A/N: Wow, totally blown away by the response to this story! You guys are super awesome :)

We know how much I love my angst, so don't expect much fluff in this story…

Also, any ideas for cover art, PM me ;)

Onward and up!

-H

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee :(

2013

Brittany couldn't find her. She'd disappeared. She'd been so close! She looked down at the card in her hand and shivered, but she was pretty sure it wasn't because she'd simply run outside without any coat.

"Britt, is everything ok?" Chelsea asked, gently putting a hand on her arm. "You kinda just bolted."

Brittany took a deep breath and nodded, meeting her girlfriend's gaze. "Yeah, I'm good. Just…I just thought that I saw someone I knew."

"Ok," Chelsea replied with a smile. "How about we go back to the party?"

"Sure." She tried to sound enthusiastic, but she'd lost all interest in partying after Santana's abrupt departure.

Would she have kissed her? Or would she have chickened out? Did she run because she saw her with Chelsea?

Ugh. She hated the unanswered questions flying around in her head. The main one was very simple for her: Would she have kissed Santana back?

Brittany got swept up in work as the new year brought bigger accounts to their growing firm. Her boss called her into his office one afternoon in late January.

"Brittany, have a seat."

She sat, her hands clammy with nerves. She was stressing about her last campaign. She hadn't been one hundred percent confident about the angle she took and she was pretty sure she was about to be called on it.

"Congratulations!" her boss said with a smile.

"Huh?" She blinked.

"The Mayweather account. You landed us a five-year contract with them! They loved the work you did on their last campaign and they want you to exclusively run their account."

"Huh?"

No fucking way.

Her boss chuckled. "You did good, Brittany. You'll be moving off the general floor and into your own office tomorrow."

"I like the floor." She sounded ungrateful.

Her boss laughed again. "You'll still be working with the people on the floor, but you'll have your own office."

"Ok."

Say thank you, idiot!

"Um, thank you very much for this opportunity. Um, I definitely won't let you down."

"Excellent."

They shook hands and Brittany walked out, feeling like someone was going to jump out behind an outrageously big plant and laugh at her, congratulating themselves on a prank well played. But all the way back to her cubicle, no one jumped out.

Quinn was ecstatic and demanded that they celebrate. They went out to a swanky restaurant and ran into some of Quinn's friends who wanted to go clubbing. Brittany wasn't madly keen. Dancing had been her and Santana's thing, one of the few times where she was allowed to be pressed up against her in public and move her hands over her glorious body without the Latina freaking out, although she had on many occasions.

"Britt, come on," Quinn urged. "Call up Chelsea. I'm sure she'd love to join us."

"Oh, right."

Chelsea. Her girlfriend. She hadn't even told her about her promotion.

"I guess I'll get on that."

She excused herself to the bathroom, shut herself in a cubicle and dialled Chelsea's number.

"Hey, babe!"

"Hi," the blonde replied, a natural smile crossing her face. Chelsea was a really good person and an amazing girlfriend. "So, I have some news."

"Yeah?"

"I got a promotion today. I'm in charge of the Mayweather account. It was their request."

"That's amazing, Britt! I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks," she replied bashfully. She didn't often get praise. "Um, Quinn and I are going out clubbing with some of her friends. Would you like to join us?"

"Oh, baby, I'd love to, but I'm swamped with stuff I need to finish for tomorrow."

Chelsea was a PA to some high up person in politics. Like the mayor or something. She felt kinda bad that she hadn't taken more of an interest in her girlfriend's career.

"Oh, ok. I get that you're busy, babe. It's fine."

"Next time, though. How about we go out for dinner tomorrow night? My treat. I wanna show the world how amazing my sexy girlfriend is."

Brittany couldn't help but giggle. "That sounds awesome. I can't wait."

"Ok, Britt. I gotta go. I'm getting the evil eye. Love you."

"I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good evening," she replied, biting her lip and hoping that Chelsea wouldn't pick up how she deliberately avoided replying in kind.

"Bye!"

Brittany sighed and hung up. She wasn't in love with Chelsea. She liked her a lot and cared for her, but she knew what love was and she just didn't feel that with her girlfriend. Well, she didn't feel it yet. Maybe like with the kissing and sex, she'd eventually fall in love with her.

She exited the stall and went to the sink, staring at her reflection. A white piece of paper caught her eye. It was placed strategically next to the sink, begging to be picked up. She glanced around, but the bathroom was empty except for her. She picked it up and almost dropped it again when she saw a familiar loopy writing, spelling out her name,

Brittany,

I'm a coward. I know I am. You're so close to me right now and I can hear your voice, but I'm too scared to wait for you to come out and speak to you face-to-face.

