Santana woke with a smile on her face, feeling warm, comfy, relaxed and really well rested. But best of all was the smile. Life hadn't been easy across the past years, and waking up with her body feeling so content that it had a smile on her face was foreign. It felt like she'd just reached an oasis after months in the desert, that she had found light after years spent in darkness. Santana really didn't want to be dramatic about it at all, but the fact was that smiling just hadn't been a natural response that she'd felt in a long time. At least, not until she saw Rachel the previous day.
It was also wonderfully nostalgic, waking up to a face full of hair, her nose embedded in Rachel's long, wavy brown locks. To passersby, it probably looked entirely strange and uncomfortable, but she kind of enjoyed the unorthodox position they routinely had found themselves in. It made Santana's memory flash back to all the times she'd been forced to watch Funny Girl, or at least she endured it for the diva's sake. After a while it had become Rachel's sad day movie, and that meant supporting the diva as much as she could. And if that allowed her to pretend to doze off in the middle of the film, so be it.
Because honestly, it was a playful reaction. Initially, she'd pretended to fall asleep to try and raise the diva's ire, but Rachel had simply snuggled closer. Which, honestly, had been kind of awesome; she'd more or less just get to hold Rachel and straight up fall asleep, which allowed her a heck of a lot of quality beauty sleep. It quickly became their Funny Girl routine, probably her favourite routine while she lived at the apartment. Even when, every time, she'd wake up with a face full of hair and Rachel laying on her back, on top of Santana, clutching her hands and holding them around the diva's waist securely.
It was something of a guilty pleasure; Santana knew Rachel was straight, and that she obviously couldn't try anything, but that sort of friendly intimacy was kind of wonderful. So waking up in the airport, she couldn't help but be both unsurprised and amused that they found themselves in the same position. Sure, Santana had always wondered how Rachel never got a crick in her neck, considering the girl's head always rested on Santana's chin or collarbone, or neck, instead of her much softer and more cushiony breasts. Then again, Rachel had always been a little quirky.
So Santana lay there, enjoying the feeling, knowing she likely wouldn't wake up like that again in her life. It wasn't long until she felt Rachel's breathing change, the diva moving around on top of her a little bit, seemingly trying to get comfier. Santana took the opportunity to plant an innocent kiss to the girl's temple before slipping out from under the diva as quickly and gently as possible, hoping it would make the waking process easier on Rachel. Instead, the diva stubbornly reached out for her, Santana almost grazed by the girl's lazily flailing fingers. It seemed that Rachel wasn't quite ready to get up, despite their ample sleep. It wasn't entirely uncommon for Santana to see Rachel wake past six in the morning; over time, the girl tended to gravitate toward waking closer to seven, like sane human beings. And sometimes, after a long night of dancing, drinking, rehearsing or other activities, the diva would sleep in.
Santana blushed at the giggle that escaped her lips at the sight of Rachel's petulant pout; the diva was still blindly reaching for her, and seemingly getting more upset the longer she went without contact. One part of her mind was screaming at her to just go back and let her latch onto her again like a parasite, but the other knew that Rachel would be grumpy without breakfast, and would be flustered if she was delivered breakfast before she was done her morning routine, and Santana was just plain hungry. She checked her phone, seeing it was just shy of seven, further confirming her decision that it was time to wake up. Though Rachel, again, didn't seem convinced as she curled up into the fetal position under the blankets, frown marring her features. Rachel clearly wasn't satisfied with something, though Santana was sure the blankets were still warm enough.
She leaned over the other woman, deciding to take the initiative. "Rachel, it's time to wake up." She whispered, but found herself almost immediately wrangled and pulled down onto Rachel greedily as soon as the words spilled from her mouth.
