a little enraged.
"Alright, alright, Lord Chubbington."
"Hey!" Brittany scolds, slapping the woman's arm and jerking her knee, signalling for her to get up.
The sudden movement gives Santana a sharp pain in her head and she flinches.
"Shit I'm sorry it slipped my mind it's just you kept making fun of my cat and I don't like it," Brittany rushes to explain herself and tend to the pain Santana was obviously feeling.
Santana manages to sit up straight with a little help from Brittany who hurries to lift the feline off her abdomen and support her back.
"It's okay," she grunts, opening and closing her eyes to get the dizziness away, "you did help me up. So it's okay."
Brittany covers her mouth with her hand and giggles, like a little child. While Santana would have rolled her eyes and waved the person off if they did so, the action suited Brittany perfectly. She doesn't know how the woman's able to be so childlike at one time and then be so wise the next.
"What?" She asks, lips twitching upwards along with Brittany's amused giggles.
Brittany looks up from ducking her head and covering her mouth.
"Why are you being so polite? It's so unlike you."
"It is? It's normal to be polite to strangers isn't it?" She supplies, watching Brittany with confusion.
"Strangers?" Brittany asks, hand slowly falling into her lap, her face mirroring it.
"Fr-friends?"
"Friends," the woman breathes, eyes darting from one brown eye to the other, studying Santana.
Then she looks at Santana with that look. That look that spells disappointment and whole lot of sadness and Santana's momentarily stunned.
She doesn't know why Brittany's looking at her that way but it's unnerving because it makes her feel almost... Inadequate.
So she tears away from Brittany's searching eyes because it's making her head hurt more, to survey the area. It catches her attention, the fact that they were no longer at the park because it was no longer a wide expanse of green grass and trees. There's a house behind them; a classic bungalow with a small front porch.
It's brown with odd circular windows and a swing right at the porch.
It definitely wasn't one of your regular houses, but Santana liked it instantly.
It felt, homey.
"That your house?" She asks, still looking at it.
Brittany's hesitation was obvious and Santana picks it up but chooses to ignore it.
"Ye-yeah it's m-my house," there's trembling in her voice and Santana's chest constricts.
She really hates it when Brittany's sad. There isn't anything she can do, however.
"It's really nice. Feels homey."
"Thanks. I didn't design it though."
Santana's head turns over so quickly, her head begins to throb again. But she doesn't care because, shit. They were at Brittany's house.
Brittany's house where her family resides. If they were found here like this, it would undoubtedly cause some tension to arise between Brittany and her spouse.
As much as Santana wanted Brittany, she cared more about Brittany being happy. And happy wouldn't be what Brittany would feel if her family falls apart.
(Also she refuses to be the whore that screws familips u[.)
She gulps and begins to fumble around, trying to get up.
"Wh-what are you doing?" Brittany asks, flustered and worried at the woman's sudden reaction.
"I'm leaving," she says, keeping her voice as strong as she possibly can.
"Why?"
Santana refuses to look up at Brittany and instead twists around to look for the shoes that were no longer on her feet.
"Where are my shoes," she mutters, sight beginning to blur.
"San?"
"Come on, come on, where are my fucking shoes."
"SANTANA," Brittany practically shouts and it was loud. Loud enough for it to echo through the empty streets of the neighbourhood and come ringing back into Santana's ear.
She hesitates but when Santana finally looks up, Brittany asks yet again, "what are you doing?"
"I'm leaving, Brittany," she all but snarls her name.
Before, Brittany made her feel everything one could possibly feel that's positive. Everything from excitement, to mesmerisation, to happiness and even as she might try her hardest, it's deniable that she's falling for Brittany. Fast. Hard.
But right at this instance, she feels angry.
She feels angry and sad, but mostly angry. Because Brittany's jeopardising her family ties just for a day of fun with a girl she knows wouldn't live long.
Family first and foremost, that's the mark of a good person.
Right now, Santana doesn't think Brittany's any good.
"Why?" It's soft, like Brittany already knows.
"Because you're married Brittany. You're married and we can't... We can't do this," she gestures between them.
Brittany flashes her a look of hurt that's surprisingly hard as well and she holds it.
"Who says I'm married," she almost flinches while saying.
Santana's eyes drift down to the woman's left hand where she knows a silver band would be around a third finger and remains silent.
For the first time ever since knowing of it's existence, she realises that there's a long inscription on the silver band and her curiosity gets the better of her.
She daringly reaches out for the woman's left hand and brings it up to her face, so she could read the inscription clearly.