For that reason, I know that I'm not ready for you. You still take my breath away though. When I saw you walking through the restaurant, I thought that maybe this was my chance. But you're happy and it's not my place to upset that.

All my love,

Santana.

P.S: Congratulations on your promotion. I always knew you'd be absolutely amazing at anything you did.

"Huh?"

She'd missed her again? Surely not! She'd been in the damn bathroom the whole time?

The logical side of her brain reminded her of something: Was she ready to see Santana?

Brittany couldn't answer that.

The Mayweather account extended her working hours by a crazy amount. She'd often leave later than everyone else to go over their progress of the day and make sure they could move forward the following day. Thankfully, it was warming up and Brittany found that she could start her morning runs again. She loved running. It set her free. She did it just because she enjoyed it.

"Hey," Quinn greeted as she came in after a morning job in March. "How are you?"

"Good."

"You sure?"

Brittany's brows furrowed. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh, I dunno," Quinn said nonchalantly. "I was just worried."

"Why?"

"It's a year ago today," she said quietly.

Brittany nodded. She knew that. She'd known that since the beginning of the month and every day before that. She'd never be able to forget that day in Santana's apartment as long as she lived.

"Have you spoken to Chelsea about her?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Well, she is your girlfriend."

Brittany blinked. Was that supposed to be enough of a reason? "So?"

Quinn sighed. "Britt, you care about Chelsea, right?"

She nodded.

"Ok, do you see things in the long term for you guys?"

Brittany shrugged. "Worrying about the future gives me a headache. I'll worry about it when I get there."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Do you love her?"

"Who?"

Quinn's eyes widened and Brittany mentally slapped herself.

"Brittany, are you still in love with Santana?"

"No," she scoffed.

Quinn arched an eyebrow.

Brittany sighed in defeat. "Yes. I don't think I know how not to be. It doesn't help that I keep getting these notes from her. Do you know that we've been in the same room twice since New Year's Eve and I never knew? How could I not fucking know? I mean…I don't know what I mean."

"I think you need to figure out what you want, Britt. It's not really fair to Chelsea to continue a relationship with her when you're still in love with someone else."

"I could still fall in love with Chelsea. I mean, it took a while for the kissing and the sex to get good so maybe I just need time."

"First, TMI. We're like sisters. Anything to do with your sex life is not up for discussion."

"I wasn't-"

"Not the point," Quinn continued. "The point here, Britt, is that you're hanging onto a relationship with Chelsea because you hope to fall in love with her. She loves you, right?"

Brittany nodded. "Well, she's told me."

"And you haven't said it back, have you?"

Brittany shook her head.

"That's good because I know you would never lie about something like that."

"I do care about her, though. Like a lot. She's funny and smart and accepts me for who I am."

"So basically everything Santana wasn't?" Quinn challenged.

"Don't do that," Brittany said, her eyes narrowing. "That's not fair."

"Britt, how do you expect to move on and find happiness if you compare every girl to Santana?"

"Because she's perfect!"

She dropped her head, sighing.

"Um, do I need to remind you that she kept your relationship hidden for five and a half years? That she was a complete bitch to everyone?"

"She wasn't to me, ok? She was wonderful to me. And…and…she's…"

"She's what?"

"She's trying, Quinn. She's seeing a psychologist and trying to accept who she is. She's…she's doing for me because she still loves me."

"Well, don't you think it's too little too late?"

Brittany lifted her gaze to meet her best friend's.

"Oh, no," Quinn sighed.

"What? What do you want from me, Quinn? I fucking love her, ok? I'm still in love with her. But I don't know if I could ever actually be with her again and that scares the shit out of me!"

She took deep breaths and felt tears running down her cheeks.

"I…" her voice choked. "I don't want to love her, but I do. And I can't do it again. I just can't."

Quinn sighed and put her arms around her best friend, holding her tightly.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do," Brittany whispered.

She knew she had to break up with Chelsea. Quinn was right; it wasn't fair to her. She just wished she had a less shitty reason than 'Sorry, I'm actually still in love with my closeted ex-girlfriend who kept our relationship a secret for five and a half years'.

April arrived before Brittany had a chance to blink and she was still Chelsea's girlfriend. It killed the blonde to pretend, but every time they were together, Chelsea was so sweet and loving that she couldn't. And the sex really was good.