Santana couldn't really make much sense of Rachel's stream of half-conscious gibberish, but she was pretty sure the words 'cold' and 'sleepy' were used multiple times. She entertained the diva and let Rachel reposition them until their bodies were pressed against each other, Santana on top of the blankets, and Rachel beneath them. She felt the smaller woman give a light squeeze in apparent thanks, and she wasn't about to complain. She liked relaxing with Rachel. She liked how affectionate the diva was, it made her feel a little warm and fuzzy inside. But she couldn't help but laugh a little at her insistence on sleeping longer. Sure, it was wonderful, but it couldn't last forever, and she was just sparing them the extra disappointment. "Jeez, Rach, whatever happened to your rigorous six A.M. morning routine?" she asked, chuckling at the fact that for once, she was the one wanting to leave the bed. Of course, the bed was uncomfortable, aside from Rachel's part in it.
She felt a trademark Rachel Berry huff against her cheek. "Mmmtired of it. Santana snuggles are better." The diva mumbled, sounding entirely frustrated that she even had to answer that question. As if it were obvious.
"I have no doubt about that." She noted amusedly, using a free hand to muss up Rachel's hair. "I knew you were just using me for my cuddles." Her strategy was to annoy and surprise the diva into wakefulness. She knew Rachel hated people messing up her hair unless they were doing something nice like running their fingers through it.
This time, it was Rachel's turn to giggle, the melodic sound spilling from Berry's mouth. "I can't believe Santana Lopez just admitted to cuddling." Rachel noted in disbelief, her voice thick with sleep despite her apparent grasp on the situation.
Santana decided to put her past insecurities aside, or at least some of her lingering high-school ones that Rachel had helped her combat in the time they lived together. "Well, there WAS a reason why I fell asleep at practically the same time every time we watched Funny Girl together."
It only took a few seconds for her words to sink in, and then Santana was knocked off of Rachel, the diva sitting up appearing entirely startled, shocked and perhaps slightly flattered. Santana watched at the other woman's eyes grew wide, a lithe finger pointing accusingly at her. "You…you snuggle baited me!" the diva yelled out, clearly shaken by the revelation that had just taken place.
It was too funny a reaction not to laugh. Because really, Rachel looked so utterly scandalized and her face was ridiculously red. It had been a long time since she'd seen that expression, and it was just nice to be able to cause that reaction once more. "I figured that would get you awake. Don't worry, though…I spoke only the truth, I'll only ever bait you with snuggles."
Santana didn't think it was possible, but Rachel's face only grew redder, the colour seeping down her neck, even. She figured she'd embarrassed the diva's relatively prudish sensibilities, so she backed off, deciding not to mention how her face resembled the paint job of a fire-truck. "You have a specific place in mind for breakfast?" she asked, after a few moments of silence, Rachel merely staring at her wide-eyed and still.
The diva let out a sigh and groaned, flopping back down onto their makeshift bed. "Staying in bed's out of the question?" Rachel asked weakly, and Santana had to fight from just going along with it. The other woman didn't look ridiculously sleep deprived, but she'd heard that Rachel had been having difficulties. If Rachel had gotten a good night's sleep for the first time in a long time, she'd do her best to ensure that she would be able to milk it for all it was worth.
"If by bed, you mean the hard marble floor as our box-spring, our coats as the mattress, and those two blankets as our sheets?" Santana asked speculatively, Rachel nodding shyly, hiding most of her face away against the pillow. She could only shake her head at the reaction, wishing she could sleep more, but her stomach was rumbling fiercely. "Sorry, but we really should just get up, even if it was pretty comfy in there."
Rachel let out another sad, resigned huff and started rummaging through her luggage, grabbing a moderately sized bag that Santana assumed was filled with hygiene products. Within seconds, the diva was marching off toward a nearby washroom, bag in hand.
Santana couldn't help but wonder when Rachel went from being a morning person to being a grump like herself. However, she was honestly still in too good of a mood to really seriously question it, and instead headed off to her destination.
Rachel stood in front of the mirror and sighed, again. She'd finished her routine ten minutes ago, and was entirely scared stiff at the prospect of going out and seeing Santana again, and Rachel couldn't help but blame herself.