I'D CROSS THE MOUNTAINS AND THE SEAS, MY -
It cuts off and no matter how much she turns the ring around there isn't a continuation on the ring.
It's weird. Because she feels she should know how the sentence ends.
Her chest hurts. Her head hurts.
Her chest and head hurts.
Why did Brittany possess the power to make her so pained?
"There's a cliche inscription on the ring and you dare deny you're married?"
Brittany's glare is strong and her eyes a burning blue ember when she suggests, "cliche?" she raises an eyebrow, "let's play a game of truth or dare and maybe you'll find out if I am married."
A GAME.
"How could you play a game at-"
"Just, do it."
They have a round of the infamous stare-down for awhile before Santana huffs with resignation.
She doesn't even know why she'd gone on with the stare down with Brittany. She wouldn't have lasted a minute with Brittany's intense blue eyes.
"Fine, fine. But first, where are my shoes?"
She begins to rummage around the yellow cloth they were on.
"Check under the cloth?" Brittany suggested and Santana shifts to do so.
The yellow blanket covers her head as she ducks under it. Her eyes scan the little bit of ground she could see and just as spots the head of her black flats, Brittany ducks under as well and their eyes meet.
She's stunned because there's a weird feeling swirling in her tummy.
Brittany with a yellow cloth above her head, Brittany with a yellow tint on her face, Brittany with yellow accentuating her freckles and making her eyes pop. The way Brittany looks under the overcast of the yellow cloth is causing a tornado to form in her stomach.
She looked... She looked the best one could possibly look under yellow.
"Did you cover me with a blanket just now?" She asks, blowing a little bit of air into the tiny tent they've created, lifting the blanket a little and exposing Brittany's left hand.
The ring catches her eye. But she can't fathom as to why it does.
Because it's shiny?
Brittany's shakes her head, "No. No I didn't."
"Oh. I could've sworn you did," she mutters, mind somewhere else.
When she refocuses on Brittany, the girl's looking at her like that again.
The look with the glint in her blue eyes. The look that she'd seen on her face countless times and yet, the look that she couldn't help but feel annoyed about not being able to decipher.
"Why are you-"
"Starting with the questions already San?" Brittany cuts in with a smirk, "told you. The truth or dare will do you good."
Santana reaches for her black flats, grabs them and hurries out from under the cloth.
"Yeah. Whatever. Come on."
She couldn't deny though. Truth or dare would do great at answering the questions she has.
Since there were a lot of questions.
They settle at the brown couch of Brittany's living room that Santana practically falls into. The couch was just the amount of soft and dense a couch should be.
"You have an amazing couch," she sighs, closing her eyes and relaxing.
She hears Brittany padding back and when she opens her eyes, sees that the blonde already had a blue and maroon mug in her hand.
Whatever is in the cup, smells incredible.
Santana's senses perks.
"Making yourself at home already?"
"Whatever, what's in the cup?" She asks, craning her neck to look over the cup.
"Hot chocolate."
It did smell like hot chocolate but with a tinge of something else...
"Cinnamon?"
"Yes," Brittany giggles, "cinnamon."
"How did you make it so fast?" Santana hadn't even heard Brittany walk away, all she heard was the woman walking back.
"Oh, a whole pot of it stays there from the morning. I heated it after I brought you back from the park. All I did was put a little swirl of whipped cream and lit it up."
Santana picks up the cup and takes a cautious sip, thinking it would be hot. But it wasn't. It was of perfect temperature and it was probably the best hot chocolate she's ever hadn't
"You must be a wonderful mum," she says, looking over the cup at the woman who was sitting on a less comfortable wooden chair opposite her. She must have pulled it over just for Santana's convenience because it was at an uncanny position.
"It don't know how to make it."
Santana's heart sinks and she hides it by taking another sip of her wonderful cup of hot chocolate.
"Then you must have a wonderful husband? Or... Wife?"
"Nice try Dr. Watson."
"Dr. Watson?"
Brittany smirks like Santana has fallen right into her trap. "Because you're clearly not Sherlock."
It makes Santana laugh and the air from Santana's laugh sends the swirl of whipped cream flying off her cup onto the glass table in front of her.
"Oh, shit."
She wants to apologise, but Brittany's guffawing and she can't help but join in.
The sky's dark, darker than it was when they were laying outside and Santana just wants to leave and let Brittany have her life back.