But, as Quinn constantly reminded her, that wasn't a reason to stay with someone. She couldn't stay with Chelsea simply because she wasn't Santana.

But really, was being alone any better?

Summer was by far Brittany's favourite time of the year and she, Quinn and Chelsea took as much advantage of the warm temperatures as they could. Days at the beach, walks along the pier, trips to carnivals and generally just being outdoors as much as possible. It also made her think less of Santana because they had never gone out in public before. As cruel as it may be, Brittany thought that by doing things with Chelsea that Santana never did, that maybe her feelings towards her girlfriend would change.

Work became a little less chaotic and she started spending a lot of time with Chelsea.

It was a very warm Wednesday evening in July and they were walking hand in hand along the beach. The silence between them was comfortable.

"Britt, I've been thinking," Chelsea began quietly.

"I do that too," Brittany said with a grin.

Chelsea lost the battle against the smile breaking onto her face. Brittany nudged her shoulder and leaned down to kiss her cheek. "Sorry, babe. You were thinking?"

"Yeah."

Brittany frowned as a full minute passed without Chelsea saying anything more.

"Chels?"

"Are you in love with me?" she blurted.

Brittany's eyes widened. At that moment, she realised how stupid she'd been not to have an answer ready. Of course Chelsea was going to question her about not returning the 'I love you', even after a year together.

"Chelsea, I do love you," she said softly.

"But are you in love with me?" she pressed.

Brittany sighed. "I guess we've reached the point where I need to confront my demons."

"Demons?" Chelsea asked in confusion. "Britt, what exactly is going on here? Have you…have you cheated?"

"What? No! No, I would never do that to you, or to anyone."

"So what is it?"

Here we go.

"When I was in high school, I met someone. Her name was Santana."

"Oh, no," Chelsea breathed. "I should've known."

Brittany frowned. "How could you have known? I've never mentioned her before."

"I-I know," Chelsea replied, dropping Brittany's hand to wring her own. "I…I found the letters. From Santana."

"You went through my stuff?" Brittany asked, not sure whether to be hurt or worried. "Wh-why did you do that?"

"I was just looking for a pair of earrings that I thought I'd left there. And there they were. The letter, the card and the note."

"I…" Brittany didn't know what to say.

"You wrote back to her." It wasn't a question.

"Just on her birthday," the blonde mumbled.

"What did you say?"

"I…I don't…"

"You don't want to tell me." It also wasn't a question.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's my fault too. I knew something was going on with you. Ever since New Years you've been more distant. I know you think you haven't been, but I could feel it wasn't the same. Whenever we were together, it was like you were only half there. I…I'm not stupid, Brittany. I ignored the obvious signs in the hope that you'd forget about her. But when I talked to Quinn-"

"You talked to Quinn?" That made her mad. She had no right.

"Well, what else was I supposed to do?" Chelsea asked in exasperation.

"Talk to me!"

"Like you talk to me? Come on, Brittany. What do we actually know about each other? I know that your family lives in Lima and you go and visit them once a year when work's not too crazy. What do you know about my family?"

Brittany opened her mouth, but realised it was pointless. She didn't know anything about Chelsea's family. And it wasn't because she hadn't said anything – she just hadn't been listening.

"I'm sorry, Chelsea," she said sincerely. "I was completely unfair to you."

She shrugged. "I figured this was coming. Maybe I'm a masochist for waiting so long." She sighed. "For what it's worth, I did love you, Brittany. I just really hope that she can give you what you need now."

"It's not like that!" she said in exasperation. "I don't want to be with her!"

"But you're completely in love with her." Another statement.

"Yes," she said, resigned.

"Britt, that makes no sense."

"I know," she muttered. "She's not ready to be with me."

"This whole thing with you and Santana is way too complicated for me," Chelsea said, holding her hands up resignation. "As fun as it was, Britt, I really wish you the best. Whether your happiness is found with Santana or even someone else, I hope that you do find happiness."

"Thank you," she whispered. "You're an amazing person, Chelsea. I just wish I could've been that person with you. I really did try."

"Well, I think the point is that you shouldn't have to try. It should be natural." She didn't say it in a mean way, but it got Brittany's cogs turning.

They parted with an amicable hug and Brittany whipped out her phone. She needed to do an experiment. It was probably a bad idea, but she needed to know something.

Who was she kidding? This was a terrible idea. She wasn't thinking with her head, though. Maybe that's why she couldn't forget Santana. Maybe she was thinking with her heart too much.