There was a period in her first few months in New York that she realized that she'd have to remain a morning person despite her rigorous schedule, or just be normal like everyone else, allowing herself some extra time away from the intensity that NYADA added to her life. She'd eventually chosen the latter, and prayed constantly that no one would ever approach her when she was waking up, because a half-asleep Rachel Barbra Berry was much like drunken Rachel Barbra Berry. Entirely candid.
She cringed yet again at the vague memory of her grabbing after Santana, basically begging the taller woman to cuddle with her. She'd been absolutely, uncompromisingly pitiful, and it was difficult even considering leaving the washroom, she was so embarrassed. It was no wonder that Santana had laughed at her.
Sure, Rachel knew Santana was quite fond of affection; the girl had been starved from it by her parents, and that had left Brittany to take the responsibility during high-school. Still, though, she couldn't shake the worry that she'd made Santana tremendously uncomfortable, which seemed fairly obvious by how quickly the woman had escaped her clutches in their makeshift bed, and her insistence on the both of them waking up. It wasn't her intention to mess anything up. Rachel just didn't want that moment to end. She'd felt perfectly content just laying there with Santana, and truly didn't want to give that up until it was entirely necessary. Obviously, Santana didn't feel the same.
And it was doubtful that the delay would stretch into Christmas day, what with the snowfall easing up slightly. They'd be on their flight sometime today, and likely parting ways, unless either of them did something about it. All Rachel knew was that she absolutely couldn't handle a repeat of last time; she needed to stay friends with Santana, at the least. She didn't want to lose the woman who had once been her best friend, as strange as that sounded, given their history. Yet, she likely had already lost her, given her behavior earlier in the morning. I just HAD to beg her to sleep longer with me…desperation's never been an attractive look on me, and Santana just couldn't WAIT to get up and away from me. It…it HURT. I just want to keep her close…I just want…well, I mean, I know I shouldn't, but I like her. I just hope that at least she'll be friendly. I don't think I could take the closed off, angry Santana from high-school. I just…I couldn't bear that.
Eventually, Rachel felt somewhat brave enough to face the music, so she willed herself out the washroom doors and into the halls of the airport, weaving her way toward their spot against their wall. For a moment, she almost felt a shred of confidence that everything would be fine, but her heart dropped at the lack of a tall, attractive, raven-haired singer-songwriter by their seemingly abandoned luggage.
And just like that, her fight and courage left her. It was almost comical how quickly Rachel found herself face-down against the pillow, feeling entirely dejected and lost. Halfheartedly she wondered if she should take out her laptop, maybe read the book she'd brought; Rachel knew that she needed to get her mind off of the fact that Santana could very well be gone, and she needed to get over that, but she didn't want to. She was too disappointed in herself and hurt to do anything but mope and weigh hypothetical options that she'd never choose in the coming hours.
It was after a short while, her mind bouncing back and forth between whether Santana would like the book she was reading, and whether she should listen to Santana's music on her laptop when Rachel felt a tap on her shoulder, immediately creating an unknown third option that was immediately far more appealing and potentially less traumatic. When she turned around and looked up, seeing a sleepy Santana, holding two delicious smelling bags, she couldn't help the bright smile that spread across her face. All thoughts in her mind were vanquished aside from 'Santana's here, and she brought food!'
Santana shot her a quick smile before plopping down next to her in their nook, using her guitar case as a back rest. Rachel eyed the bags, and watched amused as Santana sniffed both before handing one to Rachel. "Thanks, Santana. I was wondering where you ran off to." She noted quietly with a polite nod, thoughts from the washroom infiltrating her mind once more after seeing the brevity of the smile on the other woman's face.
The same face that dropped at her words, making Rachel feel even worse, that maybe she'd said something entirely wrong. "I'm, uh…sorry if I worried you, or whatever." Santana mumbled, sneaking a peek into her bag before shutting it. "I was really hungry, and I know you don't eat before your routine, and you hate cold breakfasts."
Rachel recovered quickly, trying not to care too much that Santana had apologized to her for perhaps the fourth time in her life. It was a rare occasion. Instead, she dissected the sentences, but just couldn't understand what had gotten the other woman so upset. "It's not a problem, I was just curious."