"Okay, let's get this over and done with," she says, putting her mug down onto a coaster that said 'McKinley High Gleek'
"You always being in a rush to leave kinda hurts," Brittany says airily, making it seem nonchalant but her eyes betray this demeanour she's trying to pull.
Santana sighs and settles into the couch, making herself comfortable.
"I'm not- Let's just start. It's not like we have anything else to do anyways."
"We do," Brittany counters, blue eyes growing darker and lips turning up a little at the right.
Santana gulps and thanks whoever she can for her dark skin.
"W-we can do that after we're done with the game and your ring turns out to be a friendship ring. Although I suspect you might be in love with the other person wearing the other ring."
Brittany chuckles, eyes no longer a dark blue.
"Okay. It's a deal."
Santana smirks.
"Deal."
When Brittany reaches to the back of her shorts and whips out her phone, Santana gets the feeling that she has just fallen into another one of Brittany's ingenious ploys and she wonders about the possibilities of getting out of it.
Brittany places the device flat on the glass table, turns the device towards her and then pulls her hand back, showing no intention of unlocking her phone by herself.
With trembling hands, Santana reaches out for the phone, presses reluctantly on the home button and holds her breath as the number pad slides up from the bottom of the screen.
"I gave you hot chocolate, so I get to choose who begins the game first, and I choose you."
Santana's reluctant and on the brink of protesting but says, "okay..."
"Okay," Brittany begins, "I dare you to unlock my phone."
"I-"
"Are you game?" Brittany cuts in, challenging the Latina.
It's but a simple threat, but it strikes Santana like a thunder rod somewhere and suddenly it doesn't FEEL like a simple threat at all.
"Game..." She nods.
0 8... She glides her finger across the screen of the iPhone. Santana dares a look upwards, meeting Brittany's eyes before continuing, 1...
...2
With a familiar 'click' the display of the phone switches over to one where a few apps populate a picture of two hands, interlaced at the pinky and touching at the thumb.
A promise.
She looks at the picture for awhile trying to figure out why it looked so... uncanny. The picture looked... Coloured.
"I have a spin the bottle app," Brittany says, pulling the woman out of her reverie.
Santana tilts her head back up and scrunches her eyes up before opening them again.
Her head was beginning to hurt.
Brittany reaches over and taps an app with a glass coke bottle as it's icon and it opens up looking exactly as she thought it would look like.
A simple coke glass bottle, laying on a wooden table.
Santana laughs mockingly, exhaling sharply through her nose and gives Brittany the, 'really?' Look.
"What?" The woman reacts, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly, "I like playing truth or dare."
"Clearly."
"Whatever."
Brittany reaches over and makes an arc on the screen of her phone, sending the phone into a spiral.
They watch in anticipation as the bottle spins and spins and spins.
"Cap picks the answerer," Brittany says.
Finally, the bottle ends with it's cap pointing directly at Santana.
She huffs.
"Is this rigged?"
"Ha ha," Brittany fake laughs, "you wish. Truth or dare?"
"Truth."
She wouldn't do a dare. Santana's pretty sure Brittany's capable of thinking up ridiculous things.
"How did you figure out my passcode?"
"I saw it on the dashboard of your car. The side where there's a compartment," Santana lied. Truthfully, Santana isn't really sure. She thinks she might have caught Brittany unlocking her phone from before and that's probably how she had picked up on it.
"Yeah," she repeats, "saw it somewhere." As if to reassure herself.
The look Brittany gives her is dubious and Santana avoids Brittany's eyes because she feels almost transparent under the woman's glare.
"sure..." Brittany drawls, trying to recall if she had indeed written or pasted her passcode on the dashboard. The probabilities are high.
"Spin it," the blonde orders, jerking her head towards the phone.
Santana does as instructed, drawing an arc like Brittany had earlier and watches as the bottle begins to spin.
This time, the tip of the bottle points to the side; where neither of them were sitting.
"It's closer to you," Santana quickly says, "your turn."
Brittany opens her mouth to protest at first, then shrugs.
"Okay."
"Truth or dare?"
Brittany smirks, "dare."
"Britt. You-" she begins to whine but Brittany shakes her head.
"There's a tactic to every game. In scissors paper stone it's figuring out a pattern in your opponent and in truth or dare, well, it's not giving the person what they want. So, dare."
Somehow, Santana was rather awed by the woman.
Deciding that it would benefit neither of them if she continues to whine
-knowing Brittany's odd sense of wisdom would render her speechless as usual- she makes the most out of it.
"Fine. Take your top off for the rest of the game."
