Author's note: A bad apology, yes, but school is killing me. Luckily, weekends are for sleeping in. Another apology for any weirdly constructed sentences, typos or errors. Wrote it in the middle of the night again and was anxious to publish, so the proofreading will probably take place in the morning.
Also, who's excited about the Valentine's day Quinntana rumours? I know I am.
Somehow, without being thoroughly aware of what she was signing up for, Santana had agreed to meet up with Brittany over an awkward phone call, or at least that's what it was for one of them. In her defense, who could say no to the ditzy blonde and her sweet tone of plea? Santana could almost feel her pouting like a kid on the other end of the phone, baby blue eyes full of hope. Besides, she kept repeating to herself, hanging out also gave her the chance to clear the air, and possibly give another explanation as to how Brittany had ended up with Sam, of all people.
She sighed. She twitched. She paced the room. She ended up in front of a mirror, facing a pale ghost of once so radiant latina. Her tired expression was a sign of a sleepless night, during which many scenarios ran through her mind and countless what if's took over. The guilt for breaking up with Brittany wouldn't stop haunting her. Santana even got to the point where building a time machine and cursing out her past self didn't seem like that bad of an idea. Naturally, she deemed it 'pathetic' after a few cups of coffee in the morning.
A small smile spread across the tired features as her mind drifted back to the time machine idea. One thing was for sure, if she were to go back, the old Santana would most definitely give her a piece of mind. And luckily, the current Santana would be mature enough not to take it. She wasn't going to use 'Snixx's' ways to get Brittany back. Making her cheat on Artie, however successful, had been a low blow.
With the buzzing of her phone in the depths of her purse came another deep sigh, and she reverted her eyes to the clock to see what it was about.
''Shoot.''
That simple word was followed by a sprint downstairs and to her car, which she almost crashed in great rush. The snow didn't help her case, either. Another buzz. With one hand gripping the steering wheel, she fished the cell out with various curse words accompanying her actions. Finally managing to hit 'accept call', she was greeted by Quinn's cheery 'hello' instead of Brittany's inquiry as to where she was. The reply wasn't as upbeat.
''Next time pick a moment worse than this, I double dare you. In case of this godforsaken car crashing, you're to blame.''
''Oh, right, and who are you going to blame for making you drive in a freaking blizzard, Santana? Sane people stay at home. But then again, I wouldn't use you and sane in the same sentence. What, are you on an adventure? Look out for Swiper, gay Dora.'' Quinn's tone gave off the vibe of extreme self-content, even though Santana wasn't amused in the slightest bit.
''Fuck off, Fabgay. I do what I want. It's better than staying inside with your ten cats and a suppressed girl craving. Speaking of which, I can suggest some good lesbian porn movies to help you out on this one. Good friends don't let friends jerk off to bad porn.''
''First of all, you disgust me. Second of all, I don't have a lady cr-''
''Yeah, yeah. You're as straight as a ruler and blah blah. Don't accept my friendly gesture then. What'd you want anyway? I'm in a rush to start step one of winning back Brittany.''
She had to check the phone screen to make sure Quinn didn't hang up, but instead maintained a long pause. Santana was one second away from thinking the ninjas kidnapped her when the blonde finally spoke, voice a few octaves lower, playfulness suddenly gone.
''Oh.'' Was it disappointment? Surprise? ''Then I shouldn't slow you down. Have fun on your date.''
''Don-''
''We all know what happens if you use your phone while driving. Texting or not, it's still dangerous. I'm hanging up on you now.''
Before getting the chance to protest, she was cut off by the annoying beeps against her ear. What bugged Santana even more than not getting the last word, was Quinn's sudden change of mood upon mentions of Brittany. Another mystery was added to Santana's pile of questions, and once again, it looked like her mind wasn't going to get rest anytime soon. Until that, though, she had to get through the meetup.
''I'm so glad you made it, San. I was worried about Frosty the Snowman eating you,'' squealed Brittany, capturing her friend in a warm embrace that made Santana's heart hammer. To her disappointment, Britt let go a moment later and she had to reluctantly follow her into the familiar kitchen where a picnic blanket was already set. Hot chocolate and cookies, just like the old times. Just like when the pair ran back to Brittany's house after a cheer practice, wearing nothing but the cheerios uniform and a jacket. Ms. Pierce then made them hot beverages and the girls chatted away until the late evening hours that often ended in non-sexual sleepovers, Santana always being the big spoon. Of all things, she'd missed the blonde's warmth against her and the adorable snores that left her throat.
''Say what now, Frosty the Snowman turned evil?'' she quirked an eyebrow, taking a cross-legged position on the floor. The serious nod coming from Brittany made the corners of her mouth rise up and her best friend's lips mirrored the smile.