She waited for someone to come out of the apartment building and grabbed the door before it closed. She stood outside a blue door and took a deep breath, knocking loudly.

"Are you alone?" she asked before the owner of the apartment could say anything.

A simple nod of the head was all Brittany needed. She stepped inside the apartment, closing the door behind her. She grabbed her face and pressed their lips together.

It was so much better than she remembered. So much better. Maybe because she knew it was a bad idea. It was definitely a bad idea.

But as soon as Santana's tongue touched hers, all coherent thoughts went out of her head.

She knew she was being a coward. She gathered her clothes, the early morning sun filtering through half closed curtains. She didn't look back at the bed, knowing that the sight of Santana's naked body would nullify any thoughts about leaving.

But she had to. She'd been stupid. She should never have even come here.

Stupid, stupid.

Of course she didn't have to try with Santana. They were meant to be. But meant to be what? A fling? A secret? Soul mates? Young experimentation? Together forever? As much as Brittany wanted to be with Santana – their passion-fuelled night had only reassured her of that – the Latina wasn't ready. And, as a matter of fact, she wasn't either. She'd just gotten out of a year-long relationship and what had been the first thing she'd done? Gone straight to her ex-girlfriend and had mind-blowing sex.

She sighed inaudibly and stood up carefully, making sure not to jostle the bed as she did so. She tiptoed out of the bedroom and grabbed her boots that had been discarded by the couch during round one.

She paused before opening the door, her guilt overwhelming her. She quickly grabbed a small notepad and pad on the table in the living room and scribbled a note. It wasn't what Santana deserved, but then again, maybe it was? How many times had she left Brittany's bed in similar fashion without even leaving a note?

The blonde squeezed her eyes closed, two tears simultaneously running down her cheeks. She took a deep breath and opened the door, closing it silently behind her.

"What happened?" Quinn demanded as soon as Brittany walked into their apartment.

"What?" She was tired and drained and she just wanted to curl up with her Argentine bird.

"Where the hell have you been? I know you weren't with Chelsea."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because she came over last night to pick up her stuff. Where were you?"

Brittany shrugged. She was a little mad at Quinn for telling Chelsea about Santana. She started walking towards her bedroom.

"Oh my God," Quinn gasped. "Tell me you didn't."

"Probably not."

"Dammit, Brittany, I know you didn't have those hickies on your neck when you left yesterday afternoon. And considering you and Chelsea broke up, I'm going to guess they're not from her."

"Maybe we had break up sex?"

"For fuck's sakes, Brittany, stop being so damn blasé!" Quinn shouted. "You fucking slept with Santana, didn't you?"

"Not so much sleeping."

"Fuck it, Brittany, have you lost your mind?"

"You don't get a say in who I do or don't do, ok? You're not my fucking mother, Quinn. Stop acting like it. I'm an adult. I can make my own decisions."

Quinn blanched. Brittany hadn't really snapped at her like that before.

"Brittany, I just worry that-"

"Don't worry, I already know that it was a mistake," she said miserably. "I just wish that it hadn't felt like the best mistake ever."

"Sweetie."

Brittany fell onto the couch and held her head in her hands. Quinn was next to her almost immediately, wrapping her arms around Brittany's shoulders.

"I know that I can't even imagine what you must be feeling. As fucked up as your relationship was, I knew how much you loved her."

"Love her," she croaked.

Quinn sighed. "How much you love her," she amended. "And although she tried to hide it, I knew she loved you too. If she's trying to change herself for the better, maybe you just gave her the incentive to really try."

Brittany lifted her head and wiped her eyes. "Don't try some reverse psychology shit with me, Quinn."

"I'm not," she said with a smile. "I didn't read the letters, just so you know, but Chelsea gave me the gist of what they said. You may have given her a taste of what she could have if she really accepts who she really is."

"Ugh," Brittany moaned. "Why does this shit have to be so complicated? I love you, you love me, happily ever after. Done."

Quinn laughed. "Trust me, Britt. If love was that easy, the divorce rate would be a lot less in the world."

"I'm gonna go to bed," she mumbled. "I just…I need some time by myself."

Quinn nodded. "I'll still be here when you wake up."

Brittany sighed and kissed her best friend's cheek before standing up and dragging her feet to her bedroom.

Yup, she was an idiot. A first-class idiot. Not only could she not get their amazing night out of her head, but the fact that she hadn't heard anything from Santana in a month was driving her crazy with…she didn't even know what.

She was angry, she was hurt, she was heartbroken (again), she was sad, she was worried.