It stuns her at first; how bold she was, but then Brittany's looking at her with wide eyes and a bashful blush and all she's doing is shrugging and smirking like Brittany KEEPS doing.
"An eye for an eye Britt. An eye for an eye."
Brittany tries to roll her eyes begrudgingly but she's still blushing and simpering and Santana gets the feeling that she actually wants to do it.
Santana finds out that Brittany's a super stripper. The woman had taken less than a second for her hoodie to slip up her head and be thrown to the floor.
Santana also discovers that Brittany's body is unreal. The woman's flat abdomen had a defined line that disappears somewhere near the dip of her belly button and it makes her want to know where it actually ends.
"Wipe the drool off you face San."
"What? I-" she shakes her head, gulping and running her palm down her jeans because her palm's sweaty and she's beginning to get tingly.
"Come on, truth or dare San?"
She tears her eyes reluctantly from the unbelievable sight in front of her, looks down to the phone and sees that the bottle was pointing to her again. Yeah, the app's clearly rigged.
"Dare."
"Dare?"
She knows she'd fumble through the question if Brittany were to shoot her another question. Her mind's too filled with... Other things. Thoughts she'd never admit to anyone about having.
Especially not Brittany.
"I dare you to kiss me again."
Santana regrets her decision the moment Brittany declares her dare. She'd rather fumble through a question and be a total perverse idiot.
"Game? Or no game?" The blonde asks when Santana shows no intention of moving.
Again, the question jolts her nerves and for some reason whatsoever, she finds that she's unable to say no. It's like second nature.
Gathering her courage and wiping the perspiration of her palms onto her jeans, she lifts herself off the couch.
It wasn't that she didn't want to kiss Brittany. It's just that she feels she shouldn't kiss Brittany.
Everything's out like a deck of neatly placed, upturned cards; clear and undeniable. It's clear that Brittany's out of her mind and it's clear that she shouldn't kiss Brittany, although she has attempted it before. It's clear that Brittany's obviously married and it's clear that she shouldn't kiss Brittany.
It's clear that she shouldn't kiss Brittany but as she nears the woman, watching the blue eyes that were darkening and following her every move as she approaches, she feels her body begin to push what's right away.
It's clear that she shouldn't kiss Brittany, but she flings her right leg over the woman's thighs and settles straddling them anyways.
It's clear that she shouldn't kiss Brittany, but her hands have found purchase on the sides of Brittany's neck and the woman's rapid pulse and defined jaw line is all she can feel.
It's clear that she shouldn't love Brittany, but she does.
Santana sees Brittany's lips spread into a small smile and realises that the woman's smiling into the kiss.
When one is able to smile into a kiss, how could it be wrong?
She kisses Brittany properly this time, making sure to be gentle as she moves in, sighing with satisfaction as the tips of their lips touch lightly and there's no sharp pain behind them.
The deck of cards were now strewn to the floor along side Brittany's pink hoodie.
The next few seconds are everything Santana thinks a kiss should be.
She parts her lips a little and moves in to give Brittany a fuller kiss, dragging her lower lip across Brittany's until the woman's upper lip is trapped between both of hers before moving her head back, releasing the pressure of their lips and avoiding the woman's sharp nose as she turns her head to the left, pivoting on the soft pink skin and enjoying the way their lips cling onto the other and creasing.
Their mouths are agape when Santana begins to move the other parts of her body, pulling her shoulders up to her ears and hooking her ankles on the back legs of the chair, pulling their bodies closer.
This time, Brittany reciprocates, she moves to show that Santana isn't the only one involved in the kiss.
Santana gasps, sucking in a deep breath when she feels cold hands slide into the back of her jeans and under her underwear.
"Wha-what are you doing?" She breathes, eyes still closed and lungs still sucking in deep breaths of Brittany air as if it's a necessity.
"Shut up and kiss me," Brittany demands softly and kneads the flesh in her hands.
Santana lets out a high pitched squeak and subsequently let's go of the last thread of sanity she feels she has left.
She moves back in, emboldened.
This time, she drags her tongue across Brittany's lower lip daringly and the woman sucks the muscle in her mouth without a second's worth of hesitation.
Santana's eyes roll to the back of her head when she's inundated with Brittany's taste. It's everything she had imagined and more.
Now all her senses are filled with all that's Brittany and she never wants the feeling to stop.
Touch, smell, taste and..
She opens her eyes.
Brittany's eyes are already open and she's looking at Santana in the way she always does that confuses Santana. The problem about that look was: it makes Santana's heart pound like nothing ever does and it makes Santana yearn to see it time and time and again.