Santana shook her head defeatedly, ducking it as she lowered her food bag to the ground. "No, you were worried I ran off. I just…don't know why you'd think that. Or, well…"
"I thought I made you uncomfortable…you know, earlier." Rachel stammered out, not wanting Santana to feel bad. Inexplicably, she'd forgotten how Santana had often used breakfast as her main meal of the day; it only made sense that she'd be really hungry in the mornings. She watched as Santana looked her over, to discern if she was being serious. Rachel gave a small nod and an entirely too nervous smile.
Santana grinned at her, apparently finding humour in the situation, where Rachel could only feel awkward. "No, but you were kind of hilarious." The woman stated with an impish smile that went a fair ways to scatter her worries to the wind, but Rachel needed confirmation.
"Are you sure?" she asked, really needing Santana to be honest with her. She didn't want the woman to be uncomfortable around her.
The other woman nodded and her smile only spread further. "We're cool…it was kinda nice, anyway."
Rachel, taking that as enough of a reason to calm down, finally gave into the scent that had been attempting to overpower her nose throughout the short conversation. She peeked into the bag and saw that Santana, after all the years between them, still managed to remember her favourite breakfast. It was more than a little heartwarming that such information stuck with her friend. Though, perhaps it was because Santana had always teased her, often stating firmly that no one should have lunch food for breakfast, and that to do so was immoral and unethical.
She happily took the sandwich out of the bag, rotating it in her hands to see what all was in it. Rachel smiled at the fact that it was one of her favourite combinations. Grilled Portobello mushroom, red pepper and hummus sandwiches were hard to come by in stores, and she rarely gave herself the time to make such breakfasts most days, so it was a really nice treat to have one, especially in the confines of an airport. Rachel was pretty sure that Santana had special ordered it, because on their loop around the terminal looking for restaurants, she hadn't seen anything of the sort on any menus. Rachel took a small, glorious bite and savoured the wonderful flavours before blindly reaching once more into her bag, pulling out a vegan raspberry smoothie from one of the café's she'd pointed out the previous morning.
It was only after taking a long sip of her drink that she realized there was something else in her bag, noticing the faint weight remaining in it. Curious, she took a second look into the bag, spotting a smallish white cardboard box. Feeling a tiny bit suspicious, she pulled it out and looked over the nondescript box as Santana not so subtly looked on carefully.
Slowly, she lifted the box's lid and spotted something she never thought she'd see again in her lifetime. Truly, there looked to be small differences, but in the box rested what appeared to be a vegan chocolate cupcake with raspberry frosting and a full raspberry on top. Santana had always teased her for liking the berry so much, but she never really had the energy to care, because raspberries were delicious, and that's all that mattered. She was shameless in her love for the fruit.
It looked delicious, just like the one she'd gotten before, years ago on a rare, poorly organized drunken escapade. She and Santana had gone out after Rachel had finished a large dance assignment, and they had gotten entirely too drunk, ending up trying to stumble home instead of taking a cab. The both of them had happened on a cupcake shop that had been closing up for the night, and after Santana bribed the owner with a half a mickey of Jack Daniels, they were allowed in to buy some leftovers. Santana had bought Rachel the most excitingly delicious looking cupcake the diva had ever laid eyes on, and a half dozen peanut butter cookies for herself. Even in their drunken stupor, it was clear how life-changing the cupcake was, and it was possibly the greatest disappointment that neither had managed to track down the shop since. It was as if it had been a mirage.
So Rachel was truly surprised when she sat there, staring at a replica of the cupcake that had sort of, in a small, embarrassing way, changed her life. When she finally willed her eyes away from the glorious treat, she found Santana with an entirely smug expression that she totally deserved, not having even touched her own food. "Is that proof enough that I wasn't uncomfortable, that we're okay?" the taller woman asked softly, still giving a victorious smile.