But most of all, she missed her. She'd neglected to take into account the after-effects of being with Santana again. The feeling of her lips, their skin pressing against each other, moving together as one entity, those ridiculously sexy moans, the soft whispers of love in her ear when she came. She missed all of that. Yes, maybe a lot of it was physical, but for her and Santana, that was pretty much what most of their relationship had been about. Brittany couldn't remember the Latina ever taking her out on a date. They never cuddled and watched movies or anything like that.

Yet somehow she'd still found out everything about Santana Lopez. Like how she was allergic to cherries (Brittany considered that a big loss – that sexy tongue would definitely be able to tie knots in cherry stems), or how she secretly called her sister every week to catch up on life back in Lima, how she really wanted to be a writer, how badly she pressurised herself to be the daughter her parents wanted her to be, how she didn't snore, but made soft whimpers sometimes in the night. If Brittany was lucky enough to experience them, a simple touch would relax her and they'd fall back asleep. Or how Santana was secretly a huge Red Sox fan, how she had an affinity for tequila – and body shots, how her eyes would soften when Brittany scrunched her nose, how her touches immediately became softer when it was just the two of them.

Brittany sighed and rested her head on her desk. Santana was everywhere and it was starting to affect her work. Lauren had found out about her and Chelsea's break up and attributed the blonde's distracted disposition to heartache. Brittany didn't bother to tell her that she had the wrong girl. But, Lauren did save her ass many times when her spacey thoughts had almost got them in deep shit. She was very grateful to Lauren.

She spent her birthday snuggled under the covers in her bedroom, her TV playing random shows about natural disasters and monarchs and car chases. She wasn't really paying attention, though.

Quinn had come to lie with her for a bit, but when she'd realised that Brittany wasn't going to talk, she left her alone.

She'd got out of bed to pour herself a drink when a white envelope lying on the coffee table caught her eye. She put the bottle on the table quickly and grabbed it, the familiar handwriting setting her chest aflame. There was a postmark, which meant she hadn't hand delivered it this time. No present accompanied it.

She ran back into her bedroom and willed her hands to stop shaking as she gently opened the envelope.

My dearest Brittany,

Happy birthday! Twenty-four today. So much has happened in a year…

I almost didn't write this, but I knew you were expecting one, regardless of what happened last month.

About that, Brittany…wow. I don't really know how to describe that night other than wow. And I mean a good wow. I've never felt like that before and I think I can safely say that you felt it too. I guess I wasn't surprised when I felt you get up. I pretended to be asleep, but I couldn't stop you from leaving. I wanted to, but I felt like I deserved it. I deserved to feel abandoned the next morning like I'd done to you so many times.

I saw you cry before you left and I wanted to just grab you and hug you and kiss you, but I knew that you were leaving for a reason. Whether it was because you missed me or just needed to get laid or were feeling lonely or whatever, I was thankful to have had that one magical night with you. Because for me, it was magical, Brittany. The most magical night I've ever had. I've never felt closer to you even though I hadn't seen you in over a year.

Well, I suppose that's not technically true. I was at Quinn's New Year's party and I saw you and your girlfriend. She's pretty, Britt. And I'm glad you have someone who's not afraid to show off the amazing person you are. And then that night at the restaurant. God, I can't believe how much of a coward I've been.

That ends now. I love you, Brittany. I love you so fucking much that it makes me cry because I crave you. I crave your touch, your voice, your presence, your love. And I will continue to love you until you tell me to stop. I know that you're not the type of person to cheat on your girlfriend, so I'm going to hope that you were single when we made love. If not, well, like I've said before, I'll endure the hurt of seeing you with someone else, but I'll never stop loving you.

All my love,

Always,

Santana

The letter just made Brittany feel worse. Santana loved her; that she knew. She'd always known that. But Santana was offering herself to her. Did she take the plunge? Did she dare? Did she risk her heart again?

As her eyes skimmed the last few lines, she knew that she didn't really have a choice because all the things that Santana said she felt, Brittany felt them too.

She went back to Lima for Thanksgiving and for the first time in months, felt a genuinely happy smile crossing her face. Her family, her amazingly accepting family, just had to call her by her nickname and she knew that they would always be there for her, no matter what she did or said.

"Bumblebee, come and help me with the coffee?" Mrs. Pierce requested after a filling dinner.

Brittany followed her mother into the kitchen and jumped up onto the counter.

"You're not going to be much help up there," Mrs. Pierce smirked.

"Well, since you didn't call me in here to actually help you with the coffee, I figured I'd get comfortable before we start whatever heart-to-heart we're about to have."

Mrs. Pierce smiled. "Quinn called me a few weeks ago."

Brittany rolled her eyes. Her best friend really needed to stop trying to control her life.

"Britt, what's going on?"

She shrugged and looked down. "I don't even know if I can explain it, Mom. I don't even understand it completely."

"Try," Mrs. Pierce suggested.

Brittany took a deep breath and told her everything. Her mother had known that Brittany and Santana had been close, but she hadn't known the full extent of their relationship. Santana had made her swear not to tell her parents, even though the blonde had known beyond a shadow of a doubt that her parents would have supported them.

"Wow," Mrs. Pierce breathed when she was done. "Shit, Brittany. I mean, that's a pretty messed up situation."

"Tell me about it," the blonde muttered. "Yet no matter what I do or she does, I wake up every morning aching for her."

"Then, honey, why don't you talk to her?"

She sighed. "Mom, we haven't actually spoken since I broke up with her. We talk with letters. I don't why. It's kind of become our mode of communication."

"Well, I'd like to say that it sounds like something out of a Nicholas Sparks novel, but I somehow don't think you'd appreciate that."

Brittany just smiled. "If this was a romance novel, shouldn't we together by now?"

"Well, what's stopping you, honey?"

She sighed. "I don't know. I don't know if she's ready. I refuse to be with her if things are just going to go back to the way they were. As she said, she wants us the way I want us. I'm not going to settle for anything less."

"And you won't consider being with her as she navigates this path to acceptance?"

Brittany was quiet as she processed the question. "If we get back together and she hasn't completely accepted herself, knowing that she has me could cause her to settle. And I can't do that." She hurriedly wiped the rogue tears that slipped down her cheeks. "I won't do that again."

"I understand that, honey."

"Maybe Quinn was right."

"In what way?"

"Maybe that one night together made her realise that we're meant to be together and it'll make her work harder at accepting who she is."

"You said that she told you last year about her progress. Have you heard anything since then?"

"Actually, no. Shit! What if nothing's changed since then?"

"Well, I have an idea of how you could find out," Mrs. Pierce suggested.

Brittany looked over the letter she'd written the night before. Her foot was tapping on the floor uncontrollably.

"I thought you didn't like tap dancing," Quinn said with a smirk, opening the front door. "You got another letter?" Her tone was curious.

"No, this is her letter," Brittany mumbled. "From me."

"Oh."

They were silent for a bit.

"Aren't you going to post it?"

"If she reads this, I'm putting myself out there again. She could hurt me again. I don't know if I can survive that. I…I just don't know. I mean, I'm the one putting myself out there this time. I'm practically giving myself to her and she has all the power to either be with me or hurt me." She let out a sob. "Am I being stupid, Quinn?"

"You're not being stupid, Britt," she replied quietly, running her fingers over her best friend's back. "You're in love and you just want to know if the girl you love loves you back enough to be with you. It's not stupid. It's incredibly brave."

"I'm so scared, Quinn," she sobbed, turning into her best friend and letting the tears fall.

"I know you are," Quinn soothed, humming a quiet melody as Brittany slowly relaxed. "How about we go to the post box together and deliver this?" she suggested once her best friend had stopped crying.

Brittany nodded.

Her heart was hammering. Her palms were sweaty.

Jesus, this was such a bad idea!

"Ok, it's half eleven, Britt," Quinn said, squeezing her hand. "I'm gonna go to the end of the pier, ok? Come and find me later."

Brittany just nodded and stared out to the dark ocean. She rested her arms on the walls of the long pier and just lost herself in the never-ending ocean. She glanced down at her watch.

23:56.

All around her, people were already celebrating the arrival of 2014, even though it hadn't actually happened yet. She tore her eyes away from the endless number of happy couples and tried not to let the ache in her chest overwhelm her. She was pretty sure that she wouldn't show. She'd be left looking like an idiot.

She sighed and stared out at the ocean again and shrugged her shoulders to herself.

At least now I know. At least now-

"Hi."

It was soft and she almost didn't hear it, but her ears were so attuned to that voice that she'd pick it up anywhere. She stood up straight and looked to her left.

People all around them started counting down from ten as she simply locked eyes with Santana.

A/N: Will she or won't she? So clearly my angsty mood didn't last throughout this chapter slash year. But hey, life ain't all roses and rainbows.

Let me know what you think. There will probably only be two or three more chapters of this fic. Depending on what happens during that year, the length varies. But each chapter will cover a year.

-H