''That's what auntie says. I wanted to make snow angels with Sam the other day, but she told me that, so I didn't go. I can't believe the friendly newsman isn't warning people!'' the blonde exclaimed with worry, then calming a bit after Santana's reassuring words.
''I sure hope they will... So, how have you been? Have you met any cute unicorns or bicorns?''
''I wasn't really looking.''
''Kay.''
Both girls remained silent after the short reply, one not bothering to uphold the conversation and the other chewing on her cookie. Little did Santana know, she shouldn't have raised the cup of hot cocoa to her lips the exact moment Brittany decided to interrogate.
''Are you in love with Quinn?''
The hot sensation of the beverage burned her throat as she choked on the cocoa, Brittany eyeing her nervously. For a brief moment, all of the oxygen supply was cut off from her brain and due to the deficiency of sleep, she was about to deeply regret her following words.
''What if I am?''
''I didn't think you'd find another unicorn so quickly.''
''Oh, don't be a hypocrite. What about you and Sam? You have no right to blame me.''
Her blunt response took Brittany aback, wiping the smile from her face.
''I wasn't blaming you!''
Unfortunately, much alike with the Hulk, Santana's temperamental dark side had already taken over before she knew it. Brittany's innocent tone only amplified the rage. She didn't intend to lash out on her like that, but she didn't want to keep things to herself any longer.
''Why didn't you call me?''
''San, I really don't t-''
''Why didn't you call me before the so-called apocalypse? You're supposed to love me, and instead you spent all day with Evans. What if it did happen? You didn't even want to say goodbye to me. Do you know how awesome it made me feel?''
''Please don't be m-''
''No, you don't get to say anything. You don't get to make me forgive you for moving on and then be upset that I have, too. You know what? I'm so done.''
She really did mean her words. With that, Santana grabbed her things and promptly left, staying blind to the apologetic look her outburst caused. Storming out into the wheezing wind without a jacket seemed reasonable at that instant, as the cold nipping on her cheeks and causing the shortness of breath was the only way for her to feel something. It was the only way for her to feel anything.
As much as it hurt to admit it, the sole way to survive the rest of the night without jumping off a bridge was either with the help of alcohol, or someone's company. Or both. She quickly contemplated all of her choices and settled for the person she tolerated the most, Quinn. The blonde had known about the snowstorm, so there was a possibility of her being home for the weekend. And that's exactly where Santana headed.
Once there, it simply took three knocks for the door to open. Without any second looks or asking for permission to enter, Santana slithered in, carelessly throwing her jacket onto a coat rack. She then turned around to face a disapproving Quinn, dressed in saggy clothes and sporting a tight ponytail. No matter how much her expression would deny it, Santana knew Quinn was grateful for her storming in. She was lonely, too.
''Well, you look... fresh,'' the dark-haired woman remarked, earning a grimace in response. As all aspiring beauty queens, Quinn didn't approve of the comments about her looks. Once a clutter of insecurities, always a clutter of insecurities.
''And you look like you weren't invited. Oh, that's probably because you weren't. Leave.''
Her friend didn't obey, only leant against the wall as a sign of silent protest.
''No need to be so crude when I'm genuinely trying to help. Doctor Oz said that drinking with your cats is dangerous for the sanity. Or in your case, the remainders of it. Besides, rubbing alcohol isn't going to get you drunk enough.''
''The things you learn on daily basis. Did he also say that I'm going to sprinkle you with the rubbing alcohol and then set you on fire if you keep talking? I was planning on drinking it, but roasting marshmallows on you sounds much more delightful than dealing with a hangover.''
''Plot twist, Christian belle Quinn Fabray skipped down the yellow brick road and fell into the psychopath canyon. What, oh what, did Yale do to you, Dorothy?''
''It taught me not to tolerate everyone's bullshit.''
The lack of retorts articulated thereafter seemed to cool the argument down. Few moments later, Quinn's shoulders lifted in a light shrug as she nonchalantly made her way to the barricade of pillows resting on the living room floor. It was a white flag for Santana, and she followed sans cautiousness to keep her distance. The spot she took next to Quinn left no distance inbetween, but neither complained about having their personal space intruded by another. Santana had her resting on Quinn's shoulder as an apology, and the blonde kept her arm delicately wrapped around the other girl's waist. For once, the silence didn't seem awkward, more so natural. Sharing it felt comforting.
''So what happened?'' Quinn asked half an hour later, all attention turned to the TV screen as if wanting to know was only an obligation, not a way to relieve her curiousness. She didn't expect an answer. Neverthless, it came as a sound resembling a whisper.
''We fought.''
Quinn's ''alright'' marked the end of the brief conversation. Another 30 minutes of later, the boring romantic comedy had lulled them to the verge of sleep. Right before drifting off, nose nuzzled into the blonde's neck, a soft voice graced Santana's ears for one last time. ''Love is just around the corner. I'm rooting for you.''
Later that night, she smiled in her sleep.