Rachel just smiled a watery smile, not so covertly lifting a free hand to wipe away her tears. She wasn't sure if they were leftover sad ones, or newfound happy ones, but it was nice to get them out anyway. She honestly wasn't exactly sure why she was feeling as emotional as she was, as overwhelmed as she was; her guess was that no one had shown they cared for her so easily in such a long time. It was something she'd dearly missed about Santana.
Sure, the other woman was abrasive at times, and certainly unpredictable, which often clashed with her schedules, lists, and general sense of structure and order. Yet, Santana always came through when she needed her. The taller girl always seemed to have a sixth sense, or a psychic Mexican third eye, for predicting moods or situations, and would often have solutions at the ready and on the fly. No matter what, Santana always found a way to make her feel better, whether it was done on purpose, guesswork, or accidentally. For instance, she'd bombed an audition early sophomore year, and she'd spent the entire subway ride home craving a bowl of soup and a 'Facts of Life' marathon. So when she'd entered their apartment and found Santana slaving over a pot of homemade vegan soup, and the living room all set up in prime movie-watching condition, it was all she could do to keep from tackling the girl in a hug. Or when she'd have a hard day in Cassie July's class, and Santana would answer the door with massage oil in hand, sympathy written across her face. It was always something new, because as predictable as Rachel liked her life to be, her needs were often random. Both Kurt and Santana had teased her that she'd make for a hellish pregnant woman; pregnancy just didn't seem like a promising stretch of life, if that aspect of her personality was only enhanced.
Santana had always kept Rachel on her toes, and she could never really know what to expect when she got home most days, but it was very rarely anything but what she needed at the time. It also helped that most times, she'd spend her subway rides wondering what Santana would have planned or prepared for when she got home, indirectly easing her school-related nerves, fears and worries.
"It…it's wonderful. Thank you." She choked out, placing the cupcake back in its box before taking another bite of her sandwich, her body melting from the sweet taste of her food, or perhaps the sweet lady across from her.
Santana was kind of elated that her impromptu decision to get fancy with breakfast paid off in spades. It had taken a little weaseling, a little extra time, and some extra money from the previous day's earnings, but she'd accomplished a magnificent breakfast to help continue her amazing morning. It was only when she'd approached their little camping spot that she realized something was amiss.
Honestly, she hadn't expected Rachel to be upset that she'd left, either from the bed or to get breakfast, but it was absolutely clear by the expression on her friend's face that she was sad and lonely, meaning that she missed Santana. She was just thankful that she'd defused the situation with the diva. Sure, Santana understood the woman's worries; she ran away from her problems every single time. Hell, she ran away from her friends at the first sigh of strain. Santana always held herself at fault for her and Quinn's fights; she'd always see the blonde pulling away slightly, and she'd force her away fully until the blonde proved that, once again, she wasn't about to give up on her. It was toxic, SHE was toxic, and she ended up hurting Quinn, so she'd been happy to disappear to Kentucky. And then that wasn't a big enough distance between her and Britt, and the long distance relationship wasn't working for either of them, so Bushwick it was.
But even that soured. Or, well, it didn't so much sour, as Kurt decided he was going to leave, which gave her an excuse to be distant to Rachel and enact a split. Santana wished that she hadn't given up so easily, but she'd felt validated when neither of her former roommates hunted her down. In her own way, she knew it was all about needing someone to make an effort for her, but in the past she'd never been ready to accept those efforts. She'd been too suspicious, too hurt, too hopeful. Now, as a fairly jaded twenty-something, she'd had a lot of time to think, and she knew her chances at redemption were few and far between. Santana still wasn't sure if she was ready, but it was as ready as she'd ever be. She just needed to know that Rachel would try, which was why she'd made the breakfast gesture in the first place. It wasn't really 'baiting' per se, it was just a way of figuring out if Rachel actually wanted to stay her friend in the future, or if she'd go away. If Rachel was the same girl she'd gotten attached at the hip with during their time at the Bushwick apartment, or if she had put all of that behind her. She just wanted to be wanted for once. Santana had never really been able to completely shake the feeling that it was improbable, but the closest she'd come was with Rachel, and that had freaked her out. It made her vulnerable, so she'd run away.
And sure, Santana had imposed herself on their lives and took up room in their home; while they seemed to enjoy her presence, she had known it was only a matter of time until they'd sour toward her in some way. Everything always had with her, in some way, so it wasn't like it was a bad call, just letting go like that, running away. Santana knew she'd always get emotionally invested, and she'd always need to leave before it could get bad enough to leave her with the kind of memories that she'd hate herself for.
But sitting there across from the diva who was happily enjoying her cupcake, flashing her a brilliant smile, Santana really wished she hadn't run. That she'd just thought harder, waited longer, because it was so clear that Rachel missed her. She didn't have to run. It was her first mistake.
And while that was kind of mind-blowing in its own pathetic little way, it was also a first. And Santana wasn't sure how to handle that potential reality.
What she did know how to do was handle Rachel. The cupcake had made Rachel smile the same smile the diva made after winning regions with her original song. Santana liked that smile, and felt pride over causing it. And it was kind of really easy, because even after six years apart, she still knew Rachel. At least, enough to get her mind to a happier place. She couldn't help but think that they could have stayed as friends. That they could have met up each week and hung out, or whatever. Sure, Rachel was a bit of a head case and overbearing, but it wouldn't have been hard, because she knew Rachel's crazy. She accepted it. She even liked it sometimes. Maybe most of the time, even. How could I not have been able to handle all that? Rachel's like, the most forgiving person in the world…it'd be hard to mess up with her, right? And she's not stupid…she gets me, so she'd stop me from hurting her like she used to. We could have had a friendship. She…we could have been friends for years! Right? She would have been able to keep her focus if I wasn't around all the time, right? She mused to herself, finishing off her own breakfast pita. I've already lost, like, everything but my guitar and my hellhole of an apartment…my cousin's the only person willing to talk to me anymore, and after yesterday morning, that could have changed, or it might not last long. Isn't it worth trying to hold on? Isn't that what's been flashing in front of my face in bright, neon letters since I saw Rachel yesterday?
Santana masked a sigh as reality sifted back into her thoughts. But fuck, it's just hard. When we get back to New York, she might want to go her own way. And that would really hurt if I work myself into being, like, open with her and everything. I mean, it's expected that I'll get stomped on, or that I'll end up stomping on her, but…beh. It's Christmas Eve. May as well make the most of the day, instead of just sulking and shit.
She quickly went about finishing her meal, sending the diva a smile as she returned from throwing out their trash, and recycling their recyclables. Rachel sat on a pillow, scrolling through her phone, looking perfectly content. Like they weren't stuck in an airport in Canada, on Christmas Eve, camping in a low-traffic hallway. "Do you want to do any music today?" she asked cautiously, unsure if her friend was up to the task, or if she just wanted to relax.
Rachel's answer quickly was visible on her face, long before her words confirmed it. The girl was excited, quickly tossing her phone away and into her luggage. "I'd love to." The diva stated exuberantly, before pausing and giving Santana a firm, pointed look. "But only if we warm up properly this time. I won't have you damaging your vocal chords, Santana."
Santana rolled her eyes, but her growing smile betrayed her. She was excited too. Maybe just for the music, maybe for spending more time with Rachel, maybe for having another appreciative audience. But maybe, most of all, for maybe having a better day than the previous one, which was borderline unbelievable at that point.
But with Rachel Berry at her side, she wasn't sure that anything was impossible.
A/N: Well, one chapter left to go after this! Hard to believe I'll have another moderate/big project done. I know a lot of you have wanted a Province sequel earlier, but I really felt compelled to put a lot of my efforts into this first, so I hope this has been a fun ride too.
This chapter was a bit small, but the next one will probably be beefy, so it'll kind of make up for it, I suppose.
Anywho, thanks so much for all of your support, you all are incredible :D I hope that your weeks end on a high note!