...Sight.
The kiss was all non-existent fireworks, tingling nerves, butterflies, thumping hearts and every princesses's fairytale kiss come true and Santana finds that she's no longer able to control her feelings towards Brittany.
The confession's at the tip of her tongue, when the door begins to click like someone's turning a key in it's lock and Brittany springs into action like it has happened countless times before.
Brittany practically lifts Santana off herself, grabs the woman's hand and darts to the back of the wooden staircase where there's a secret compartment. Like a storeroom of sorts.
The door clicks shut to a deafening silence.
"Brittany? What's wrong? Is your spouse back?" Santana panics, whispering as fast and quietly as she can.
Brittany remains silent, leaving Santana to her nerves.
"Britt.." She whispers harshly, not daring to move.
An old hanging bulb statics to life all of a sudden and it turns out that the woman was too preoccupied with searching for the switch to turn the lights on, to answer the countless amount of questions Santana was firing at her.
Santana realises the room consisted of much lesser space than she had initially predicted because with Brittany looking up at the lightbulb, the perfume she's wearing permeates Santana's nose; so strong that it stings.
The lightbulb flickers on and off and on and off and Santana watches as Brittany fiddles with the string that turns it on, trying to keep the light on. With on last pull, Brittany's lower lip hiding behind her teeth from the upper row, the lightbulb finally stops flickering but is stuck at a perpetual dull.
Satisfied, Brittany turns back to face Santana, giggling as the tips of their nose graze against each other.
The failing light bulb casts a faint glow on the right side of Brittany's face and the effect it has on the blonde is almost ethereal.
There's padding of feet just out the door and a teenager's voice shouts, "anybody home? There's two cups of hot chocolates on the table and I'm quite sure it belongs to you mum!"
Santana snorts because Brittany is married. She even has a child.
She's stuck and in love with a married woman, who has a child.
Double whammy much?
Santana doesn't even find it in herself to feel hurt anymore. Still, that doesn't mean that her heart isn't palpitating so fervently in her chest that she's afraid Brittany could hear it.
"So you are married then?"
The blue eyes begin to sparkle and then the glint is back. Brittany's giving Santana the look again.
"Are you sure you want to ask that question? You've only got one question left" Brittany states, the side of her eye creasing as the only sign that she's smiling. Grinning actually, Santana thinks.
"We're still on truth and dare," she observes matter-of-factly, looking at Brittany to see if the woman was being serious.
When Brittany doesn't answer straight away, she sighs through her nose.
"No, what I really want to ask is, why do you keep looking at me like..."
Her nose itches when Brittany tilts her head to the side in that adorable questioning motion and reveals half of her left eye as well. There's no doubt now, the way Brittany's looking at her.
"Like what?"
"Like I mean the freaking world to you."
Brittany continues to look at her, gaze unwavering before moving forward slowly and before Santana could say anything, she's got her lips pressed up against Santana's and all the woman could do is close her eyes and revel in the wonderful feeling Brittany gives her.
Brittany pulls back with a wet pop and whispers against plump lips, "cause you do."
Her heart skips a beat before it's leaping against the insides of her rib-cage, yearning to fall into the very grasps of Brittany. Santana knows she shouldn't be so happy, but she was, elated; freaking ecstatic and she feels like she's about to faint.
And she was, until the door to their hiding place yanks open and the elusive duo is introduced to well functioning light again.
She turns her head and after her eyes adjust to the sudden invasion of light, she sees the brunette with Brittany's blue eyes looking up at them with brows pulled together. Dolphin. The girl from Brittany's phone.
"Shit," she curses, feet inching to slide between the teenager and the wall, dart out of the house and never look back. But she feels Brittany grip her hand and give it a little yank as if to say 'stay'
So she does and she can't say isn't glad she did because the brunette turns to Brittany and looks the woman up and down "first of all mom," she lifts a single amused brow at Brittany's half naked state, "kinky navy blue bra."
Then she turns to look at Santana and she realises just how much her blue eyes resembled Brittany's when they begin to dart back and forth between her own, much like Brittany's had earlier.
Then, to the latina's surprise, Dolphin's eyes begins to water and her lips spreads into a bright bright smile and Santana's heart swells because it feels like it should.
"I've missed you. Welcome home again, Mami."
So chapter 4 isn't the end. Turns out chapter 5 is. 4 isn't even a nice number anyways. HAHHA. No, IKid, I couldn't finish it.
Hope I didn't bore you, have a nice day (: